Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

A slash, like a crescent moon splitting over the treetops.

Beautiful and haunting and oh, so sharp. 

Genya hadn’t even seen the demon swordsman until his glistening eyeball-studded katana had already cut down through his mohawk, splitting the left side of his brain from his right.

It continued its deadly arc downward like a moonbeam piercing through dark clouds, splitting his vision, splitting his front two teeth apart, and splitting his tongue with the taste of steel as sharp as hate.

It split his jaw and vertebrae and lungs and intestines and a million tiny blood vessels spewing scarlet streams of sorrow before his left leg was separated from his right, and the two halves of Genya fell to the battle-scarred floor of Kokushibo’s lair. 

Blood splattered before him in every direction. It soaked into the diagonal and crisscrossing ridges in the stone blocks beneath him, slowly leeching warmth away from his body. His heart stopped for a moment, then spasmed in painful lurches, trying with all its feeble might to keep blood circulating through ruined veins, to keep him conscious, to keep him alive for just a moment longer. 

The left side of Genya couldn’t see the right side. It had fallen away somewhere behind him, and was likely already dead as it wasn’t the side with his heart. He hated to think of the alternative, that it was somehow still alive, the two halves of his brain working independently of each other but both able to experience this blinding, all-encompassing pain. 

God, how death would be easier. 

A rattle of a gasp escaped his fragmented lips as his remaining lung took in a great, desperate gulp. His exposed trachea acted as a vacuum against the stone, making him inhale his own blood. He couldn’t even cough against it, the reflex muscle of his throat no longer responding to the urge. 

But with the inhale also came air. Sweet, precious air. A moment of relief that dulled his pain for a moment and sharpened his vision to the figures of the Hashira fighting their fearsome opponent. The figure of his brother, darting to and fro across the battlefield with wild and erratic movements, swinging his sword with the speed of a hurricane gale. The figure of Himejima-sensei, rolling in midair as his spiked ball struck against Upper Moon One with enough force to rattle dust from the great pillars around them. The figure of Muichiro, or rather, the upper half of him, somehow still clinging onto his blade with enough force to turn it bright red inside the demon’s torso. 

They were giving it their all. Genya could too. His bullets were still inside the demon, after all, and he still had a little life left.

“Blood demon… Technique…” He wheezed.

The tree erupted from Kokushibo’s back, splitting through his skin and throwing him off balance as its roots twisted under his limbs.

It was a power Genya had cultivated himself, after a few years of eating demon flesh. Demons were only good at destroying. He wanted the opposite, something that could create life even in the darkest moments. If it was useful in taking down a demon, like in this instance, then that was all the better.

There, he thought, his vision buzzing out as his body flooded with pain again. I did it… I bought them some time… Maybe… Maybe now they can…

His eye glazed over, blocking out the rest of the fight. He didn’t even have the energy to think in this state. The pain faded away, and a light washed over his body, warm and comforting. 

There, in the distance, the sounds of little voices, familiar to him somehow even in his unresponsive state. Were these sounds… the voices of his siblings? Were these sensations on his battered body the feelings of tiny palms resting gently on his wounds? 

Yes, they were here. The spirits of those children with nothing but love in their hearts for their older brother, lighting their hands upon his head, shoulder, leg, and arm. He had a feeling they must have been with him all this time, clinging to his living spirit like moss on a river rock, grounded even through the swift current. Only now that he was close to that blurry afterlife himself could he feel their touch, like sweet flower petals on his skin. 

A strange tingling sensation washed over him. The cells of his demon body were trying to reconstitute, to reform and regrow and revitalize this shattered frame, but deep in his bones, Genya knew. He couldn’t come back from this.

And then, his master Himejima Gyomei was before him. The mountain of a man stared down with eyes unseeing, though their trademark constant watering seemed to increase as the blind man gazed down on his severed pupil. No. It wasn’t time for Genya to go just yet.

“Hime…jima… san…” Genya rasped as a tear of blood trickled from his eye, “Aniki… Tokitou… San…”

“We’re alive.” Himejima responded, his low voice steady and comforting as the solid hand he laid on Genya’s shoulder. “It’s okay.”

Gyomei’s hand should have landed with a bit more force than it did, if he was expecting Genya’s body to be whole, missing where Genya’s shoulder should have been and landing harder where it truly lay. But it didn’t. Gyomei’s hand was as gentle as it had always been to Genya. He must’ve known the state of his pupil. Smelled it through the blood and heard it in the echoes of his raking breath. For the first time in his life, Genya was grateful that the gentle giant couldn’t see, so that he couldn’t witness the true horror of Genya’s current condition. 

Genya muttered Tokitou’s name a few more times. The young pillar had lost a hand, been stabbed through the shoulder, and cleaved right in two. He needed help more than Genya did.

“Don’t… Mind me…” Genya forced his dying throat to say, “Tokitou-san… treat… him… Hu… Hurry…”

His master did not move for a moment, no doubt assessing the total damage to Genya’s form through his near-supernatural perceptive ability. It seemed as if he didn’t want to leave Genya’s side, which Genya appreciated, but now was not the time for such sentiments. The mist pillar needed help. Relief filled him for a moment as the man rose, but it turned to dread as Himejima returned to set the limp form of his white-haired brother next to him. 

Sanemi. God and Buddha above. Genya hadn’t been this close to him since the man had tried to poke his eyes out. His uniform was stained and battered, his torso riddled with self-done stitches, and a nasty wound still leaked blood from the right side of his head, above a green pinwheel marking on his scarred cheek.

Genya’s eye widened. That was a mark. A genuine demon-slaying mark, there on his brother’s face. It must be why he’d been able to face Upper One at all, but Genya knew the legends about such a crest. It was a terrible price to pay. 

An equally terrible thought crossed his half-mind as he looked at it. Was Sanemi dead already? Had he succumbed to his wounds and the mark both, and Himejima-san had lain him to rest near his dying brother, so that he could see him one more time?

Himejima himself was nowhere to be seen, though a low rumble from a few yards away told Genya he was talking to someone, probably the Mist Pillar. Good. At least he’d be alright. 

In front of him, Sanemi’s eyes cracked open, then snapped to focus. 

“ WAAAAAAAAGGHHH!! ” He screamed, his voice filling the cavernous room like a maelstrom. He lurched to his knees, scrambling over to Genya’s prone body. 

“What the fuck happened here!!” Sanemi panted, hands pressing against Genya’s head and side. “Why is your body crumbling like a demon’s?!” He screamed. “Fuck!! FUCK!! ”

He was crumbling? Like a demon? Huh. Well, that made sense, he supposed. And it explained the strange tingling sensation enveloping what was left of his body. 

“Ani… ki…” He muttered.

“Don’t worry, I’ll do something!” Sanemi screamed. “I’ll do something about this!”

Tears spilled from Genya’s eye. He’d wanted to talk with Sanemi for so long. Now, here, this was his last chance. He sucked up one last shaky breath in his collapsing lung, and began.

“Nii… chan… Sor… Sorry…”

Sanemi blinked, jaw trembling in frozen horror.

“Back… then… I… blamed  you… Sorry…” 

He couldn’t feel the back of his head anymore. He supposed it was melting away like dust on the wind, scattering his ashes through the depths of the Infinity Castle. 

“And for being… a burden…” Genya continued, “Sorry…”

“You were never a burden to me!” Sanemi screamed, bending over Genya’s head as tears leaked from his wild eyes, “Not even once!”

Oh.

That… that was news to Genya. Did Sanemi really mean it, had Genya never burdened him? That couldn’t be. He was probably only being nice because Genya was dying. Well, that was fine too. It was nice of him anyway. 

“Don’t die!! Don’t you dare die before me!!”

“Thanks…” Genya said, “for… protecting me…”

“I didn’t protect you for shit!! You moron! AGHHHH! FUUUUUUUUUUCK!!”

Sanemi’s gasps of desperate rage were heartbreaking. More and more of Genya’s flesh was sliding away into the ether. He had to say this now. 

“You were… trying… to protect… me… And I… wanted to… protect you… nii… chan…”

Sanemi’s broken face looked down on him in horror, his hand hovering slightly over the back of Genya’s disintegrating head. 

“We feel… the same… because we’re… brothers…” Genya’s vision glazed over. “You… had many… horrible memories… and I want… you to… be happy… I want you… to not die…”

Warm tears dripped on his face. His own eyes had dried as the moisture sucked out of his decaying body, so he could only assume they were Sanemi’s, looking down above him. 

“Because my nii-chan… is… the sweetest person… in the world…”

It was true. It always had been. Sure, Sanemi had a gruff exterior, but he’d loved Genya more than anything else. It was why he had forcibly distanced himself from Genya, after all, to keep him out of this dangerous work. And it was why he was crying so hard now, because he had failed. 

“ AAAGHHH! COME ON, GOD!” Sanemi screamed, wrapping himself over Genya’s body, trying to keep him whole. “PLEASE! PLEASE! DON’T TAKE MY BROTHER AWAY! PLEASE!!!”

“Thank you… nii… chan…”

His last words floated up from him like dandelion seeds on a warm breeze. The decay had taken his eyes. His ears. His mouth and nose and finally, the last of his thoughts. 

It was over. The tunnel of light opened before him again. The tiny hands pressed against his form once more, gently guiding him forward. Their touch increased in substance the closer they got, and soon enough, Genya could make out faces smiling up at him. 

You did so well, Genya. Their voices said, sweet and small and layered in praise.

Now it’s time to come home.

Home… Genya thought, a swell of relief blooming within him. If this was what waited for him at the end, it wasn’t so bad.  

A stab.

A sharp, hostile pain, flooding into the left side of his chest, right above his heart. 

What? Genya grimaced as he doubled over, What is this? I’m dead now, aren’t I? It’s supposed to be over. 

One by one, the hands slipped away as he fell back into the darkness. The faces of his departed siblings looked sad to see him go, but wore smiles anyway.

No! Genya thought, his mind racing as he reached forward, Don’t leave me! What’s happening? Come back! Let me go with you!

His heart burned. The light faded away, and he plunged into the darkness, nothing but him and the splintering pain. His mind froze as a new thought entered it.

Hell. That must be what this is. I’m going down to burn in hell forever. That must be what Shinobu tried to warn me about when I told her I was eating demons. I died as a demon, and this is my punishment.

Tears burned in his eyes, but he let it be. If this was the price of being untalented, he would pay it willingly. He had helped people. He’d saved lives as a slayer, both in the swordsmith village, and before when he was just starting out in the corps. He’d helped take down Upper Moon One, for God’s sake. He’d done his duty to humanity. 

Yes. If hell was the price of protecting others, it was worth it. 

Voices came to his ears, murky and distorted. Like the bones of shipwrecks rising from black water. His hearing twisted and flared, but as he focused, he began to make out words.

“Hold him steady.” A voice said. “The serum’s restarting his heart. Look there, see? His ear has grown back already.” 

Grown back? Genya thought, What-

His thoughts were interrupted as the pain of his severed body crashed into him again, and he screamed. 

Wait. He screamed. That shouldn’t be possible, his mouth had dissolved, his throat and vocal cords should be nothing but streaks of decaying matter on the wind by now. He focused through the blistering pain, and found that his form had weight to it again. There was his left hand, scraping against stone. There was his left knee, pooled in the warmth and wetness of his own blood. 

“ Genya! ” 

Sanemi’s voice. No question. 

“Just keep going! Keep going! You can do it!”

“Grab his other half there,” the first voice said, “before it completely decays. We’ve got to put him back together.”

“Right.” Himejima said. Heavy hands lighted on his body, putting him upright as though he weighed nothing. Another mass pressed up against him, oozing against his shattered insides. 

“You. Wind Pillar. Cut off my hand.”

“What the fuck did you just say?”

“I’m a demon, idiot. This boy is the one who eats demons, right? The one Lady Tamayo and that insect woman talked about? Cut off my hand. If he can digest it, it’ll help him heal faster.”

The sound of a blade whistling through the air cut across Genya’s hearing for an instant. Then came the solid thump of a severed limb landing nearby, and the splatter of blood on stone.

“Good. Now open his stomach and put it in.”

The unpleasant shuffling of his internal organs came next. Genya grunted in pain. 

“He’s coming back to us. Here boy, open your mouth, before my hand grows back.”

Genya did as he was told. A stream of blood fell onto his tongue. He’d tasted much more than his fair share of demon blood over the years. It was all vile as sludge, with strange and rotten textures and undernotes of mad homicidal rage. But it gave him power, let him fight the beings on equal ground. That was all that mattered to him.

This demon’s blood was different. It was still unpleasant, though more in a medicinal sense. Something about him tasted sterile, like licking a glass vial or the alcohol Shinobu used to disinfect wounds. He swallowed. A deeply unpleasant feeling twisted within his guts.

“His stomach sealed back together!” Sanemi exclaimed. “Keep going Genya! You’re doing it! Don’t give up!”

“Be careful, Shinazugawa.” Himejima cautioned. “Do not disturb his body too much as he heals.”

“Piss off.” Sanemi said, but there was no venom in it.

Flesh knit together. Bones cracked back into a rough estimation of their previous shapes. A hollow burning radiated through him as his nerves reconnected, letting him know exactly how much pain being severed in two could cause.

“Nnngh, gah…” Genya twisted where he lay. 

“That goes for you too, young Shinazugawa.” Himejima’s strong hand came to Genya’s right shoulder. “Please try and stay still.”

His right shoulder. Genya breathed out in surprise. He’d been reconnected after all. His lungs both inflated. His guts were in the painful process of sorting themselves out, but seemed to be settling down. Slowly, his face was reforming. Slowly, his sense of vision returned to him.

Sanemi was leaning over him, his hair wild and his pupils little more than dots against his crazed eyes, which leaked wet tears the moment Genya met his gaze. He screamed in relief, collapsing over Genya’s chest, careful of a vial of purple liquid dispensing through a long needle, straight into his heart. Above him, Himejima’s blind eyes turned to Genya as if he could sense his gaze. The corners of his mouth quirked upward, despite the man’s battered appearance. Genya’s heart clenched. He’d never seen the pillars so beat up.

“Nii-chan… Himejima-san…” Genya wheezed. 

Gyomei laid a broad hand against Genya’s right cheek, the red prayer beads around the man’s wrist rubbing against his newly-reformed right ear and clacking against the stone floor. 

“I am very proud of you, young one. It is time to rest now.”

He glowed at Himejima’s praise, but it clouded quickly.

“Can’t rest…” he gasped, “Muzan-”

“Will be dealt with.” That third voice spoke. “But not by you.”

Genya looked up. His head was being held by a young man with curious mint-green hair, which darkened to black at its tips. His pale blue eyes had a slight slit to their irises, and his stoic expression told him argument was useless. 

This was Yushiro, no doubt. Tanjiro had told him of his encounter with the strange, helpful demons, and he’d caught a glimpse of the lady Tamayo and Yushiro with Shinobu in the Insect Hashira’s lab. Aoi had been giving him his routine inspection in place of the doctor, but made plenty of notes for Shinobu to review later. 

“They’re working really hard in there.” Aoi had said, casting a worried gaze over to the closed door. “They haven’t taken a break all day. Whatever they’re doing, it must be really important.”

Genya hadn’t expected to see Yushiro again, let alone here of all places. But here he was, those slitted eyes monitoring the reconstitution of his skull and his own left hand slowly reforming from his wrist. 

“ KAW! ” A crow cried, flapping into the broad room along with a troop of lower-ranking demon slayers. “ Medical aid! Medical aid! Himejima and Shinazugawa have defeated Upper Moon One and need medical aid! Hurry, hurry!”

The troops poured around the pillars and the demon, supplying bandages and antiseptic and recovery elixirs. Others swarmed around Muichiro, blocking the young pillar from view. 

I hope he’s okay, Genya thought. Himejima-san helped him already, so he has to be.

“Take this one out of here.” Yushiro said to the soldiers, “Get him to safety.”

“Whoa, he’s all sliced up!” One said.

“What happened? How is he alive after that?” 

“Look, he’s still bleeding, let’s bandage him up!”

A makeshift stretcher was furnished in less than a minute. Genya was placed on top of it after two slayers bound him head-to-toe in gauze.

“Nii-chan,” he called weakly, reaching out to Sanemi. “Please… stay safe.”

“I will.” Sanemi nodded, a quirk of violent mania returning to his face. “You just focus on getting better, okay? Muzan will regret fucking with us.” 

Genya craned his reformed neck for as long as he could, eyes on his brother and his mentor as he was carted away from the battle. 

Please… he prayed as he slipped into unconsciousness, please be safe…

Chapter Text

Pain and darkness and brief moments of lucidity filled his senses. Explosions and screams sounded in the distance. A terrible ripping pain was sawing him in two, like an axe splitting down through rotting wood. Medicine rippled over his tongue in waves of bitterness and herbal fragrance. Lights and faces crowded his vision when his eyes could open. That was Aoi, probably. Then Yushiro, looking unimpressed. And then little butterfly sister with the green clips in her braids. A young girl with white hair and startling, purple-gray eyes, one of the Ubuyashiki sisters no doubt. Yushiro again, though more distressed than he’d seemed before. People and hands and hushed conversations and more medicine forced down his throat and injected into his veins.

Below it all, a deep, throbbing ache.

Genya woke with a start in a bed with white sheets and a thin, soft blanket. His core felt battered and mangled, like he’d been ripped apart and put together all out of shape. 

Ah, right… He blinked wearily, recalling that he had, in fact, been sliced in half recently. 

He was in a room in the hospital wing of the Butterfly Mansion. A lamp burned low and yellow on a table by the door, illuminating a figure in the chair next to him. Silvery-green hair shone in the soft moonlight that filtered in through the curtains.

“You’re awake.” Yushiro said.

Genya looked down. His torso had been wrapped in bandages, and slight redness leaked through in a straight line down his sternum, through his belly, and even down to his crotch. It felt like his head and face were similarly bandaged, and a tacky feeling of drying blood on his forehead and nose all but confirmed it. A small transparent pipe was plugged from Genya’s arm into Yushiro’s, siphoning red blood from the demon into his own body.

Genya took a deep, rattling breath, coughed weakly, then turned to face him.

"What happened?” He croaked, “Did we win?"

"We won. Idiot. You wouldn't be alive otherwise."

Right. That made sense. But even so, hearing that the fight was finally, finally over, made his heart swell with relief.

"Thank fucking god. I hope you guys gave Muzan hell for me.”

“Oh, we did.” A ghost of a self-satisfied smile came to Yushiro’s face. “He’ll be rotting down there forever.”

“Good.” Genya sighed, then looked over. “So why are you here? Where's Dr. Kochou?"

"Dead."

Genya’s rejoicing heart came to a halting stop.

"...What?"

"She's dead. So are the Snake, Stone, Love, and Mist pillars."

" What?! "

"And about a hundred more slayers, if you can believe it. All dead.” 

Genya couldn’t breathe, his throat closed and eyes wide in shock as a terrible despair washed over him. 

Gone. They were all gone.

“But so is Muzan.” Yushiro closed his eyes. “That is the price of victory."

Muichiro... He didn't make it after all? And Himejima-sensei... Genya blinked the tears from his eyes before settling on the question he dreaded most.

"And... My brother... The Wind Pillar... Did he..."

"He and the Water Pillar made it, somehow. Lucky bastards. He was actually here not too long ago. He wouldn’t leave your side for the first few days after he recovered enough to walk."

Relief swelled in his chest, though it was still tempered by grief. 

"Days? What happened?"

“You’ve been in a coma for about two and a half months. Back in the Infinity Castle we managed to bring you back from the brink of death and stabilize you with my demon flesh, but your condition has not improved much since then. Your body is not reacting as well to my cells as it did with other demons. You can feel it, can’t you?”

“Yes.” Genya nodded after a moment. “You’re different from other demons, aren’t you? The healing is there, but it’s not like it was with demons from Muzan’s blood.”

“Precisely. So you understand that what we did for you was a temporary solution.” Yushiro said, the slits of his eyes flicking a modicum thinner. “Your wounds closed, but they opened again as the weeks went on. A few days ago, you were almost in two pieces again. Kokushibo cut you deep, and with a breathing technique too. As a demon, that’s more or less a death sentence. Your body cannot hold itself together anymore for very long.” 

Genya swallowed, the motion sore in his split throat. 

“How long do I have?”

“Your condition regressed significantly, beginning about eight weeks after the battle. You’d been unconscious for so long that when your body started to fall apart, they figured it was just the end for you. That’s when I was called in. I’ve been stabilizing you with my blood for the past two days. Your cells are doing the real work, putting you back together, piece by piece.”

“I see.” Genya’s head swam. A sickening, sinking feeling slithered its way into his stomach. His vision throbbed.

“So, after I’m stabilized today, I’ll have another few months to live before I start to die again?”

“Essentially.” Yushiro nodded. “When that time comes, I will come to you again.”

“What are you saying? You’ll just come and feed me your blood, again and again, until I die of old age?”

“Theoretically, my cells could keep you alive forever. I am a demon, after all. You’re more like… half a demon, but still. It could work.”

“I can’t ask you to do that.” Genya shook his head, “That’s too much to ask, I can’t-”

Yushiro slid forward on his chair, his movements fluid as a gossamer-finned eel slithering through water. 

“This is your situation. Like it or not, you have two choices. Number one, I come to you every few months or so, and give you a bit of my body so you stay alive. This is a choice I make of my own volition. I know what an inconvenience it will be, and I know this arrangement could continue for much longer than a natural human lifespan. There may come a time when we exist as demons, long after the last of the slayers are dead.”

“A-and my other choice?” Genya asked.

Yushiro didn’t blink.

“Your other choice is death. I will take this tube from my arm, and leave this place. You will live for another few months, then your body will give out on itself and you will split in two again. You will be buried with the other fallen slayers, and due to the secrecy of the corps, your name will be lost to history.”

“Oh.” Genya said in a small voice. “Yes, of course. That makes sense.”

“I will not ask for your choice just yet. But know this. I will leave when the dawn comes. You will not get another chance.” 

Dawn… Genya thought, looking out the window. The moon was high, though there looked to be a few more hours of night remaining.

“How did you save me anyway?” Genya asked. “I was dead. My body was flaking away and I saw the afterlife. My family was waiting for me there. How did I come back?”

“Do you remember that drug I gave you, back in the Infinity Castle?”

Genya recalled a terrible heartburn, and waking up to see a purple vial sticking out of his chest. He nodded. 

“Lady Tamayo developed that drug to stop a demon from dying. There’s only one dose, so it can only reconstitute a demon once. It would have been disastrous if Muzan got ahold of it of course, so she sent it with me instead, as a failsafe in case I got too injured and couldn’t keep going.”

“That’s very kind of her.” Genya said. Yushiro closed his eyes, head tilted down to the floor.

“She is nothing but kind. She is the most generous and giving person that has ever lived. Anyone that says otherwise will rot in hell with Muzan and the rest of his lot.” 

Genya nodded. Yushiro seemed to admire this Tamayo woman a lot. He made a mental note to tread carefully on the subject of his adoration. Yushiro sighed and opened his eyes, staring blankly at the floor.

“I was never going to use the drug on myself though. I was saving it for Lady Tamayo, in case she needed it after her confrontation with Muzan. I don’t care if I die, if it meant I could save her.”

Yushiro looked away.

“I only helped you because it’s what Lady Tamayo would have wanted. By the time I needed to use the drug on her, I was already too late. I figured it was better to save someone’s life than to let it go to waste.”

"I see... So she's gone too..." Genya said softly. "I'm very sorry for your loss. I hear she was an amazing person."

Yushiro was silent for a long moment.

"...She was." He said eventually, still facing away from Genya. "With her gone, I have nothing left but to devote myself to her legacy. Maybe one day I'll step out into the sun and be reunited with her in my next life, but for now, it feels as though she still has work for me to do."

“Work like keeping poor near-dead demon slayers like me alive?” Genya said with a half-hearted chuckle.

Yushiro didn’t laugh.

“I’m sorry,” Genya exhaled wearily, “This is all just…  a lot.”

“Yes, I suppose it would be. But regardless, it is a truth you must face. Do not dishonor the dead with your indecision.”

Genya nodded. Outside, crickets chirped in the warm night air, and a distant wind chime tinkled in the courtyard beyond. 

“Can you tell me more about them?” Genya asked, bringing his hands close to his chest. “The dead I mean. How did it happen? How did we win?”

“That,” Yushiro sighed, “is a long story. Don’t fall asleep on me now.”

Genya shook his head. There was no way he could miss this.

Yushiro laid out what had been compiled through various accounts about everything that had happened in the Infinity Castle. Of Shinobu’s sacrifice that led to the defeat of Upper Moon Two, of Yushiro’s own struggle against Muzan through Nakime, of the castle crumbling and the demon slayers making their last stand for nearly two hours against Muzan. He told Genya about the brutal battle, the sacrifice of the Pillars, Tanjiro’s final duel against the demon king, and then his brief moment as an all-powerful demon king himself, before Kanao and Nezuko brought him back to humanity. 

“So he survived after all that, huh.” Genya said, a slight smile on his mouth. Kamado was tough, he knew, and skilled beyond belief, but still. The relief he felt upon hearing the young man had survived was only parallel to the same news of his brother. 

Maybe I’ll get to see Tanjiro again soon. Genya thought, a soft and warm feeling easing away some of the ache in his chest. Tanjiro had the uncanny ability to rain sunshine down on everyone in his presence, and Genya was no exception. He missed that warmth dearly. It would be nice to see the young man again.

“He’s a lucky little brat, that’s for sure.” Yushiro sighed. “Though he didn’t escape unscathed. Hardly anyone did.”

“I understand.” Genya nodded slowly. “In that case, I think I’m ready to make a decision.”

Yushiro leaned forward, though his blank expression betrayed no curiosity one way or the other. Outside, the first traces of pink were bleeding into the violet night sky as dawn came.

“I want to live.” Genya said, breath catching in his throat as tears pricked in his eyes. “I want to see the world we fought for. I want to be with my brother and my friends and live a happy life. Is that selfish of me?”

“That’s all anyone could ask for.” Yushiro bowed his head forward slightly. “I think that’s a noble ambition, Genya.”

Without further warning, the crunch of breaking bone and tearing flesh came as Yushiro ripped his left hand off. He took it by the wrist, holding it so that no blood spilled from the wound, before extending it in offering to Genya.

“Your body digests flesh and bones better than blood. This will restore you to full health faster. Well,” Yushiro tilted his head in scrutiny, “As full health as you can manage in your condition, anyway.”

“You’re serious? Doesn’t that hurt?”

“Of course it does. But I was serious about my offer. I will help you for as long as it takes, just as Lady Tamayo would. Besides,” The bleeding from his wrist sealed off instantly, as new nerves and the beginnings of bones stretched forth from the severed flesh. “Pain doesn’t mean much to us demons, wouldn’t you agree?”

Genya couldn’t argue with that. He’d been slashed and stabbed, hacked limb from limb and riddled with gaping holes, and literally torn in two. It hurt every damn time, but it was a bearable pain as his regeneration took the brunt of it. Losing a hand every now and then would be nothing to a full demon like Yushiro, who could just regrow his missing limbs.

He looked down at the severed hand, then brought it to his mouth. Yushiro didn’t look away as Genya’s strong teeth crunched through his bones and pierced through his flesh, didn’t even wince when the fingernails cracked open between Genya's incisors. 

Fuck, this is so awkward… Genya thought, avoiding the demon’s unblinking eye as he willed himself to eat the hand faster.

As always, demon flesh was unpleasant. But Yushiro’s was unpleasant in a different way, a more tolerable kind of unpleasantness that left Genya not wholly revolted as he usually was. The demonic transformation he underwent next was less unpleasant than usual too. In the past, it was a painful and grueling affair, of sharpening teeth and expanding bones and an uncomfortable buzzing and squishing sensation in his eyes as they adapted to perfect night vision. All those aspects of his transformation were here now, though less so, as if Yushiro’s more benevolent blood brought out a less-extreme transformation than the demons that served Muzan had. 

A puckering sensation went up and down the length of his body, through the thick scar that circled him now like a vertical ring. The wound closed completely. Genya breathed a sigh of relief as a sting of pain wore away. He hadn’t even realized he was in that much pain to begin with. He supposed he’d gotten used to it during his time unconscious.

“You are a curiosity, aren’t you?” Yushiro said, surveying him with a slight squint. “That is interesting. Now it makes sense why Lady Tamayo and the butterfly woman talked so much about you.”

He rose and dusted himself off, then plucked the blood transfering tube from his and Genya’s inner forearms. Genya blinked, confused.

“They talked about me?”

“All the time. By studying your cells, they were able to understand a lot about demon transformation and reversal. It’s how they were able to develop the drug to turn demons back into humans, and was helpful in developing the other drugs used against Muzan as well. You helped a lot more than you realized.”

“I had no idea…” Genya breathed. He supposed Shinobu had been asking him for more samples in the days before the final battle, but he’d brushed it off as just medical screenings. He hadn’t known his bits of teeth and hair and blood were that important.

“Yushiro-san, thank you for helping me with this. I don’t know how I can repay you.”

“You can repay me by living.” Yushiro said, a gentle light in his gaze. “Life is a gift that too many foolish humans squander. Don’t count yourself among them.”

Genya nodded, a broad smile on his face.

“Well, I suppose I should take my leave now. After all, you have a visitor.”

“Visitor? What-”

Genya looked over to the door, and jerked in fright. He hadn’t even heard it open. Lit by the yellow of the lamp was the only man who possibly had more scar on his body than Genya did, his shock of white hair framing his wild eyes as his frenzied gaze focused on Genya.

Sanemi Shinazugawa stepped into the room.

Chapter Text

The first thing Genya could do was flinch, as like an arrow loosed from the bowstring, the Wind Hashira shot across the room to his bedside. The second thing he could do was feel a deep and sudden shame as he remembered he was currently a demon. 

Fuck. The only thing Sanemi hated more than Genya was demons. 

Sanemi’s scarred hand rose above the blankets, his crazed, unblinking eyes shadowed behind his ivory hair not breaking away from Genya for an instant. Genya clenched his teeth, bracing himself for the strike that would inevitably come. A punch or a backfist or a chop to the throat, or maybe he’d finish what he’d tried to do back at the Wind Estate and blind Genya for good. He closed his eyes, preparing for his brother’s righteous justice.

But it never came. Instead, the hand landed lightly on his shoulder, then hovered above his chest and ribs as if unsure of what to do, as if Genya’s frame was a delicate instrument that could splinter at the slightest touch. Genya blinked in surprise, then registered the torrent of noise his brother was making as individual words. 

“You’re okay! Thank fuck you’re okay! How do you feel, does it hurt anywhere? Are you still bleeding? Do you have any idea how bad you scared me, you little shit? AUGH, I can’t believe it! You’re okay!”

Tears were forming in the corners of his wide eyes now, pooling on his lashes and beginning to streak down the sides of his face.

“What were you thinking, fighting Upper Moon One?! ”

“I-I…” Genya choked, still too bewildered to fully process that Sanemi wasn’t trying to kill him. “I’m sorry, I…”

It was coming back to him now, the conversation they’d had as Genya lay dying and dissolving on the ground. Sanemi… had cried for him. He’d begged him to stay alive. He’d told him he’d never been a burden. He didn’t hate Genya after all. Genya bit his lip, shame welling in his gut.

“I’m sorry I was weak.” 

Sanemi froze.

“What the hell are you talking about now?”

Genya took the edge of the blanket in his hands, bunching it in tight fists as he looked away from his brother’s gaze. Sanemi continued. 

“Weak? You came face to face with one of the strongest demons in the world and helped us kick his ass. You held your ground even when you were in pieces. You shot those magic bullets at him and turned him into a fucking tree, twice .” 

Sanemi poked a finger into Genya’s chest. It hurt a little, but he knew Sanemi didn’t mean for it to. 

“And even when you were dying , you regrew your fuckin’ head and you came back.”

Sanemi’s voice cracked.

“You came back. ”

Sanemi wrapped him in a tight hug. Genya grunted in pain as this hurt even more than the finger jab, but after a moment, the pressure felt nice, like Sanemi’s arms were pushing the severed halves of him back together again. He wrapped his own arms around his brother, and the two remained that way for a long moment, both pretending their eyes were dry even as their shoulders trembled with pent-up sobs.

Eventually, Sanemi pulled away. He pointed an accusatory finger to Genya’s sternum.

“I don’t ever want to hear you calling yourself weak again, do you understand?”

“But,” Genya protested, “I was hardly any help at all during that fight, and I barely made it out alive. Now, Yushiro says I only have a couple months after eating demon flesh before I start dying again.”

Sanemi turned to Yushiro, perhaps noticing him for the first time. His eyes widened in recognition and realization. The demon had been watching the brother’s reunion from a distance, silently gathering his things in his black bag as he prepared to leave. Genya had a suspicion the demon partly enjoyed the drama and was delaying his departure just to see what happened.

“It’s true.” Yushiro bowed his head to the Hashira. “But don’t worry, your brother and I already worked out our arrangement. I’ll keep him alive for as long as I can.”

Sanemi turned to him fully. Before Genya or Yushiro could react, he dropped to his knees and prostrated himself in a deep bow to the demon, forehead pressed against the wood floor.

“I can’t thank you enough. You saved the most important thing in the world to me. Name your price. Anything you want, I’ll pay it tenfold.”

Yushiro blinked in shock for a moment, before his dropped jaw twisted upward in a weary smirk.

“You humans are all so dramatic.” He laughed, gathering his bag under his arm. “I meant what I said, this is my choice just as much as it is Genya’s.” 

He paused at the threshold, then turned around to look at the Shinazugawa brothers. 

“Continuing Lady Tamayo’s legacy is all that matters to me now. Take care, Genya. Don’t go dying before I can visit you again.”

With that, Yushiro turned and left. Sanemi sat back up on his heels, looked toward the door, then back at Genya. He laughed. 

“He’s fuckin’ weird. I like him.”

Genya couldn’t help but agree. He owed Yushiro a lot. 

“So how do you feel?”

“Alright,” Genya winced. It was a lie, and Sanemi could tell, but he didn’t press it. 

“You’re a demon right now.” Sanemi said. That pit of shame inside Genya’s stomach grew deeper.

“Yushiro gave me his hand.” He mumbled, looking down as he prayed Sanemi wouldn’t fly into a rage about this. “To help me get better.”

“His hand?” Sanemi’s scarred face twisted in bemusement, but underneath, was that a smile? Genya couldn’t be sure. 

“That’s nasty. What’d it taste like?”

“Um, it tasted gross? What do you think?”

“I don’t know,” Sanemi raised his hands defensively. “I’m just trying to take an interest in my brother’s hobbies.”

“It’s not a hobby!” Genya flushed, “I don’t go out eating demons for fun!”

“Right, right, it’s a lifestyle choice, whatever.” Sanemi waved a hand in a circular motion as he rolled his eyes. 

Genya huffed in annoyed mirth, then quieted.

“...Nemi, you’re sure you’re not mad at me?”

“Why would I be mad at you?”

Genya shuffled uncomfortably in his bed. 

“Back when mom… turned… I blamed you. I said all those awful things. Then I followed you into the Demon Slayer Corps even though you told me to stay away. Then, in the Infinity Castle…”

Sanemi closed his eyes, then took a breath. 

“Can’t lie, you put me through some shit. I worried about you all the time. But listen, I meant what I said. You’ve never been a burden to me, not once. You’re here now. You’re alive.” 

Sanemi reached a hand out to Genya’s head, ruffling his mohawk. He smiled, the kindness on his face blinding even in the darkness.

“You have nothing to apologize for.”

The grip in his hair tightened. Genya winced, then practically cowered as a dangerous glint came into Sanemi’s eyes.

“So long as you never fucking scare me like that again.”

“Okay, okay!” Genya squawked as Sanemi tugged at his hair in vengeful retribution, “I promise, let go, let go!”

Genya shoved Sanemi away and covered his head with a pillow to prevent him from accessing his mohawk again. Sanemi snatched a pillow from a vacant bed, lightly thrashing his brother with it while making him promise over and over again. Tears pricked in Genya’s eyes, though not from any pain, no. He grinned ear-to-ear, and laughed even as Sanemi pummeled him with the pillow. 

Finally. He had his brother back.

_____

Aoi came in to check on him later that morning, delighted to see him up and alert. 

“You’re finally awake!” She cheered, “We’ll have to celebrate! What’s your favorite food?”

“O-oh, no,” Genya reddened, “Please, I don’t need anything special.”

“He likes watermelon.” Sanemi said casually from his reclined position in the chair next to Genya’s bed. Genya paled in an instant, turning to shoot his brother a betrayed glare. Sanemi didn’t seem to notice or care, but a slight smirk came to the corners of his mouth.

“Perfect!” Aoi smiled, clapping her hands together. “The girls will pick one up from the market later today then. In the meantime, let’s change your bandages now that you’re up. It’s awfully difficult to do when someone is unconscious.”

He turned out to not need new bandages, as his demon transformation had sealed the wound completely. He ran his hands along the smooth scar, starting at his hairline and moving all the way over his nose and down to his chin. He swallowed thickly. This wasn’t even a tenth of the total damage.

Genya was no stranger to scars. They littered his body like flowers in a graveyard, and each one told a different story. But this one… this one was different. It didn’t stop. It covered him completely, circling through his mohawk, down his back, up his chest, and everywhere in between. He could feel it pressing deep into his tissue in places, as the bone and organs below had thickened with scar and breakage too.

His body was permanently changed. 

His hand trembled above the smooth, cold skin. This was the scar that was supposed to end his story. 

And it still could be, he thought, pressing his fingers into the flesh of the scar. It was thin and much more fragile than his other scars, like it was only just barely holding the skin together instead of sealing the wound completely. He got the feeling that if he pressed into it too hard, the tissue would bruise and tear.

Yushiro was right. This body wouldn’t last forever. 

Still, Genya wasn’t completely hopeless, and Yushiro’s demon flesh had helped him feel a lot better. He managed to get out of bed and take a few shaky steps around the house, and that evening he, Sanemi, and the butterfly sisters ate a delicious dinner of rice balls and baked fish out in the courtyard. Halfway through the meal the three young girls excitedly presented Genya with a plate of sliced watermelon. 

“Eat as much as you’d like, okay?” The girl with the blue hair clips said. Genya thought her name was Sumi, just like his own little sister, but he wasn’t sure. 

“Naho carried it back all by herself, just for you!” The one with the red hair clips said, nodding to the girl with green clips in her braids. 

Naho smiled and closed her eyes, putting her hands on her hips proudly. Genya smiled. It reminded him of the way his own brothers and sisters would brag to him and Sanemi after doing something difficult. 

“Wow, really?” Genya said, “Thank you very much, Naho. You must be very strong.”

“It was easy.” Naho waved in a way that told Genya she was living for the praise, “Just wait. Me and Sumi and Kiyo are all going to get really strong one day, so that we can carry on the tradition of all the slayers that came before us.”

“You’re going to train them as slayers?” Sanemi tilted his head, looking to Aoi. “Why? The demons are all destroyed.”

“Right,” Aoi shook her head, “But Kanao and I were talking. We want to keep the legacy of our sisters alive. Their sword skills were just as much a part of that as their medical research, weren't they? There aren’t any more demons, but it seems a shame to let the art die out. Besides, it’s not like demons were the only danger in the world. I’d like them to be able to protect themselves.”

“Hmmm…” Sanemi nodded slowly. “You have a point. You know, I’ve never had a Tsuguko. Let me know if any of them ever want to give wind breathing a try.”

“Really?” Aoi blinked, her blue eyes wide in surprise. “Thank you, Shinazugawa-san. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Genya took a bite out of the melon. It was sweet and cold and burst in his mouth as he crushed the red fruit between his teeth. He looked at the three little butterfly sisters talking and laughing amongst themselves, at the spark of enthusiasm in Aoi’s eye as Sanemi approved of her plan, and at the sun setting behind the treetops, casting long golden shadows over the mansion. 

He smiled. It was perfect. 

The next few days at the Butterfly Mansion passed in relative ease. Genya spent a lovely morning practically melting in a nice hot bath, then spent some grueling hours stretching out his stiff limbs under Aoi’s recuperation guidance. He ate with the others out in the courtyard every day, watching birds and clouds in the sky and listening to tales of the many wounded soldiers who had passed through these gates. 

He and Sanemi walked to the Demon Slayer Corps graveyard, a short distance from the Butterfly Mansion, convenient for transporting the remains of those slayers who could not be saved at the corps hospital. 

“I’m telling you, it wouldn’t be a problem at all.” Sanemi was saying, a brown bag slung over his shoulder as they strolled amongst the gravestones of their fallen comrades. “The wind estate has more than enough room for the both of us.”

“I know, and I appreciate it,” Genya said, briefly laying a gentle hand on the smooth gray headstones one after another as they passed by, before coming to a slow stop in between two graves, under the shade of a tall tree. Sanemi turned, looking at him in confusion.

“But it’s not that. All your life, you took care of me. I want you to know that I’ll be okay on my own. I want you to know that you’ve done a good job, and you don’t have to take care of me anymore.”

Sanemi blinked, but didn’t say anything.

“I know what my new condition means.” Genya went on, his voice low and his eyes shadowed by his brow. “I’m in a constant state of dying. I’ll be in pain a lot, and have all kinds of problems until Yushiro can help me out again. If I lived with somebody, they’d want to take care of me all the time. Even now, walking to the graveyard, you slowed down for me because I couldn’t keep up, didn’t you?”

Sanemi remained silent. Genya grit his teeth. He was right. 

“You had to grow up so fast. You took on so much responsibility at such a young age. I don’t want you to spend the rest of your life worrying over me. I want you to live and be happy.”

Genya was looking down at the ground now, his shoulders trembling as tears threatened to spill from his eyes. He must look pathetic, he knew, a dying man stubbornly refusing help, but he couldn’t help it. Sanemi had told him he wasn’t a burden, but that couldn’t possibly be true, especially now in his current dilapidated state. It was probably just one of those things brothers said to their siblings out of duty, to put them at ease. 

He looked up as Sanemi’s hand landed on his shoulder. His level voice sounded light and easy, but carried an undercurrent of something more serious.

“I can respect you wanting to strike out on your own. But only if it's for that reason. I know exactly what living with you would mean, and I want you to know that I’m more than happy to live that life, so long as you’re in it.”

Genya’s lip curled in on itself as he avoided eye contact, his heart beating in nervous spurts. 

“But if that’s not what you want, I can’t force you. Just promise you’ll write, and come visit your old brother from time to time.”

“Alright.” Genya’s face broke in a relieved smile. “Thank you, nii-chan.”

“Of course.” Sanemi smiled softly. “Remember, wherever you go, whatever you do, you can always come to me for help if you need it. I’ll always be here.”

Right, Genya thought, looking down at the graves. Always…

Neither of them had acknowledged Sanemi’s mark. It hung in the air between them like a dagger, both of them knowing exactly what it meant and refusing to speak of it. 

Sanemi was twenty-one this year. That meant he had at most four years left in him, before the curse of the mark claimed him, and he would be laid to rest among his fellow slayers in this very cemetery. 

It seemed both of them agreed, it was a conversation for another time.

“So,” Genya said after a moment, “We’re almost to her grave, right?”

“Yes.” Sanemi said, snapping back to attention. “It’s right around the corner.” 

They followed the path until it split at a crossroads through the graves. Sanemi turned left and Genya followed, until they stopped in front of a beautiful gray stone marked with the words KOCHOU KANAE in perfect elegant characters. Below, a polished steel plaque had been mounted into the stone, reading KOCHOU SHINOBU in the same script. 

A rush of warm awe rolled over Genya’s frame. He was standing before the graves of the Flower and Insect Hashira. 

“We couldn’t recover Shinobu’s body,” Sanemi said, “since that bastard Upper Two absorbed her. It was all part of her plan of course, and it was a damn good revenge, I’ll give her that, but still. She shouldn’t have had to do something so extreme.”

Genya struggled to imagine the doctor, her little body and kind eyes going toe-to-toe in full rage against one of the strongest demons to ever exist, but the proof was undeniable. She had pulled it off, and was forever lost to the demon realm for it. 

“We put up a plaque there, so she could stand in memoriam with her sister. I think Shinobu and Kanae would have both wanted it this way.”

Sanemi knelt before the grave, then withdrew a pink lily from his bag. He placed it on the flat stone in front of the monument to the sisters, and pressed his hands together in prayer. Genya knelt with him, his own hands pressed together just as Himejima had always done. 

Namu amida butsu, he thought in rhythm, praying the souls of the departed Hashira could hear his gratitude for all their sacrifice. 

“I loved her, you know.” Sanemi said after a moment, still kneeling with his back to Genya. His voice was hollow and gray. 

“Kanae, I mean.” Sanemi continued. “She was smart and beautiful and one of the strongest warriors I’ve ever fought with. But beyond that, she was just… vibrant. No matter what, she could make anyone smile. We went to a lot of terrible places and saw some really fucked up things, but the remaining victims of the demons would always smile whenever Kanae appeared. It was the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen. I wish you could have met her.”

“I’ve never heard a bad word against her.” Genya said, “She sounds like a really good person. I wish I could have met her as well.”

“Shinobu has my eternal gratitude for taking out the demon that took Kanae from us.” Sanemi's voice quivered with rage, but it softened out again. “I was going to tell her I loved her. If she accepted, I was going to ask her to marry me in a few years. I hoped we could slay Muzan together, then retire from the corps and spend the rest of our lives together. I think she liked me too. But before I could confess, she was killed.”

Sanemi looked at Genya over his shoulder. There were tears in his eyes. 

“Find someone worth loving, Genya. Find someone you can spend the rest of your life with.”

Genya hadn’t had much time for a love life. Besides, girls made him nervous, and he didn’t think anyone would want a man as scarred and broken as he was. He bit his cheek. To be loved would be nice, an answer to that peace he’d longed for ever since that night his family had been ripped away from him. But as things stood, he didn’t know if that prayer would be answered in this lifetime. 

“I’ll try.” He said, mostly to put Sanemi at ease. “But… Nemi… you should too.”

“Me?” Sanemi blinked.

“I know you loved Kanae, but I think she would want you to find happiness with someone while you’re alive.”

“...I can’t.” Sanemi said after a moment. “I’ve seen some crazy shit, Genya. I’m not a normal person after all that. I think the only person who could accept me is someone who’s been through the same things as I have, like Kanae. Nobody else is left.”

Genya nodded. That much made sense, he felt similarly. But there was also a contradiction in what his brother said. 

“What about Tomioka-san?”

“What.”

“Yushiro told me he survived too, right? He's a Hashira too. I’m sure he’d understand you better than most people could.”

Neither spoke for a moment. A breeze swept through the graveyard, rustling through the low-hanging branches and stirring dust over fresh graves, rushing in rhythm with the murmuring stream.

“Are you saying I should fuck Tomioka?”

Sanemi’s eyes had turned to angry slits. Genya reddened.

“No!” He put his hands up before Sanemi could strangle him. “I just mean you should be friends! I’m sure you have a lot in common, I think you could get along now that it's all over!”

“Hmm…” Sanemi lowered his fist. “You… Might have a point. Though I doubt he’s any lonelier than he was before everyone died, the loser didn’t have any friends to begin with.”

Genya’s eyes widened a bit at the disrespect to a Hashira, but he supposed Sanemi was allowed to say such things as a member of the same rank. 

“You should get in touch with him.” Genya said, “I’m sure he’d love to see you.”

“Ugh,” Sanemi wrinkled his nose, “He would, wouldn’t he? Whatever. I’ll think about it.”

The Shinazugawa brothers rose, and continued on their way. They paid their respects at the grave of Kyojuro Rengoku, where two sticks of lit incense wafted a sweetly spiced perfume into the air. They moved to the joint grave of Mitsuri and Obanai, buried together as they were found embracing in their last moments. Next they stopped at a monument to Muichiro, the youngest pillar’s name carved among a motif of swirling clouds on a thin stone block. 

“I thought he survived.” Genya said softly. “Back in the castle. I thought he’d be okay. I couldn’t believe it when I heard he’d died.”

His breath caught in his throat. He’d heard the Mist Hashira hadn’t survived, but here, now, in front of the monument to his life, it became real. 

Muichiro was gone. 

“He got sliced in half.” Sanemi said, “And he didn’t have any freaky demon powers to save him.”

“I know, but…” Genya blinked back tears, “He just always seemed so… infinite. Like nothing could stop him. I thought maybe he’d be alright somehow.” 

“He was crazy talented.” Sanemi nodded. “He had more potential than any other Hashira I’d ever met. I would have loved to see him in his prime.”

Muichiro… Genya thought, a tear breaching his efforts and trickling down his right cheek. Thank you for believing in me. Thank you for all your sacrifice. I’ll never forget you, I promise.

They finished paying their respects to the fallen pillar, then Sanemi turned to the one next to it. It was small, practically flat on the ground. Probably a monument to a lower ranking demon slayer, one of the hundreds that had been consumed by Muzan in the Infinity Castle. Genya was surprised to see it in the Hashira section of the graveyard, but perhaps they were running out of space. 

But, no, that couldn’t be it. The earth in front of the grave was disturbed, with a few small-stemmed plants creeping through the loose dirt. This person had been recently buried. The bodies of those who had died in the Infinity Castle could not be recovered. He took a closer look at the inscription on the little block of stone as Sanemi knelt before it.

HIMEJIMA GYOMEI

Genya’s heart skipped a beat. He sank to his knees next to Sanemi, trembling fingers spread in the dirt. 

“He didn’t want a big fancy marker on his grave.” Sanemi said quietly. “He said it’d just waste resources. He was a humble man to the end.”

“Master…” Genya breathed, the word catching in his throat.

“I owe him a lot. He took you in, and brought you up right when I couldn’t. He was a kind man, and the strongest warrior I’ve ever met.”

Genya nodded. Nobody could argue with that. The man had been over seven feet tall and built like a mountain, after all. 

“After the battle, when the kakushi cleaned everything up, they took his body.” Sanemi rustled around in his bag. “And they gave me these.”

He removed three objects. A battered beaded necklace, its red ceramic cracked and worn. A string of ojuzu beads, big enough to fit around a truly massive hand. And last of all, a faded yellow haori, its cuts mended with thick string and its embroidered nianfo prayer proudly displayed on its white edges. Genya’s eyes widened as a sob cracked in the back of his throat.

“I don’t know why the kakushi decided I’d be in charge of everyone’s stuff.” Sanemi grimaced. “I already gave Obanai’s snake to Kanao to help her see, and brought Mitsuri’s sword back to her family.”

He lifted the separate strings of red beads onto the yellow haori, then set the whole bundle in front of Genya. 

“I don’t know if you’re into all this buddhist stuff or not, but he was your mentor. These belong to you now.”

“I-I couldn’t.” Genya said through a choke of emotion. “These are Himejima-san’s, they should’ve been buried with him.”

“You know him, he’d just call that a waste. Really Genya, I think he’d want you to have them.”

Genya shook his head. His brother didn’t understand. These belonged to Himejima Gyomei , the strongest member of the Demon Slayer Corps. Genya, especially in his current condition, was undoubtedly the weakest. He was unfit to inherit such a treasure. 

Still, he reached out a tentative hand to touch the final worldly memento of his master. The last words the man had said to him came flooding back to his mind.

I am very proud of you, young one. It is time to rest now.

Himejima-sensei… Genya thought, his throat tightening. 

The floodgates on his eyes opened. Two streams of tears dripped down his cheeks, just like they had always traveled down the face of his mentor. Genya grasped the ojuzu beads in his right hand. They were warm, and worn smooth from many years of the man’s calloused grasp. Genya smiled in spite of himself. He wiped his eyes after a moment, then spoke. 

“Okay. I’ll take them. Thank you, Nemi. Thank you, Himejima-sensei.”

He held the ojuzu beads in a closed fist to his chest. 

“Namu amida butsu.”

The sound of broad wings flapped above them, and they both looked up at the cry of a crow, watching it land on the dirt path before them.

“ KAW! Shinazugawa Sanemi! Shinazugawa Genya! The master Ubuyashiki Kiriya invites you to the final meeting of the Demon Slayer Corps! All members are encouraged to attend! ”

“The final meeting?” Genya echoed, confused. 

“ Attend, attend! ” The crow cried, then flapped off in a flurry of black feathers.

A slip of paper tied about its leg undid itself as it went, floating down and landing in front of Sanemi, who picked it up and unrolled it. 

“It’s the time and place,” Sanemi read, “three days from now. Hmm, I don’t recognize this address. Though I suppose they can’t use the old place, since Master Kagaya blew it up. I hope Kiriya is doing alright after all that.”

Kiriya Ubuyashiki. A stir of shame welled up in Genya. He’d met the boy before, on top of Mount Fujikasane after Final Selection. He’d been an angry person then, and had attacked the white-haired sister of the new master, Kanata. He had since apologized, of course, but he still felt stabs of guilt whenever he’d been in the presence of the Ubuyashiki family. 

“We should be able to take a train to a town close by,” Sanemi frowned, scrutinizing the address, “Then walk the rest of the way. We’ll leave the day after tomorrow so we get there on time. Come on, let’s head back to the Butterfly Mansion.”

Genya nodded and rose. He took one last look at the memorials of Himejima and Muichiro, then out over the sweeping field of stone monuments. 

These were people once. Men and women and children who’d devoted their lives to fighting against Muzan’s terrible power. He could feel their ghosts around him, smiling up at him and sharing in their victory. 

There, above the Kochou sister’s monument, a pair of colorful butterflies fluttered in the light of the sun.

It’s over. Genya thought, smiling out to them. You can rest.

“Genya,” Sanemi called, “You coming?”

“Right!” Genya said, moving to follow after his brother.

Chapter Text

In the end, the Shinazugawa brothers and the Butterfly sisters all traveled to the corps meeting together. The seven of them made it to the train station with plenty of time to spare, and watched as their train chugged into the station.

“Kiyo! Sumi!” Aoi shouted as the three little ones practically sprinted on board to their seats, “Don’t forget your luggage!”

Aoi bent down to scoop up spare suitcases with a longsuffering sigh, but smiled as her sisters came running back.

“Sorry Aoi!” Kiyo said, grabbing her bag.

“Sorry!” Sumi said as she took her suitcase back, “We’re just excited!”

“That’s okay,” Aoi said as they hustled on board, “But be careful. You don’t want to lose anything.” 

Genya huffed in mirth at their antics, but after a moment felt his skin shiver. He couldn’t put a finger on it until he looked around and realized that the other people waiting at the train platform were looking at him and Sanemi both, their eyes lingering on the scars that crossed their bodies for a moment too long before looking away. 

Embarrassment twisted within him. Even before, he’d never liked people staring at the wide scar across his face. Now that his face was chopped in half vertically as well as horizontally, he was all the more hideous. He clenched his fist, looking down at the wooden slats of the train platform below his feet as his molars ground together in embarrassment. 

Sanemi’s hand lighted on his shoulder. Genya glanced up, but his brother wasn’t looking at him. Instead he was staring down the onlookers, daring them to comment. A slight smile came to Genya’s face. Sanemi had never been ashamed of his scars. Genya could try not to be either.

Kanao’s placid smile never faltered as she moved across the platform last of all, though her blind right eye made the busy station difficult. Genya was grateful to see Kaburamaru’s head peeking up through the collar of her cape, the white serpent’s red eyes keeping a watchful gaze on Kanao’s surroundings and subtly squeezing around her neck to let her know if someone was approaching and from what angle. She made her way through the crowd perfectly, and went to sit in the booth with her sisters.

Genya hadn’t been surprised Sanemi wanted to ride with all the others. The Hashira had always been gruff and borderline violent since he started in the Demon Slayer Corps, so most might expect him to prefer solitary travel, but Genya knew him better than that. These were peaceful days. Sanemi enjoyed being around all the chatter and company now, and, ever the older brother, he’d want to keep an eye on the younger girls to make sure they made it to their destination safely.

Sanemi spent the journey drinking tea with Aoi, talking about flower breathing with Kanao, and redoing one of Naho’s braids when it came undone. He seemed right at home, smiling and being companionable like he’d always been with their younger siblings.

Genya spent the journey in misery. 

He didn’t want to tell anyone. It’d just be complaining, he knew. There was no need to worry the others. It wouldn’t change how unwell he was feeling. 

The rhythmic undercurrent of rumbling and jostling as the metal wheels thundered over the iron tracks seemed to vibrate into his very core, jerking and buzzing and ripping his flesh apart. His head pounded. His stomach churned. His scar practically throbbed. 

Just five hours… Genya thought to himself, the cool glass on his forehead only offering a slight reprieve. Come on, you can do this, just five more hours…

Gyomei’s ojuzu beads dangled from Genya’s left hand, where they wrapped around his wrist like his master had worn them. He rubbed his right thumb over each one in succession, silently muttering the nembutsu and trying to meditate the pain away like Gyomei had always done.

It didn’t work very well. By the time the five hours were up and the train rolled into their destination, Genya had wished death upon himself several times. Then he’d feel guilty, remembering all the work and sacrifice that had kept him alive up to this point. Then the pain would return and the never-ending teeter-totter of torment would keep him spiraling back and forth between miseries as he flipped between one and the next.

“Come on, Mr. Genya!” Kiyo tugged on his sleeve, her red hair clips spinning as Genya’s vision swam. “We’re here, we’re here!”

Genya let Kiyo tug him to his feet. He limped out of the traincar, bracing himself on each of the seats he passed by. In front of him, Sanemi frowned. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Motion sick, I think.” Genya lied. 

“We’ve stopped, dumbass.” Sanemi laughed lightly. 

“...Right.” Genya grit his teeth. He straightened up, and made a renewed attempt to walk like a normal person. 

Sanemi was partly right, actually. Now that the train had stopped moving, the edge of his pain had faded, and only a dull ache radiated through his body. Genya took a breath and picked up his pace. He could deal with this.

His heart relaxed as they stepped out of the train and onto the solid brick platform. Yes. This was better. He sat down on a bench to rest as Aoi and Sanemi looked at a street map for directions, and the triplets bought seven bowls of udon from a cart vendor for their lunch.

“You’re in pain.” 

He looked up. He hadn’t heard Kanao approach, which wasn’t surprising, but it was still startling. Her purple eyes stared into his, her right iris a pale, cracked lavender. 

“...Yeah. I guess.” He said after a moment.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“It’s not that bad.” 

A flicker of a shadow crossed Kanao’s good eye. He’d heard the rumors about her supernatural vision. If it was anything like Tanjiro’s uncanny sense of smell, she could probably tell he was lying. 

“I can tell you’re lying.” Kanao said, as if to prove him exactly right. “Shinobu trained me up as a doctor too, you know. I’ve seen hundreds of wounded people who try to tough it out. It only makes things worse.”

Kanao didn’t look away. Genya’s jaw clenched.

“Alright, it fucking hurts, okay? You happy?” Genya snapped. Kanao didn’t react, so he pressed on. “It hurts all the time, every day. And I’ll be like this for the rest of my life. I just have to learn to live with it, so there’s no point complaining.”

“Sure there is.”

Genya blinked. 

“Huh?”

“I brought painkillers.” Kanao said, withdrawing a rattling bottle of pills from her pocket. “I would’ve given you some earlier if you had asked.”

Oh. Well. Genya hadn’t thought of that. He bit his cheek in embarrassment, looking away from her.

“Take some now.” Kanao offered, uncorking the bottle and tilting it slightly to dispense two little white pills into her hand. She handed them to Genya, who took them without complaint, or eye contact. 

“Do you need water?”

“No, I can dry swallow.” Genya popped the pills into his mouth, swallowed, then turned to her. “...Thank you.”

“It’s no problem at all. Please let me know when you need more.”

“Wait, but,” Genya faltered, a new thought coming to him. “You brought those for yourself, didn’t you? I’m sure you’re not in a great state after the final battle either. Don’t you need them?”

“You’re right,” Kanao said with a weary smile, “Very few of us emerged unharmed from that fight, and I imagine I’ll have chronic pain for many years, if not the rest of my life. But we manufacture pharmaceuticals at the Butterfly Mansion. I won’t run out any time soon.”

Not many people lingered at the station. Kaburamaru crawled up from her collar, circling around her head and settling up near her right ear, right where he had often perched on Iguro the Serpent Pillar.

“That goes for you too, Genya. I’ll be sure to send you plenty of medicine.”

“Thank you.” Genya bowed his head, “I appreciate it.”

The girls brought the food to Genya’s bench, and the seven of them ate in companionable candor. Genya even found himself back in good spirits as the medicine kicked in and the thick noodles and hearty brown broth settled in his body.

After the meal, Sanemi and Aoi led them through town and into a forest of red-leafed maple, where a simple dirt path led into the woods. The twisting black branches and fiery foliage reminded Genya of the battle between Lady Kanroji’s spiraling Love Breathing against the nest of serpentine wooden dragons the demon Zohakuten had conjured back in the Swordsmith Village.

“You’re sure there’s a whole mansion in here?” Aoi raised an eyebrow at the dense forest around them. 

“The Ubuyashiki family had to keep all their residences a secret.” Sanemi said as he led the way, his green-edged nichirin katana perched on his shoulder to slash through any hampering undergrowth. “To keep demons from finding them. The more out of the way, the better. Frankly this one is one of their less-secret bases. Hell, it’s only a few miles away from a town. It must be a big one then if they mean to accommodate the entire corps.”

Sanemi also carried both his and Genya’s belongings in his left hand, lifting the bulky cases as easily as if they were paper kites trailing behind him on strings. Genya hadn’t asked him to do that, but the man had picked up his luggage without a word. His white hair bobbed up and down in the wind as he walked.

“Mr. Genya!” Sumi cried, her little voice high in the quiet woods.

Genya’s eyelids fluttered as his senses returned to him. He was on the ground. How did that happen?

Coarse dirt rubbed his palms. The scent of wet loam and maple bark weighed heavy in his nose and mouth. Pain throbbed through his joints where he’d landed, and he was sure he'd be feeling it much worse without Kanao's painkillers. He blinked again and shook his head, trying to recall what had happened as the others stopped ahead of him.

That’s right. His left knee had buckled without warning, sending him crashing to the dirt and podzol below. Luckily he was in the rear of the pack, his slower pace preventing him from landing on any of the others.

Sanemi was at his side in an instant, their luggage and his sword forgotten as he helped Genya back to his feet. 

“What happened?” Sanemi asked, brushing dirt from Genya’s collar and checking him up and down to make sure he was alright.

“I… I fell…” Genya admitted. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I was so tired.”

“It’s okay.” Sanemi said, “We’ll rest here for a minute.”

Genya fought back tears as Sanemi rose, taking his sword in hand and scanning the surrounding trees for who knew what. 

This was humiliating. They’d been walking for what, ten minutes? It wasn’t even a difficult trail either, the day was refreshing under the red maple canopy and the path had been smooth and even. Still, pain and fatigue clawed at Genya, worming through his stomach and creeping up into his mind.

He looked up as a torrent of green slashes came from Sanemi, who was hacking away at the trees. He bent down and retrieved what he’d cut from the undergrowth, and brought it back to his brother.

It was a walking stick, the branch long and sturdy with a perfectly carved handle naturally cut from where one branch had grown the other. The outer bark was a deep greenish black, but the inner wood was pale and cut without even the smallest splinter. It looked like it would go up to just below Genya’s ribs. Sanemi had measured perfectly.

“Use that when we get moving again, it’ll help.” Sanemi said, crouching down next to him. “And don’t be afraid to ask for a rest when you need it.”

“Right…” Genya said quietly.

Genya cursed himself the entire twenty minutes they sat to wait for him to recover. He was slowing his brother down, again. He’d become a burden to everyone around him, again. This wasn’t how a man should live. This wasn’t what he wanted the rest of his life to be. 

Once Genya felt better, the party rose and continued their trek into the red forest. Genya had to admit, the walking stick did wonders for his mobility. It took his weight easily, and helped him keep his balance. If not for the fact that it made him feel like a feeble old man, he might consider using this thing every day. 

Maybe I’ll keep it for the return journey, he thought as they moved, but I’ll have to hide it from the other slayers at the meeting. 

The fact he’d been next to useless in the final battle was humiliating enough. He wouldn’t be able to look his fellow corps members in the eye if he had to hobble out with a cane. 

Soon enough, a light shone through the trees. As they got closer, a figure appeared, holding an orange lantern in front of a wide door in a wall that appeared to go on forever in both directions. It was one of the Ubuyashiki sisters, dressed in a purple kimono with a white silk sash tied in a bow around her waist. 

“Shinazugawa-sama.” She bowed to the Pillar first, then turned to the others. “Tsuyuri-san. Shinazugawa-san. Kanzaki-san. Welcome.”

Sanemi, Kanao, Genya, and Aoi returned the bow, then straightened up. Behind them, the three triplets who hadn’t yet officially joined the Corps kept their heads leaned forward in a respectful bow, but glanced between each other with a nervous excitement.

“You are the first Pillar to arrive.” She informed Sanemi, “Tomioka-Sama should arrive later this evening.”

“Tch,” Sanemi huffed at the mention of the Water Hashira. “He lives closer than we do. He should have been here by now.”

“I apologize.”

“It’s fine, Kuina.” Sanemi shook his head, “It’s not your fault he’s a lazy ass. Who else is here, anyone I’d know?”

Kuina Ubuyashiki listed off some names of higher-ranking slayers, some of whom Genya had met once or twice, but most he’d never heard of. Due to his unique abilities, he’d preferred to take missions alone. Most of the other corps members didn’t know about his tendency to turn into a demon, and he didn’t like being targeted by his allies when things got dicey. He wasn’t too focused on the names though. He was mostly relieved that this was Kuina and not Kanata, the one he’d attacked after Final Selection. He could never tell the Ubuyashiki sisters apart. 

Kuina opened the gate for them, revealing a huge rectangular courtyard with sprawling residence halls on every side. The halls connected at a tall three-story structure with vaulted roofs and gilded beams on the far end of the courtyard, directly across from the gate. Slate-gray shingles lined the wide roof, complimented by red support beams and ornate wind chimes fluttering in the low breeze. A narrow brook babbled through the estate, cutting straight across the grass and rock of the inner courtyard and under the stilts of the foundations where it ran under the mansion. 

A manicured garden was maintained around the entire edge of the courtyard, lilies and peonies and of course the Ubuyashiki family staple wisteria trees, as well as flowers Genya had never seen before. He and Himejima had kept a garden in the mountains to grow some of their food, and Genya had taken to the craft like a root takes to soil. He’d spent hours tending to the plants under the sun, and even secretly feeding the weaker sprouts with some of his demonized blood under the moon to help them grow better with his Blood Demon Art. 

They’d mostly grown food, so ornamental plants such as these were a rare treat for him to examine. He marveled at the intricate petals and sculpted stems in the Ubuyashiki garden, hardly noticing that the group had moved on without him. 

“Genya,” Sanemi called, “Our room is this way.” 

 “Right,” Genya straightened, his walking stick clacking against the wooden boards of the shaded walkway that separated the courtyard from the house as he moved to catch up with his brother, who held the door open for him.

Kuina was leading the butterfly sisters to their own quarters further down the hall. Genya caught sight of a few other slayers who stared at Sanemi the Wind Pillar in awe, before Sanemi opened a sliding door and led them inside. 

Their room wasn’t much. Two futons on the floor, a window with curtains drawn, and a door in the back right corner that led to a small washroom. A tray with two bowls of rice and a plate of steaming fish and vegetables had been laid between the futons, wafting a pleasant savory aroma through the air, but Genya wasn’t particularly hungry after the udon from earlier.

In fact, he’d never been a particularly hungry person. In his slayer days his main source of nutrients was demon flesh, which gave him regenerative qualities far beyond any rice or vegetables. Before his slayer days, their large family didn’t often have much food, so he would sleep to avoid being hungry. The meals he’d had with the butterfly sisters had been the first decent meals he’d had in a very long time. 

No. The rice and fish would taste fine, he was sure, but he’d already eaten once today. They should send his portion to someone who needed it more. 

“Eat up,” Sanemi said, setting their suitcases down at the foot of their futons. “But save me some fish. I’m going to see if I can talk with Kiriya before everyone else gets here. Anything you want to do?”

“Not really.” Genya said, sitting down on the futon. “I’m… pretty tired. Is it alright if I just rest for a while?”

“Of course.” Sanemi nodded, “Take as much time as you need.”

Sanemi slid the door shut behind him, his footsteps receding down the hall. Genya sat in silence. He looked at the rice bowl in brief debate, then decided against it and rose to use the washroom instead. He cleaned his face, cleaned his underarms and sides and puckered wounds, brushed his teeth, then used the facilities, as it were.

Outside the room, the sky darkened through the gossamer curtains as the sun set beyond the treetops. Crows cawed and flapped about, circling above the mansion in a twisting vortex of information being relayed beak-to-beak about who had arrived and who was running late. The sounds of footsteps and opening doors and muffled conversation filled the hall outside his room, no doubt more and more corps members arriving from all over the country. 

Genya rested his head on the thin pillow, and breathed evenly as he kept his eyes closed. He couldn’t sleep, not yet, but the rest was good enough for now. 

He opened his eyes as the door slid open, and Sanemi slipped into the room. 

“You’re back,” Genya sat up, “How was the meeting?”

“You didn’t eat.” Sanemi looked down at the untouched food. Genya winced.

“I’m not hungry.” Genya said.

He wasn’t sure if it was a lie or not. After all this time, he’d kind of forgotten what internal discomfort meant that he was hungry, and what stomach pain meant he was digesting demon flesh. With the addition of his new sliced-in-twain condition, he could add “chopped up intestines” to the list of gripes his abdomen might be experiencing. He was always in some degree of discomfort. It seemed unlikely that eating would change anything. 

“That doesn’t matter. I thought you knew better than to waste food.” 

Sanemi’s words cut him immediately. Of course they did, he had lived the same childhood, where food was uncertain and hunger was an old enemy. Genya pinked in shame, reaching for a rice bowl and scooping some fish and vegetables over top of it. 

“That’s better.” Sanemi sat on his futon, reaching for the other bowl. He loaded it with the rest of the steamed food, opened his chopsticks, and took a bite. He chewed approximately two times before swallowing and turning back to Genya’s question.

“The meeting was fine. I gave Kiriya some counsel on what the corps should do next, and helped him plan some aspects of the meeting tomorrow. I think you’re gonna like it.”

A secretive, excited light shown in his older brother’s eyes. Genya frowned. 

“What’s gonna happen?”

“Can’t tell you, nerd. It’s a secret. But I think you’ll be pretty happy.”

Pfft, Genya thought with a puff of lighthearted irritation, It’s probably something lame like fireworks or a parade. 

“Have you seen Tomioka-sama yet?”

“He’s still not here. Airheaded bastard. He’s probably zoning out back in his estate right now, thinking about how ugly his haori is.”

Genya snickered a little. He deeply respected the Water Hashira of course, but Sanemi’s apparent one-sided grudge against the man was just plain funny to see at this point. 

“Being this late to a corps meeting, too.” Sanemi grumbled, “The nerve.”

“Doesn’t the meeting start tomorrow, though?” Genya ventured.

“It’s a Pillar thing,” Sanemi waved, “We’re supposed to arrive early.”

Genya was pretty sure that wasn’t a rule. Or, at least, it wasn’t a rule he had ever heard. But then again, he wasn’t the Hashira out of the two Shinazugawa brothers. 

He and Sanemi spent the rest of the evening talking and laughing together, recounting the old days and telling wild stories from their respective missions. Sanemi’s smile grew as Genya told him of his confrontation with Upper Four, and Genya’s jaw dropped in awe as Sanemi told him of the scores of demons he’d slaughtered before he even became a Pillar. 

Genya didn’t eat much the rest of the night, but that appeared to be okay with his brother, who apparently just wanted to make sure he got something in him. As night shrouded the world the lanterns out in the hallway dimmed, and their room was cast in darkness. The Shinazugawa brothers laid under their futons and fell asleep. 

_____

The next morning, Genya woke as more and more footsteps and chatter came up and down the hall. Sanemi was already gone, and a tray of breakfast had replaced the one left in their room for dinner. It was sliced peaches and sweet rice balls, along with some strips of smoked fish with a honey sauce. A note lay next to the only clean dish on the tray, as it appeared Sanemi had already taken his breakfast. 

Eat it, punk. 

Yep. It was from Sanemi alright. 

Genya sighed, but took a peach slice in his mouth. It was tart and crisp and its fuzzy skin pricked against his tongue. It tasted like it had been harvested that morning. 

He chewed and swallowed, then opened his suitcase to get ready for the day. 

Besides the loose nightclothes he currently wore, the walking stick in the corner, and his toothbrush and some soap in the washroom, every single thing he owned in this world was in this suitcase. 

Number one. His gun, and several rounds of nichirin bullets. Useful to have in a crisis, but he doubted he’d need them today. 

Number two. His stout katana, worn at his hip and useful for when he ran out of nichirin bullets. Again, he didn’t think he’d need it. 

Number three. A thick wallet which contained his payments from missions over the years. He’d stockpiled quite a bit of cash since he’d never spent much on lodgings or food, and was satisfied to see his efforts literally paid off. The wallet also contained a few legal documents, identification and the registry number for his firearm, as well as a coupon to a restaurant he liked way down in Okayama prefecture. 

Number four. Two Demon Slayer Corps uniforms, measured to his size exactly, and kept in the best condition he could manage. He put one of these on, lamenting at a tear he hadn’t noticed earlier in the sleeve.

Number five. A small sewing kit, perfect for mending holes in sleeves. He spent some time on this before moving on to number six, his purple yukata, which he slipped on over his uniform. 

And now, number seven. A faded yellow haori, a necklace of large red clay beads, and a string of ojuzu beads worn smooth over many years. Gyomei’s possessions.

His hand reached out for the haori, but, no. He couldn’t do it. As much as he wanted to bring a piece of Himejima-sensei with him today, others might think it a mockery of the strongest pillar’s memory to see his clothing on the back of the battered slayer who couldn’t even use breath techniques. The same might be said for the large necklace, but the ojuzu beads were small enough to be kept in his hands and could be stashed in a pocket if necessary. 

Yes. Genya smiled. He would take the beads. 

He finished getting ready, then opened the sliding door and stepped out into the courtyard, which buzzed with excitement as the corps members assembled, old friends greeting each other and new bonds being forged between those who had never met. 

“Genya!” A voice cried, watery and frail, as if it might dissolve into tears at any moment. Genya looked up, startled. 

Across the courtyard, through crowds of black-clad slayers and Kakushi, Tanjiro Kamado stood with his arms outstretched. 

His weary, broken smile still shone as bright as the sun. 

Chapter Text

“Genya!” Tanjiro shouted again, his green and black checkered haori flapping behind him as he ran forward. “I can’t believe it!”

“Tanjiro?” Genya blinked, barely able to believe it himself before the shorter young man crashed into him, almost knocking them both off-balance. 

“I’m so happy to see you!” Tanjiro exclaimed, burying his face in Genya’s chest as he hugged him tight, “Last time I saw you, you were in a coma! They weren’t sure if you were ever gonna wake up again!”

His very presence was as pure as the sunlight he breathed, a ray of shining hope among the entire corps and a beacon of peace to the world. His wide ruby eyes looked up to Genya, though his right iris was cracked and worn to a dull pink, like Kanao’s. His left arm seemed almost dead, barely holding around Genya’s midsection, though his right arm still had plenty of power. Genya was sure it could crack his ribs if Tanjiro wanted, but he was also sure Tanjiro would never do that.

Not this time, anyway. Genya thought wryly, remembering the time the young man had broken his arm to protect Kanata Ubuyashiki after the incident at Final Selection. A deserved injury, no doubt. Now, the powerful arm around his torso brought with it a uniquely stabilizing effect to his frazzled body, like it was pressing the two halves of him back together again, just as it had felt like with Sanemi. Genya smiled, reveling in the momentary relief of his ceaseless aches. Something warm fluttered in his chest. 

Oh.

Fuck.

Genya’s eyes widened, feeling his face grow redder by the second. He’d almost forgotten the effect Tanjiro could have on him.

The first time it had happened was back in the Swordsmith Village, during the confrontation with Upper Four. Genya had been holding Tanjiro aloft by the throat, warning him to stay out of his way so he could kill the demon himself and secure his seat among the Hashira, where he could finally speak with his brother again. Despite his compromised and threatened position, Tanjiro met Genya’s energy with nothing but light and warmth, believing in his dream to become a Pillar almost more than Genya did himself. All of Genya’s anger toward him melted away then and there as a strange sensation overtook him, and the rest of the night was a bit of a blur so far as Tanjiro was concerned. 

He wasn’t able to parse out his feelings until Tanjiro was long gone, on his way by Kakushi Express all the way back to the Butterfly Mansion to recover. Genya had sat and thought all day and night until he came to the only possible conclusion. 

He might, maybe, have an ever-so-slight crush on the young man. Maybe. 

It was ridiculous, of course. They were both men, it just wasn’t done. This was just a fluke, the result of a bad concussion or maybe a strange side effect of his demonic transformation. Whatever it was, it was immoral and impossible.

Besides that, there was no way Tanjiro would ever feel the same.

Guilt and shame stabbed like icy daggers in his belly every time he thought of Tanjiro, but he couldn’t bring himself to stay away. Something about him made Genya feel warm and safe, like nothing could hurt him and no one wished him ill.

Something about Tanjiro felt like home, one Genya had rarely experienced.

“How are you feeling?” Tanjiro asked, looking from one eye to the other before settling on the scar running up and down the middle of his face. “I heard you got sliced in half!”

If it were anyone else, Genya would think he was being made fun of. He would push them away and curse them out until they never thought of coming near him again. But Tanjiro wasn't just anyone. Every word from him was sincere.

“Yeah.” Genya sighed through grit teeth, “It wasn’t fun.”

“It’s incredible that you survived that, you’re really amazing Genya!” Tanjiro gushed, beaming up at him again before a thought crossed his face and he lurched away, hands up in a gesture of surrender. 

“Your face is all red, did I make you angry? I’m sorry! I should have thought better before jumping on you like that. I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No, no, you were fine.” Genya laughed, his blush going down as Tanjiro pulled away. “How about you though, you killed Muzan! How are you feeling?”

“Haha,” Tanjiro laughed wearily, “I’ve been better. But that doesn’t matter right now. We’re here. We survived.”

Genya frowned at that. He took a closer look at the young man, examining his expression, his stance, and the way he carried each of his slouched, weary limbs. His frown deepened. There was no doubt about it, Tanjiro was in incredible pain as well.

“Let’s sit down.” Genya offered, craning his neck to look for an open place on the grass. “Is Nezuko with you?”

“Yes, and Inosuke and Zenitsu too! We’ve got a spot over there.” 

Tanjiro pointed across the courtyard to the shade of a wisteria tree, where, sure enough, his sister and friends had gathered. Kanao was there as well, speaking and laughing with Nezuko as Zenitsu screeched something about his pained feet.

Ugh, these idiots. Genya grimaced, remembering the last time he’d been in the same room as Tanjiro’s excitable friends. Zenitsu had whined his ear off about every single aspect of Pillar training, and he and Inosuke had nearly drawn blood as they traded blows. Only Tanjiro appeared capable of wrangling them.

Still, they were Tanjiro’s friends. He should try to be nice. Besides, he hadn’t met Nezuko since she’d turned back to human, maybe she’d be calm and pleasant like her brother. He followed Tanjiro back to the others, who looked up as they approached.

“Genya!” Nezuko smiled brightly, looking up at him with light dancing in her eyes. “Hello! How are you?”

Zenitsu’s head whipped up the moment Nezuko turned her attention away from him, glaring daggers at Genya. 

“Oh, you remember me?” Genya asked, ignoring Zenitsu.

“My demon memories are a bit fuzzy,” Nezuko admitted with a laugh as she knocked her knuckles against her head, “but I remember that we’re friends! We fought well together!”

Friends… Genya thought, momentarily taken aback. Was it true, just like that? He’d never really thought of Nezuko as a friend before. He wasn’t opposed to the idea, of course, he’d just never considered the possibility that she might see him in such a favorable light. Is that all it took to be friends with a Kamado sibling?

“I remember you make a pretty good demon, too.” Nezuko said, a conspiratorial gleam in her eye. Behind her, Zenitsu practically boiled.

“I can hardly believe you’re human now.” Genya said, taking a closer look at her. Her human form didn’t look too different from her demon form. Her eyes had returned to a standard human state instead of a glassy demonic slit, and her canines had become straight and regular. The air about her no longer had a supernatural quality. By all accounts, she was now just a normal girl. 

“Stop staring at her, you creep!” Zenitsu screeched.

“Creep?!” Genya exclaimed, taken aback. “You’re one to talk!”

Zenitsu gasped in indignation as Inosuke gave a string of gruff chuckles. 

“It’s alright, Zenitsu,” Tanjiro extended a hand to placate him, “He was just worried for Nezuko. He hasn’t seen her since she turned human again, you know.” 

“Hmmf.” Zenitsu crossed his arms, settling back down. “I guess that’s okay then.”

Still, he gave Genya a wide-eyed death stare, telling him to stay far away from Nezuko. Genya huffed and rolled his eyes. Nezuko wasn’t the Kamado he wanted anyway. 

No, his competition there was Kanao. 

Sweet, beautiful, intelligent Kanao, who tittered softly at something Tanjiro had said, while he looked at her like she was a perfect water lily on the surface of an untouched lake. Something twisted in Genya’s chest. He looked away. 

“Hey.” Inosuke poked his shoulder, his gruff voice only an inch from his ear. Genya jerked a bit, startled. 

“Haha, scared you.” Inosuke laughed, loud and hearty.

“What do you want?”

“Just wanted to tell you. You look all fucked up. Did you know?”

“Yeah.” Genya glared into the glassy eyes of Inosuke’s tattered-looking boar mask. “I know.”

Inosuke laughed that haggard laugh again, then turned to wrestling Nezuko’s shoe off of her like a dog tugging on a rope. Nezuko laughed back and rose to the challenge, kicking him in the forehead with her other foot and sending him sprawling back over the grass. 

They seem to get along well, Genya thought as Nezuko and Inosuke wrestled. 

Zenitsu, for his part, didn’t seem as territorial when it came to Inosuke. Instead, he just cheered for Nezuko as she pinned Inosuke down.

Genya looked up as the sound of a gong rolled over the clearing, followed by a second, then a third. Heads turned as one to look toward the head of the house, where the doors opened to reveal Kanata and Kuina, the two white-haired Ubuyashiki sisters. They strode forward and took their places on two cushions facing the slayers in the courtyard, under a gorgeous red arch crawling with wisteria vines. The petals draped around them like a picture frame and matched their dark violet kimonos perfectly.

“Excuse me,” A kakushi said, appearing next to Tanjiro’s party. “We are organizing the corps by rank for this final meeting. You six are to follow me.”

“Oh, thank you!” Tanjiro smiled, rising to follow as the others shuffled to their feet. 

Genya followed, his mouth twisting as the Kakushi led them closer and closer to the front of the lawn, where Sanemi and Giyuu Tomioka knelt before the Ubuyashiki sisters. In the line behind them were the retired Hashira, Tengen and Urokodaki and a man who had the same shock of fiery hair as the former flame pillar.  

This made sense for Tanjiro and the others, of course. They had fought Muzan head on, and deserved their place here directly behind the masters. Shame welled up within Genya. There was no way he was the same rank as the rest of them. The Kakushi was making a mistake leading him with the others, but he didn’t want to risk making a scene by refusing to follow any further. 

Genya ended up with Tanjiro on his right and Inosuke on his left, kneeling with his head facing straight forward with the others as the ranks formed in line behind them. His stomach squirmed. He belonged there, at the very back of the room where the mass of masked Kakushi stood. No, he belonged outside the gates of the manor, where an imposter like him couldn’t see or hear the events of this hallowed final meeting. 

The crowd quieted as the door opened once more, and Kiriya Ubuyashiki appeared. 

Genya’s heart clenched. The boy wore his father’s Haori.

Every head bowed low as the boy moved to kneel in between his sisters, his cushion positioned a foot or two ahead of theirs. He smiled out to the slayers, and spoke. 

“I cannot call you my children, as my father did. I am junior to almost all of you after all. Even so. I hope you know I think of each and every one of you as my brothers and sisters. Thank you all so much for coming. And of course, thank you for your continual service in the corps.”

“You all risked your lives for the longest time.” The sister on the right spoke. 

“You fought and devoted yourselves for the people of the world.” The sister on the left spoke. 

“We, the Ubuyashiki family,” Kiriya said, placing both hands on the ground in front of him as his sisters did the same, “Thank you from the bottom of our hearts.”

A chill rolled down Genya’s spine as the three siblings bowed low. Even the demon swordsman Kokushibo’s terrible power paled in comparison to this sacred humility. He took in a breath as his jaw slackened in disbelief. 

“Please, raise your heads!” A voice shouted. 

Genya looked up. It was Giyuu Tomioka, rising from his haunches in protest.

“We don’t need any of your gratitude!” 

This came from Sanemi, who rose up onto one knee as if to step forward. His voice seemed desperate, as if begging the young head of the Demon Slayer Corps to not waste his breath on something so trivial.

“The biggest reason why the demon hunters stayed together is because of the efforts of the Ubuyashiki family! You kept us together and helped us achieve victory! If anything, we should be thanking you!”

Sanemi dropped back into his bow, prostrating his face to the ground like he had done when thanking Yushiro back in the Butterfly Mansion.

“Thank you, Kiriya-sama! Kanata-sama! Kuina-sama!”

Genya felt it before he saw it, a wave of energy rolling over the corps as one by one, every slayer bowed just as low as Sanemi, thanking the three Ubuyashiki family members with everything they had. Genya wasn’t surprised to see tears rolling down Tanjiro’s face, nor was he surprised to feel the tell-tale prickle on his own eyes. On his left side, Inosuke was saying the names wrong, though his voice still shook with emotion. 

When Genya looked up again, the Ubuyashiki siblings stared out over the crowd, their eyes wide and their mouths slightly open in stunned silence.

“Kiriya-sama,” Giyuu spoke softly, though his voice carried well enough in the silence for everyone in the courtyard to hear. “You did a magnificent job. I believe all of your ancestors in the Ubuyashiki family, including your father, would be very proud of you.”

Kiriya’s face broke. Behind him, his sisters crumpled as well. 

“Thank you so much…” He said as his shoulders shook, “You have no idea what that means to me…”

He and his sisters took a moment to compose themselves, dried their eyes, and turned back out to the crowd. Next to Giyuu, Sanemi turned to the Water Pillar and smiled softly.

“My brothers and sisters,” Kiriya spoke, his voice strong again. His face betrayed no tremble of emotion, other than a slight shine in his eyes. “The war is finally over. We have won! Muzan is dead!”

A cheer met his words, hearty and full and choked with relief. Genya smiled broadly. Even now, a week out from his coma, he could still hardly believe the news. 

It was over. Kibutsuji would never hurt anyone ever again.

“As such, after today, the Demon Slayers will officially be disbanded.” Kiriya said.

“Our mission on earth is finished.” The sister on the right said. “You can go home to your families and lives and rest.”

“There will be no more missions.” The sister on the left said. “Our greatest wish as a family is for you slayers to live full, happy lives.”

A dull mutter rose from the crowd at this announcement. It made sense of course, their task was finished, but still. How could the organization that had stood for a thousand years be disbanded, just like that?

“Does this mean we’re unemployed now?” Zenitsu whispered anxiously to Tengen Uzui in the row ahead of him.

“Dunno, kid.” The former Sound Pillar shrugged with a smirk, “Looks like you’re gonna have to find honest work. I hear they’re always hiring in the entertainment district.”

“What are you saying!” Zenitsu shrieked, waving his fists as Tengen laughed, “You old pervert!”

“Even so,” Kiriya’s voice swept over the lawn, silencing the muttering and confused voices. “Before we disband, we have a few last orders of business to attend to. Many incredible feats were accomplished during our final clash with the demons, and it would be a shame for them to go unrecognized. First and foremost, Kamado Tanjiro, would you please step forward?”

A flash of surprise crossed Tanjiro’s face as his name was called. Genya huffed in mirth. Of course Tanjiro wouldn’t have expected this. The young man was too humble for his own good. 

Tanjiro rose on shaky legs, cast a bashful glance out at the hundreds of corps members behind him, then stepped around the retired and current Hashira to kneel before Kiriya. The young leader rose to meet him, a serene smile on his face. 

“In recognition of your efforts against Lower Moon Five, Lower Moon One, Upper Moons Six, Upper Moon Four, Upper Moon Three, and Muzan Kibutsuji himself, I have received recommendation from Tomioka-sama to advance you to the rank of Hashira.”

A low mutter swept through the crowd at this new development, and many gasped in awe at Tanjiro’s track record. Genya couldn’t blame them. Tanjiro had an impressive resume.

“The Corps will be disbanding, and there are no more demons to fight, but you will keep this rank for the rest of your life. Do you accept this position?”

“Yes.” Tanjiro said, his voice trembling as he wiped his eyes, “This is such an honor. Thank you, Kiriya-sama.”

“Thank you, Kamado Tanjiro.” Kiriya smiled, bowing his head. He turned out to the crowd next. “My brothers and sisters, please help me in welcoming our newest Hashira, Kamado Tanjiro, the Sun Pillar!”

A huge cheer swelled up from the audience, the loudest among them being Nezuko and Tengen, apparently trying to one-up each other in support for the young man. 

Tanjiro looked over the crowd, his eyes overflowing with emotion as a smile like the sun cresting over the ocean washed over the members of the Demon Slayer Corps. Genya’s heart clenched with pride in his chest, and he smiled broadly. If anyone deserved the rank of Hashira, it was Tanjiro. 

The young man bowed his thanks to Kiriya again, then moved back into the ranks to hug Urokodaki. The masked man whispered something quietly in Tanjiro’s ear, clapped him on the back, then let him go, gesturing for him to go sit up next to Tomioka. Tanjiro did this with an eager light in his eyes, smiling up at the Water Pillar in glee. 

The next one up for Hashira promotion was Zenitsu, recommended by Tengen Uzui. This surprised Genya a little more, as the flighty young man didn’t seem all that powerful, but apparently he had slain the newly-appointed Upper Moon Six all by himself, as well as assisting Tengen and Tanjiro in the fight in the entertainment district and confronting Muzan head on with the others. He deserved his seat as the Thunder Pillar as well. 

Next were Kanao and Inosuke, who had taken down Upper Moon Two with a sacrificial assist from Shinobu, and had served in the final surge against Muzan with nigh-unheard-of strength, among many other feats during their tenure as slayers. There was no question there. The new Flower and Beast pillars took their seats in the front row with the others. 

Next, Kiriya said something interesting. 

“Kamado Nezuko, would you please step forward?”

Nezuko blinked in surprise. In front of them, Tanjiro, Zenitsu, Kanao, and Inosuke turned back to look at her in awe. Genya did too, back in her same row. 

A new murmur rolled over the crowd. Many knew the girl who had been a demon. Everyone here had sworn to destroy every demon, and despite the late Master Kagaya’s best wishes, not everyone had accepted her. Now that she was a human again she’d been accepted with open arms, but still. Did Kiriya really intend to award a former demon?

A little blindsided but not stunned out of her wits, Nezuko rose and dusted the knees of her pink kimono, then stepped forward to kneel before Kiriya Ubuyashiki. 

“Though you are no longer a demon, you are one of the few demons who resisted Kibutsuji’s influence and swore to fight to protect humanity. There is nothing the corps could ask more of you. In recognition of your efforts against Lower Moon Five, Lower Moon One, Upper Moons Six, Upper Moon Four, and your continued dedication to the cause with your brother beyond that, I have received a recommendation from Urokodaki-sama to advance you to the rank of Hashira. Do you accept this position?” 

A murmur of assent rolled through the crowd as Kiriya listed the young woman’s accomplishments. It seemed many hadn’t realized how hard Nezuko had truly fought. Her list was almost as long as her brother’s.

Nezuko turned wide, petal-pink eyes to Urokodaki in shock. They shimmered with the beginnings of tears as the masked man nodded once. She turned back to Kiriya. 

“Yes. I accept. Thank you, Kiriya-sama”

“My brothers and sisters, please help me in welcoming our newest Hashira, Kamado Nezuko, the Blood Pillar!”

The audience cheered, the loudest among them being Zenitsu, whose near banshee-like screeching would probably make Genya deaf one of these days. 

Nezuko smiled and bowed to the crowd, then ran back to hug Urokodaki like Tanjiro had done, sobbing into his cloud-covered Haori as she gripped the back of it in tight fists. Urokodaki said something quietly to her as well and patted her back, then ushered her forward to sit next to her brother, who she tackled with the same ferocity. 

Blood Pillar, Genya grinned as he clapped, That’s a pretty sick title. Good for her.

It was then that he realized, he was the last person left in their row. Sweat pricked on the back of his neck as the eyes of the other slayers all collected on him, surely thinking he was next. That couldn’t be the case though. The Kakushi who had ushered him along with the others probably just hadn’t realized he was with them, or maybe he thought Genya would feel awkward if he wasn’t invited to sit with his friends. Whatever his reasoning, Genya cursed him, for this was by far the most awkward situation he could possibly be in now. 

“Shinazugawa Genya, would you please step forward?”

Genya’s throat twisted in on itself as his eyes bulged. His body refused to move. Apparently, there was still a more awkward situation he could possibly be in.

“ Come on, kid, ” Tengen hissed back to him under his breath, “ The master called you. Stand up. ”

Genya’s fist clenched tight around Gyomei’s ojuzu beads. He swallowed hard, repeating the nembutsu chant over and over in his mind as he slowly rose to his feet, and moved around the ranks of newly-initiated Hashira on shaky legs to kneel before Kiriya’s feet. 

“In recognition of your efforts against Upper Moon Four and Upper Moon One, I have received a recommendation from Shinazugawa-sama to advance you to the rank of Hashira.”

Genya turned his head to look back at Sanemi, who smiled proudly. This must have been the surprise he was talking about last night, not fireworks. Genya’s body trembled as he breathed heavily.

“Do you accept this position?”

“I…” Genya started, frantic eyes gazing between Kiriya, his sisters, and the ranks upon ranks of the gathered Demon Slayer Corps behind him. The ojuzu beads trembled in his hand. “I…”

“Genya?” Kiriya asked a little quieter, tilting his head. 

Genya muttered his answer, barely above a whisper as his vision buzzed.

“What?” Kiriya asked.

“I can’t!” Genya exclaimed, squeezing his eyes shut. 

A chorus of shocked voices rang out from the crowd. Through his tears Genya caught glimpses of Tanjiro’s sweet, worried face gazing at him in concern, and Sanemi’s thin eyebrows knit together in confusion. 

“I’m sorry!” Genya cried, putting his forehead to the ground before Kiriya in total submission. “I’m not worthy! I can’t accept this rank!”

The exclamations of surprise redoubled behind him. Tanjiro called out his name once, then again. It sounded like he was shuffling to rise to his feet, but Tomioka was holding him back. Genya cried into the grass, his eyes squeezed shut, but when he opened them he could glimpse Sanemi’s face there under his ribs. 

His mouth was open, as if shouting something. His eyes shone with sorrow. A hand was outstretched to his brother, but twitched in midair, frozen. 

Another hand lighted on his shoulder. Genya stiffened, then looked up. 

Kiriya was crouched before him, a sad smile on his face.

“You don’t give yourself enough credit, Genya.” 

“B-but,” Genya stammered, “I’ve always been useless. I can’t even use breaths. And now…” 

He thought of his ruined body, the pain that would follow him for the rest of his life, and dissolved into tears once more. How was he supposed to serve as a Hashira in this condition?

“I am told it is because of you that Sanemi and the others were able to defeat Upper Moon One.” Kiriya said, his comforting hand still warm on Genya’s shoulder. “I hardly think that’s useless. Along with your other accomplishments and abilities, this makes you more than worthy of becoming a Hashira in the eyes of the Corps. But there is one other reason you should have this rank.”

Genya looked up, confused.

“Did you know the demon Kokushibo was once a pillar of the Demon Slayers?”

Genya blinked, and shook his head. No. He hadn’t known that. 

“It’s true. He served with the other First Breathing swordsmen, until Muzan corrupted him. There is an old rule in our corps that states that if a swordsman is deemed unfit for their position and is defeated by another slayer, that slayer takes their rank. Muichiro, Gyomei, and Sanemi already had the rank of Hashira, so by default, you are the one who has inherited Kokushibo’s title.”

Kiriya’s hand went from Genya’s shoulder to his head, fingers resting on top of his mohawk and his thumb on the crease of the new vertical scar running down his forehead.

“Genya, you have been the Moon Hashira for longer than you know.”

Genya’s breath caught in his scarred throat. The logic was sound, but still. Could he accept this? Could his fellow slayers accept this?

“If you had checked your tattoo, you would have seen your rank earlier. I was going to tell you the truth after I’d extended the choice to become a Hashira based on your merit as a slayer, I thought it would be a funny situation we could share after you accepted. I’m sorry I didn’t see your conflicted feelings before this. I’m afraid I’ve put you on the spot, haven’t I? I sincerely apologize.”

Genya looked up at Kiriya again. Shame had pinked the young boy’s cheeks, and his eyes had taken on a defeated light. 

“No, please!” Genya sat up, waving his hands in front of him in an attempt to dissolve the negative energy. “It’s my fault, for acting so immaturely! Please accept my apology!”

Kiriya looked at him with a soft smile. Genya swallowed hard. 

“If it is what you and the others deem acceptable, then I… I accept. Thank you, Ubuyashiki-sama.”

Genya bowed low before him again. Kiriya smiled as he rose. 

“My brothers and sisters, please join me in welcoming our newest Hashira, Shinazugawa Genya, the Moon Pillar!”

The crowd positively erupted. In front of him, Tanjiro and Nezuko cheered wildly. Zenitsu cheered with less energy, though seemed happy enough. Kanao gave him a sincere smile as she politely clapped, while, next to her, Inosuke flailed like a kite in a hurricane as he screamed loudly, possibly just for the love of screaming. Tomioka smiled and gave him a simple nod.

Genya stood in shock as support washed over him from all sides. He didn’t see Sanemi until he barreled into him, wrapping him in a tight hug. 

“I’m sorry.” Sanemi said quietly as he clutched him tight, “I didn’t realize you felt that way, I thought you’d be happy. I should have told you.”

Genya blinked back tears before wrapping his own arms around his brother. 

“I am happy. Promise. I just… Wasn’t expecting this.”

“Well, what were you expecting?” Sanemi huffed with a smile, “What, did you think all your friends were just gonna up and leave you behind? Not if I have anything to say about it.”

“That's right,” Genya realized as Sanemi led him back down to the lawn, seating him in between himself and Kanao. “You recommended me for promotion. Do you really mean it? Or is this just nepotism?”

“I meant what I said.” Sanemi shook his head, “We couldn’t have won without you.”

“That concludes the Hashira promotion.” Kiriya smiled out at the audience once more. “These six individuals have gone above and beyond in the line of duty, and have earned their place among the highest ranking members of our organization.”

“But we have not forgotten about the rest of you, brothers and sisters.” The sister on the right spoke. 

“As of now, you have all been promoted to the rank of Kinoe, the highest rank below Hashira.” The sister on the left spoke. “You should be proud of your accomplishments.”

A new chorus of pleasant surprise came from the crowd as nearly in unison, cries of “show me my rank” and shouts of joy filled the air as the wisteria engraved tattoos on every slayer’s left hand showed it was the truth. 

“Show me my rank.” Genya said, flexing his left hand. A prickling sensation wormed up through his flesh, and in the next instant, the characters for Moon Hashira were proudly displayed in black ink.

“Interesting, isn’t it?” Kanao said next to him, looking at the characters for Flower Hashira on the back of her own hand. “I didn’t know if I would live to see this.”

Genya agreed. He didn’t expect this either. Besides, he’d always thought that if he became a Hashira, his title would be something like Gun Hashira or Fang Hashira, not Moon Hashira. He frowned. The inherited title was certainly pretty, but it didn’t really fit him. 

“That concludes all business of the Demon Slayer Corps.” Kiriya said, “Tomorrow, our duty is finished and our ranks will disband. But for tonight, we celebrate!”

A cheer rose from all sides as fists rose into the air. Music strung up from somewhere in the back, and before Genya could blink, the Kakushi had set up a wide buffet with beautifully composed food and drink. His stomach grumbled, in spite of his consistent insistence that he wasn’t hungry. Hmm. He could at least take that as a sign. 

He didn’t notice Tanjiro until the young man was on top of him, hanging over his shoulders and squeezing him tight. 

“Genya!” he exclaimed, “Are you okay? That was stressful! I hope you don’t think like that anymore, we all think you’re a fantastic slayer and more than worthy of your rank!”

“Right,” Genya smirked, “I’ll think about it. Get off me, will you?”

“I’m serious,” Tanjiro said, hopping off Genya’s back and circling around to face him, where he grabbed Genya’s shoulder with his good right hand and stared deep into his eyes. Genya could feel the blush coming to his cheeks already. 

“Think kinder of yourself, okay? You’ve accomplished amazing things. You deserve this. At least remember that I believe in you, even if you don’t believe in yourself yet.”

Tanjiro’s face softened, and he looked at Genya with nothing but love. That pure, Tanjiro love that he extended to everyone he’d ever met, and that killed Genya inside. 

"Congratulations Genya. You became a Hashira, just like you always wanted."

Chapter Text

The festivities wore on into the early hours of the morning. Corps members ate and drank their fill of the delicious feast and mellow spirits prepared for them, and wore away the day talking and crying and embracing one another in equal measure. 

A quiet buzzing energy had filled the air, one that Genya hadn’t felt in a long time. It was joy. It was laughter. It was brother mourning brother and sister holding sister and every dream of a thousand yearning souls condensed into one bright moment. 

Those around Tanjiro could feel it best of all, Genya knew. The young man practically radiated that same energy anyway. And here, gathered among friends and allies, Genya could finally put a name to it. 

It was hope.

Not the thin hope men cling to when there’s nothing else, when the walls have caved in and daybreak is hours away and the jaws of hungry death creep closer and closer, no. This was the strong kind. Pulsating. Palpable. The kind of hope for the future that can only be felt when the last hurdle is crossed and the next day is guaranteed. No longer would humanity need to fear the darkness. No longer would innocent lives be destroyed as families were torn limb-from-limb. The Demon Slayer Corps had reached the future they’d been dreaming of for centuries. Now all that was left was to go out and build it.

As the sun set behind the mountains, the former Sound Pillar and his Shinobi wives climbed to the top of the manor’s third-story roof, where they shot off rockets that erupted in showers of red and gold and silver. Inosuke bolted up from where he’d sat eating with the others as soon as he noticed the firework display, scaling the building easily and standing with the ninjas with a crazed grin on his face. If Genya listened hard enough he could hear the newly-dubbed Beast Pillar’s manic cackle through the booms and expressions of awe from the crowd below, but he couldn’t care less about the Beast Pillar or the fireworks. His eyes were fixed squarely on Tanjiro. 

Tanjiro, whose handsome face lit up with every explosion of brightness from above. Light painted the planes of his cheeks and forehead and the bridge of his nose with the shades of each firework, shifting across him like a dancing flame as they reflected perfectly in his clear bright eyes. 

Genya's heart pounded, but he bit his cheek. As much as he wanted otherwise, there was one hope that could never be reached. 

He jolted as he realized, as he’d been watching Tanjiro, Kanao had been watching him. Her head cocked at a slight angle, and her steady violet eyes betrayed no emotion. Kaburamaru had slithered out from around her neck, staring at Genya with the same mute expression. 

Genya’s face flushed immediately. Slowly, a slight wrinkle appeared between Kanao’s eyebrows as they furrowed, as if she’d put two and two together.

Shit, Genya thought, feeling as though his throat had closed entirely, Shit, shit, shit.

Kanao’s expression deepened. Genya’s molars felt glued shut as his heart raced. There was no doubt about it, she and her freaky eyes had figured him out. She knew the secret of his shameful attraction and would expose him to the entire corps to protect Tanjiro from Genya’s disgraceful conduct. 

He had to do something. He had to act fast and change the situation. His sword and gun were still in his quarters, but maybe if he moved quick enough he could grab Zenitsu’s sword there on the grass next to him and stab himself in the leg as a distraction. He could feign insanity and be ushered out of the party without further incident. 

Yeah, insanity. Genya thought, arm tensing to reach for Zenitsu’s sword. That’s good. That way if Kanao tells the others what she figured out, they’ll think it was just because I’d lost my mind. 

Before he could set his plan into motion, Kanao spoke. 

“Are you alright, Genya?”

Her voice was soft and low so as not to alert the others, who wouldn’t be able to hear them over the booming fireworks anyway. 

“It looks like your heart is beating really fast. Are you in pain?” 

Oh. Right. He nodded stiffly. This excuse worked just as well. Besides, Genya was always in pain these days.

Kanao retrieved the bottle of painkillers from her pocket and gave him two more white pills. Genya swallowed them, the bitter coating lingering on his tongue for hardly a moment before sliding down his split throat. It didn’t dull the edge of his pain just yet, but he didn’t expect it would kick in for another few minutes. 

“Thanks…” He muttered, chancing a glance upward. Kanao’s serene smile had returned. Tanjiro hadn’t noticed the exchange. 

“Pardon me, masters.” A voice said from behind them, pointedly enough to be heard over the booming lights above. Genya turned to see a Kakushi, her black eyes the only part of her face visible behind her white headband and striped mask. She bowed low with her hands pressed together as Tanjiro, Nezuko, Kanao, and Zenitsu turned to face her as well. 

“The Master requests your presence.” The Kakushi continued as she rose, “A final meeting of the Hashira.” 

“Really?” Tanjiro rose, an excited light in his eye, “Please, lead the way.” 

The Sun Pillar took a step forward, then stumbled slightly. Nezuko’s strong arm was there in an instant, bracing against him and keeping him stable as he walked. Neither sibling acknowledged the moment, staring straight ahead with bright eyes and enthusiastic smiles. Genya marveled at their unbridled trust in one another, but figured it made sense. They knew each other better than anyone else on earth, after all. After hunting demons together for years, they probably knew each of the other’s limits as well as their own. 

A sting of old shame welled up within Genya. If he hadn’t blamed Sanemi for their mother’s death and driven him away, maybe they could have worked together hunting demons like the Kamado siblings had. Maybe they would have made a good team as well. 

The five of them followed the Kakushi into the manor. The dark red polished support beams reflected orange candle light through the dim halls. Artwork and rich silks draped the walls every now and then, but the house seemed mostly bare of furniture and living utility, like the bones of a discarded forest creature left to rot. Genya imagined the place would turn to ruin soon enough without continuous use, and briefly wondered what the Ubuyashiki siblings would do now that their family’s legacy was accomplished. 

The Kakushi opened a sliding door and stepped aside. 

“The Master awaits.” 

She bowed again and hurried out, leaving Genya and the others to file into the room. 

The short hallway opened into a wide conference room. Kiriya and his sisters sat at the head of the meeting, with Sanemi and Giyuu before them. Mr. Urokodaki sat next to Giyuu and across from the flame-headed man Genya didn’t know, the other retired Hashira. All that remained were Tengen and Inosuke.

The Kakushi are probably still trying to get them down from the roof, Genya thought wryly.

“Ah, you’ve arrived.” Kiriya smiled as they entered. “Please, sit anywhere you’d like. All are equal here.” 

There was that word again. Equal. Kiriya said it so casually, as if it was true. As if Genya was just as skilled as these other legends before him. Contrition twisted in his guts, but he sat down next to Sanemi anyway as the Kamado siblings squeezed in between Giyuu and Mr. Urokodaki, leaning over one another and speaking excitedly to the two master Water Breathers. 

“Sit up straight before the Master.” Urokodaki instructed quietly. Tanjiro and Nezuko snapped to attention immediately, facing forward with slight lines of giddy guilt around their broad smiles. 

“You are Hashira now,” Giyuu said in the same tone, “You must behave as such.”

“Right.” Tanjiro said, bowing his head. “Apologies, Kiriya-Sama.”

“Apologies.” Nezuko echoed, bowing her head as well.

Next to Genya, Sanemi’s mouth quirked upward slightly, almost gloating that Genya had been well behaved while Giyuu’s charges were not.

“Please, no need for formalities,” Kiriya laughed with a wave of his hand, “All is forgiven. The Corps has disbanded as of today. I appreciate your respect of course, but you are free to behave as you’d like.”

“Forgive me Kiriya-Sama,” Sanemi spoke up, “But we cannot do that. The other Corps members may be able to go on with their lives, but every person in this room has devoted themselves to the same cause. None of us can ever forget what you or your family have done. You have our eternal respect.”

Sanemi bowed low, both hands on the ground. Giyuu, Urokodaki, and the Kamado’s followed instantly, and Genya did the same. He couldn’t see Kanao, Zenitsu, or the flame-headed man behind them, but assumed they were bowed in reverence as well.

Genya was torn between the deep, abiding veneration he felt toward the family, and some slight annoyance toward Sanemi. His brother seemed to be taking every opportunity he could to bow to the Ubuyashiki name, pulling the rest of them into the action by default lest they seem like their devotion to the cause had waned in comparison. 

I mean, he’s right, Genya thought as he pressed his forehead to the floor with the others, I have nothing but respect for them, but really. How many times is Nemi gonna make the rest of us bow?

But no, his eyes widened as he realized. Ever since their family had died, the Demon Slayer Corps had become Sanemi’s purpose for living. There wasn’t a shred of insincerity in the repeated action. The Wind Pillar’s devotion was as unshakable as the firmament above. 

The moment was ruined as Inosuke barreled into the room with a violent cackle, followed by Tengen and his three wives. 

“You brute! Don’t just barge into the Master’s chamber!” A black-haired woman in a short blue dress admonished, charging in after him. 

“Ugh, he’s too fast,” Tengen grit his teeth, “Makio, help Suma pin him down!”

“Yes Lord Tengen!” Makio said, her blonde bangs fluttering in the air for an instant as she leapt across the room, tackling Inosuke from the side. 

The three of them rolled over the floor in a mass of flailing limbs but before Genya knew it, Inosuke was pinned facedown on the ground. Makio sat on top of his back, while Suma restrained his flailing legs. He beat the floor with closed fists, but couldn’t move as he screamed curses and threats at the top of his gravelly voice. 

Genya stared, dumbfounded. The Ubuyashiki siblings and the other Hashira in the room all looked just as surprised, though Sanemi’s face quickly shifted to a mask of burning, barely-contained rage as he stewed in silence.

“Inosuke, what’s the matter?” Tanjiro asked, his voice making the Beast Pillar stop struggling for a moment as he looked up, guilty.

“Our apologies everyone,” Hinatsuru, Tengen’s third wife, stepped forward to speak. “Our celebratory fireworks seemed to have riled up Lord Inosuke more than any of us anticipated. We had to chase him into this room.”

“There are so many more to launch!” Inosuke writhed, “Let me go, let me go!”

All looked up as Kiriya laughed, a broad smile on his face. It dissolved the antsy nerves that had crawled through Genya at the outburst in an instant, and he let his shoulders relax. 

“Don’t worry Inosuke,” Kiriya said, “You can get back to your fireworks soon. I promise I won’t take up much more of your time. Please, everyone, have a seat.”

Inosuke stopped struggling, and Suma and Makio let him get to his feet, where he shook them off and then took a seat between Kanao and Zenitsu in the row behind Genya. Tengen and his wives sat at the end of the room, Makio and Suma keeping a close eye on Inosuke. 

“Now then,” Kiriya spoke once everyone had settled, “Thank you all for coming. The Corps is disbanding, as you well know, but we the Ubuyashiki family have a final request for you Hashira.” 

“A very long time ago, Muzan Kibutsuji was once human.” Kuina spoke. “He was no god nor devil. He was turned into the Demon King by human hands.”

Genya’s brow furrowed. He hadn’t known that.

“When human, our records show that Kibutsuji had a rare disease.” Kanata spoke next. “This, combined with an experimental treatment, altered the chemistry of his body and turned him into the monster we knew.” 

“Because this has happened once, it could happen again.” Kiriya said. “Kibutsuji and his spawn are destroyed, but in a new era, a new demon king may arise. The chances of this are slim of course, but not impossible.”

“The world is a wide place.” Kuina said. “Many centuries ago, a Lower Moon made his way to Europe, where he took the name Dracula. He killed scores of people, and even turned a few into demons himself.”

“Dracula and his brood were destroyed three decades ago, but their existence was a great concern to our organization.” Kanato said. “If Kibutsuji’s reach had spread that far from Japan, where else could demons have spread? What other dangers exist in the world?”

Genya swallowed hard. He hadn’t known this either. He’d always considered demons to be a uniquely Japanese problem. The knowledge that they had made their way out into the greater world chilled him to the bone. Could there still be more out there, somehow? 

He looked around at his fellow slayers. There was still strength in this room to be sure, but they were all way past their prime. All were wounded. Some were nearly as beaten as Genya himself, missing limbs or eyes or scarred all over their bodies. Some had already been retired for years. 

Could the few of them gathered in this room really be called into action again?

“We have confirmed that there are only two demons left in the world,” Kiriya spoke, “The demon Yushiro, and his cat Chachamaru. They have been allowed to live due to them and their master Lady Tamayo’s support in the final battle, without which we would not have succeeded. The technique Lady Tamayo used to turn Yushiro and Chachamaru into demons without Muzan’s blood makes them docile, and has died with her. They cannot spawn more demons. They have sworn to never harm humans, just as Nezuko did.”

“Yushiro and Chachamaru are good friends of ours.” Nezuko said, bowing her head to the Master before turning to the others. “But I understand if you cannot trust them because they are demons. Because of this, if they ever harm a human…” She paused, as if unsure how to continue. Next to her, Tanjiro gave a sad smile, and squeezed her hand. She nodded, then took a breath. 

“If they ever harm a human, I have sworn to kill them, and then commit seppuku, just as Giyuu-sama, Urokodaki-sama, and my brother swore on my behalf.”

Genya’s jaw dropped. Next to the girl, Giyuu and Urokodaki turned in shock. Only Tanjiro seemed unfazed by the news, as if he had known already. 

A tingle of electric energy filled the room, pricking every hair on Genya’s body. 

Here we go… Genya thought as Zenitsu’s scream built to a near-deafening blast.

“WHAAAAT!!! NO! NEZUKO, YOU CAN’T!!!”

Zenitsu’s eyes were wide and panicked, looking around for somebody, anybody, to object to this. None did. They had all known what it meant for Nezuko to exist in the Demon Slayer Corps in the first place, and none could begrudge her of this sacrifice.

“I’m sorry Zenitsu,” Nezuko said with a sad smile, “But I have to. Thank you for being concerned, but it will all be fine. I promise.”

“Then! Then..!” Zenitsu stammered, “I’ll take the oath too! ”

Nezuko’s pink eyes widened in surprise. She put her hand to her mouth.

“...Zenitsu?” 

She said the name barely above a whisper, as if it was the only thing that mattered in the world. Zenitsu cast his eyes to the ground. 

“My leg is mostly dead.” He admitted. “I can’t use thunder breathing like I used to. I’m not good for much anymore. But if Nezuko is gone, I truly have no purpose for living. So…” He straightened up, his eyes set in a grim line as he addressed Kiriya. “I swear this as well. I will watch the demons Yushiro and Chachamaru and make sure they never harm a single human. I stake my life on it.” 

Nezuko’s eyes softened as her mouth broke in a smile that rivaled the light of her brother’s. Behind Zenitsu, Tengen cracked a slight smirk. Suma put her hand over her mouth as her eyes brimmed with tears, and Hinatsuru gave the Thunder Pillar a look overflowing with motherly affection. Makio made a bemused expression, as if she hadn’t expected such a gesture from him.

“I have taken this oath as well.” Tanjiro broke the silence, bowing his head slightly to the others in the room. “I know I don’t have much time left, but…” He looked back up, “I will do what I can while I can do it.” 

Genya’s blood chilled. His mind raced, unable to focus on anything else.

Tanjiro doesn’t have much time left? Genya thought rapidly, What does that mean? What could he-

His thoughts stopped dead cold as his eyes spotted the wide maroon scar over the left side of Tanjiro’s forehead, flaming over his perfect skin. 

The mark of the Sun Breather. 

Of course. How could Genya be so stupid? He and Tanjiro had talked about that same mark only a few months ago during Himejima’s boulder training. Tanjiro had actually been excited to hear that the mark had grown bigger, as it meant that he had grown stronger as a slayer. How could Genya not have put this together before now?

Tanjiro was seventeen now. That meant, at most, he had eight years left before the curse of the mark claimed his bright life as well. 

The realization cut Genya to the heart. Cold sweat broke over his neck and shoulders, and a nauseous churning began in his guts as his mind seemed to slip out of focus.

Tanjiro would die. 

It’s alright, Genya thought, Eight years is a long time, he can still live a good life.

Even as he tried to console himself, he knew it wasn’t true. His family had been ripped from him eight years ago. He still remembered it like it was yesterday. He still felt their blood, their cold, limp bodies, still remembered talking with policemen about the incident and being one of the few people to attend the funeral for his siblings at the local temple, watching their mixed ashes scatter to the wind.  

His jaw clenched tight, fighting the tears pooling in his eyes. 

Eight years would pass in a blink.

“I will take this oath as well.” A voice said. It took Genya a moment to realize it was Sanemi, even though he was right next to him. “Though he is a demon, I trust Yushiro.”

He turned to Genya next, his gray eyes lighting on Genya with nothing but love. 

“I owe him everything.”

The tears won. Genya blinked rapidly, but couldn’t stem their tide. He clutched Gyomei’s ojuzu beads tightly. Sanemi’s hand rested on his shoulder, and after a moment, Genya turned to the others. 

“I’m only alive because of Yushiro.” He explained for the benefit of those who did not know. “My wounds were too severe, and will destroy my body if I do not continually take in his demon flesh. If Yushiro turns, my life is already forfeit, so I will devote myself to his destruction as well.” 

The flame-headed man next to Kanao seemed to be vibrantly disgusted with the news that Genya ate demons, but it was a reaction Genya was accustomed to by now and he paid it little mind.  He couldn’t focus on that, for now it seemed it was Tanjiro’s turn to break for Genya’s sake. His wide pink and scarlet eyes stared across the room with a look of such pure sorrow that it made Genya’s already shattered heart splinter into a million smaller pieces. He looked down, unable to meet Tanjiro’s gaze for long. 

“My brothers and sisters,” Kiriya’s voice floated over the negative aura that had settled in the room, washing it away like rain. “You must remember, Yushiro is a trusted friend and ally of the Corps. It is a risk we take, to be sure, but that is all preparation for a worst-case scenario that I believe will not come to pass. I have total trust and confidence in him, just as my father did.”

“Kanae always hoped we could one day be friends with the demons.” Kanao spoke softly. “Neither Shinobu or I believed it until we met Nezuko. I think Kanae would be happy to know that her dream could come true.”

“Yes.” Kiriya nodded solemnly. “I do not wish for you to view Yushiro’s continued existence as a threat. It is a caution we must be aware of, but it is not the purpose of this final meeting.”

“What would you have us do?” Urokodaki asked, his voice low and mellow as a stream.

“Yes.” Kiriya lowered his head. “As we have told you, Muzan was once a man. The conditions that brought him into existence could one day be replicated.”

“We of the Ubuyashiki family will remain diligent.” Kuina spoke. “We will raise our children with the knowledge of the past, and keep the memory of these last thousand years alive should it ever need to be called upon again. If it is ever needed, the Demon Slayer Corps will return.”

“We do not ask the same level of commitment from you.” Kanata spoke. “You have all fought hard and deserve your retirement. We will make sure each of you have what you need to live comfortably for the rest of your days. But, as you are Hashira, we do have one last request for you.”

“We would like you to preserve your legacies.” Kiriya said. “Record your experiences to the fullest of your memories, and pass down your techniques to those willing to learn. The swordsmanship and knowledge you all possess is the result of a thousand years of hard work and lives lost. It would be a shame for it all to simply disappear within a generation.”

Genya nodded slowly. He could see the wisdom in this. Aoi had talked about implementing a similar program with Kiyo, Sumi, and Naho after all. 

“Should the time ever come that the Demon Slayer Corps needs to return,” Kiriya continued, “we would ask those of you who are willing and able to come and serve as Hashira again, to the best of your abilities. You know this work better than anyone, after all. The new generation of Slayers would look to you for guidance.”

“This outcome is not likely to come to pass.” Kuina spoke. “It is doubtful the demons will ever return. You should be free to live long, happy lives for the rest of your days.”

Long, happy lives… Genya thought with unease, glancing at the three Marked Hashira.

“But it is in our family’s nature to prepare for the worst.” Kanata said. “As we’ve said, the three of us will take up the brunt of this responsibility. Should we ever need to call on your power again, it will be a dark day for all of us.”

“That is all we wished to leave you with.” Kiriya smiled. “Thank you again for all your hard work over your lives. We are eternally grateful.”

With that, he and his sisters bowed to the Hashira. Sanemi opened his mouth to protest, a counter-bow ready in an instant, but Genya put a hand on his arm, pulling him back. Sanemi turned to him, confused. Genya smiled sadly. He’d finally figured Sanemi out.

“It’s okay to let them express their gratitude.” He said softly, so only his older brother could hear. “You’ve done good work. You’ve earned their thanks.”

Sanemi’s mouth twisted. His eyes darted between Genya and the Ubuyashiki siblings, who were rising from their bow. After a moment a light of understanding came into them, and a slight smile came to his face. He made no protest. 

“Thank you for attending this meeting.” Kiriya said. “With any luck, it will be our last, though I will dearly miss you. Please keep in touch, and feel free to visit us any time.”

“Take your time creating your records.” Kuina said. “There is no need to rush in sending them to us. We will be waiting.”

“Please live happily for the rest of your days.” Kanata said. “It is our greatest hope as a family that all you Slayers reach the peace you have fought for.”

With that, the white-haired Ubuyashiki sisters rose and left the room. Inosuke took that as his cue to finally leave and return to the fireworks, eagerly dragging Makio by the wrist behind him as Suma and Hinatsuru followed. Tengen briefly stopped by Tanjiro, promising they’d catch up again soon, before following his wives out the door. Next to leave was the flame-headed man, promising Kiriya that he and his son would continue on the Rengoku family legacy. 

Nezuko, Kanao, and Zenitsu followed him out, talking excitedly about what they might write down or teach to future slayers, and Tanjiro, Giyuu, and Urokodaki followed soon after, both of Urokodaki’s former students asking how he was doing alone on his mountain. Sanemi patted Genya on the knee, said he’d meet them back in their room, and followed the crowd out the door. 

That left just two people in the room. 

Genya turned, head low before the Master. 

Chapter Text

“Is there something I can still help you with, Genya?” Kiriya asked, looking down at him with a curious tilt to his head. Genya’s fingers worked in and out of a fist before he spoke.

“Yes,” He said, avoiding eye contact. “I’m sorry, I’m just… Still a little confused about my rank. I understand how I came into it through combat, but still, why Moon Hashira? I mean, I’m not a Moon Breathing user.”

“Neither is Nezuko a Blood Breathing user, as that technique does not exist anymore.” 

“Blood Breathing was a thing?” Genya cocked his head. 

“It was a variant of Water Breathing that a rather mysterious Hashira developed before my grandfather was born.” Kiriya shrugged. “She left no record of how to perform her technique, and it died with her. This is part of the reason I wish to preserve our history, so no more is lost. Mitsuri made a detailed record of how she developed Love Breathing with Kyojuro from Flame Breathing, and even though her unique abilities made her the only one likely able to ever wield that style, it’s still an invaluable resource to us.”

“Right…” Genya winced, “I’m afraid I don’t have anything like that to pass down.”

“Do you not think your abilities are incredible?” Kiriya asked, surprised. 

Genya grit his teeth. No. His abilities were monstrous. A desperate result of when he’d discovered them by biting into a demon’s hand who’d had him pinned, and accidentally drinking some of the demon’s blood. It was barbaric and borderline cannibalistic. He shook his head, not meeting Kiriya’s eye.

“Well I think they are.” Kiriya smiled. “There have been slayers in the past who practiced the same techniques you use, but you have taken it further than anyone else before you.”

Genya tilted his head, confused. Shinobu had told him there had been other demon eaters in the corps in ages past, but surely others had been better at the dark craft than himself. Surely Kiriya was mistaken. 

“You developed a Blood Demon Art.” Kiriya leaned forward, a glimmer of light in his eye. “You turned the enemy’s weapon against them. No other demon consumers ever achieved such a feat, nor did they have the degree of strength or healing capabilities you possess while in your demon form. I know you still don’t believe it yourself, but your complete mastery of your abilities is all the more reason I believe you are worthy of the rank of Hashira.” 

Genya caught his breath. Complete mastery? He’d never considered what he did anything to master, he just took the first bite of demon flesh he could find and prayed for the best as the night went to shit around him. 

“As for your title of Moon Hashira,” Kiriya continued, “It’s true that you don’t practice Moon Breathing, but I don’t think that’s an issue in this case. After all, the moon changes each night just as you do, Shinazugawa-sama. I think your title suits you just fine.”

Genya frowned. He’d never considered that aspect before, but now that Kiriya had said so, it made the tiniest bit of sense. He supposed the boy was more like his father in that way than even he realized. 

“...I see. Thank you Kiriya-sama.”

Genya rose, gave a respectful bow to the young Corps leader, and moved toward the exit. 

“Please enjoy the rest of your evening here,” Kiriya called after him, “And Genya,”

Genya paused, turning back to Kiriya.

“Please enjoy the rest of your life. I’ve heard about your current condition and what it means. I know you’ll have days filled with terrible pain, but please. Enjoy the rest of your life to the best of your ability.” 

The words would sound canned and cheap coming from anyone else, but from Kiriya, they were nothing but true. A weary smile came to Genya’s face. 

“I’ll try. Thank you, Kiriya-sama.”

He left the room, and found his way back through the winding hallways back out to the courtyard. Many Slayers had settled in for the night already, but the lawn was still full of Corps members looking up at the booming sky, and the air still echoed with Inosuke’s hacking laughter from up on the roof. Genya looked around for Tanjiro and the others, but the green and black checkered haori was nowhere in sight. 

He’s probably back in his room, Genya thought, then fought back a yawn. He could use some rest as well. The meeting was over tomorrow, and they would all be leaving. His stomach clenched at the thought of another train ride. 

He moved down the outside walkway, absentmindedly studying the exotic and beautiful plants as he went, then turned into the hall at the far door where his and Sanemi’s quarters waited. 

His brother looked up as he entered, his white hair bright even in the darkness. 

“You talked more with the Master.” 

It wasn’t an accusation, simply a stated fact. Sanemi looked at him expectantly as he sat up on his futon, one arm resting on his knee. Genya nodded, closing the door behind him. 

“What about?” Sanemi prompted.

“Not much, really. Mostly my rank.” Genya sighed. “I… really still don’t think I’ve earned the title, but if it’s what the Master and the rest of the corps agree with, I guess I’ll accept it.” 

Sanemi’s face fell. He looked away. 

“I’m sorry again for this morning. I should have talked with you more about what you wanted.”

“No, I’m honored, really.” Genya laughed wearily, “Just… a little embarrassed for how I acted.”

“You should’ve seen when Tomioka became a Hashira.” Sanemi snickered. “The idiot couldn’t say anything for a solid minute. Iguro and I thought he’d died on the spot, and when he finally spoke, Master Kagaya had to lean in to hear his answer because he was so quiet.” 

Genya’s mouth twisted upward as he pictured the poor man quivering before the Master and the assembled Hashira. He knew exactly how Tomioka must have felt. 

“ Oh! ” Sanemi’s eyes widened and he sat up a little straighter, a shred of his old manic grin returning. “I never told you why that shit-for-brains was late to this meeting, did I?”

Genya shook his head warily. He hadn’t heard the news.

“He was making me ohagi.”

Genya blinked. Sanemi’s expression looked to be a strange combination of enraged and humored, that when put together mostly made him look confused.

“Uh, what?” Genya asked, just as bewildered. “Why?”

“No idea!” Sanemi threw his arms into the air. “He told me the Kamado brat found out I liked it somehow, and he spent all day making it from scratch! Not even bought from a market, from scratch! ”

“What the fuck?”

Genya’s brow furrowed, struggling to picture the stoic Water Pillar wearing an apron, boiling a pot of sweet rice and mashing red beans into paste with his remaining hand to wrap around the little delicacy. 

“Right!?” Sanemi laughed, “What the fuck! Like, what does he want from me?”

“Maybe he was just trying to be friendly?” Genya ventured. “I mean, you two were Pillars together for a long time. Maybe he wants to show you he cares about that relationship?”

Sanemi grew strangely serious, leaning forward. 

“Wait, do you really think so?”

“I don’t know,” Genya raised his hands defensively, “You know him better than I do.”

“Right,” Sanemi huffed, “I can still never get a read on the guy. It’s like he’s not even alive sometimes. So weird, right?”

“So weird.” Genya nodded. “...How was the ohagi?”

“I don’t fucking know, didn’t touch ‘em.”

Genya raised an eyebrow. 

“That doesn’t sound like you. You love ohagi. Besides…” A small smirk came to his face as he drove the nail home. “I thought you knew better than to waste food.”

“Oh, piss off.” Sanemi rolled his eyes, but there was no venom in it. His brother undid his futon covers and slid inside, turning his back to Genya. 

Genya stifled a snicker and got into his own futon. He began to drift off to sleep, but he snapped back to alertness as Sanemi muttered something quietly. 

“...They were pretty good.”

Genya smiled, and closed his eyes.

_____

The newly-dubbed Moon Hashira woke the next day to a blitzing pain in his left shoulder, throbbing where he’d slept on it wrong all night. 

Ugh, fuck, Genya thought as he rolled the stiffness out of the joint with repeated circular motions, Gimme a break, I never even got stabbed there. 

Sanemi had risen earlier than him once again, his bedding neatly folded and placed against the far wall, as they were leaving today and he wouldn’t need it anymore. A tray of food once again lay on the floor next to his bed, but Genya hardly paid it a glance as he rose and got ready for the day. 

His gaze lingered on his reflection as he scrubbed his face with soap. Dark, weary circles had made their way under his dull eyes. His center scar seemed to be more pink around the edges than it had been yesterday. His mohawk didn’t lay quite how it used to, now that his skull had been cleaved in two and scar tissue had replaced many follicles. His mouth felt dry and his lips looked chapped. 

Yeah, of course Tanjiro’s gonna fall for you, Genya thought sarcastically, What guy wouldn’t want an ugly, half-dead man for a lover?

His shoulders slouched as he met his own eyes in the mirror. This wasn’t healthy, he knew, but he couldn’t help it. The greatest, secret desire of his heart would never come true anyway. Might as well berate himself for dreaming too high. 

He finished his morning routine, then opened the door. His hand itched for the walking stick, as it had all day yesterday, but he steeled himself. He was a Hashira now, even if he didn’t believe it himself. He had to be as strong and put together as his predecessors for the sake of the slayers in ranks beneath him. 

Even now, he noticed a change as he moved out into the courtyard. Slayers and Kakushi seemed to give him a wide, respectful berth, staring at him and whispering between themselves as he passed. Genya’s ears burned red. 

If this is what it means to be a Hashira, he thought as his skin pricked with a dozen sets of eyes watching his every move, I don’t know why I ever wanted it.

“Genya!” A familiar, sunny voice called, “Over here!”

Genya turned. Sure enough, Tanjiro had spotted him across the wide lawn, and waved excitedly as he shuffled over to Genya, seeming to favor his right foot. Genya smiled in spite of himself, and moved to meet him halfway. 

“I’m glad I caught you!” Tanjiro smiled, “I wanted to talk to you again before you left.”

“Oh? What for?”

“No reason,” Tanjiro shrugged happily, “I just like talking to you.”

Warmth flooded through Genya’s chest as a smile warbled its way along his mouth. He looked down, bashful. 

“So where are you staying these days?” Tanjiro asked, “With your brother at the Wind Estate?”

The warmth leaked out of him. Genya blanked, realizing that after today, he didn’t exactly have a home. 

He couldn’t stay in the Butterfly Mansion forever, could he? No, he’d been burden enough on those poor girls. He hadn’t realized at the time, but Sanemi’s offer was just as much for Genya’s benefit as it was for his own. Surely his brother would be happy to have him, but Genya had already declined the invitation, would it be weird to come back and change his mind? Yes, surely it would be awkward, and then Sanemi would get mad at him again. Their relationship had just barely teetered back into good terms, and already Genya would ruin it, just like he ruined everything else.

…Okay, maybe Genya was being a tad dramatic here, but still. He couldn’t go back on his plans this early.

“...Genya?” Tanjiro asked, tilting his head so his pink and crimson eyes came into Genya’s line of sight.

“The mountains.” Genya said abruptly, snapping back to reality. “I’ll stay at Himejima-sensei’s old home. Someone should take care of it.”

It was a good answer. A clear answer. It left no loose ends, and everyone would accept it. Genya knew the mountain and the home well, and while his current state meant it would be difficult to maintain, at least his well-being wouldn’t be an encumbrance on others. He’d be safely squared away, and nobody would need to worry about him any more. 

“Yes, I see.” Tanjiro bowed his head. “I’m sure Himejima-san would appreciate that, but still…”

“What?”

Tanjiro met his gaze and bit his lip in a way that made Genya’s heart skip a beat, but he fought it down as curiosity got the better of him. It seemed as if Tanjiro was unsure how to continue. 

“...Being up there all alone sounds awfully lonely.” Tanjiro went on after a moment. “Are you sure that’s what he would want for you?”

Genya swallowed hard. 

No. Gyomei wouldn’t want that. He’d always stressed the fleeting nature of material things, and the eternal importance of relationships with other people. He wouldn’t mind if Genya left the old mountain house to disrepair, but he would be disappointed that the young man was all alone.

Still, as much as Gyomei’s spirit might will otherwise, there was one issue.

“I don’t really have anywhere else to go…” Genya admitted quietly.

“Oh!” Tanjiro brightened, “Well that’s easy! Come live with us!”

“What?!” Genya blurted, a spark of his old confused anger at Tanjiro’s antics rising within him. “What do you mean ‘live with us?’ Don’t say something like that like it’s so simple!”

“It is though.” Tanjiro tilted his head. “We’ve got plenty of space on the floor for another futon, and I’m sure you’d be a big help with the chores now that I can’t work as hard as I used to. Besides, Nezuko is already weaving more checker-patterned cloth for the others, I’m sure she won’t mind making one for you. Sumi, Kiyo, and Naho told me you like watermelon, is that right? There’s a farmer who grows the sweetest ones I’ve ever smelled at the foot of the mountain, we can get one for you on our way back!”

Genya’s head swam at the young man’s unflinching generosity, and it latched on to the first thing he could make sense of.

“Others? What others?”

“Inosuke and Zenitsu have moved in with us already. It’s been pretty lively at home lately!”

Tanjiro laughed. Even wounded and depleted as he was, it filled the air around him with pure sunlight, so much so that Genya nearly flinched to avoid getting burned. 

It made sense that Tanjiro had invited the feral boar man and the yellow-haired thunder breather to live with them. They were skilled slayers, and Tanjiro’s closest friends. He’d heard tales of their exploits, fighting the Twelve Kizuki alongside powerful Hashira and spending many happy days in recovery at the Butterfly Mansion, honing their skills and strengthening their bonds. 

Did Tanjiro really consider Genya that close of a friend?

“...I couldn’t impose on you like that. It’d be too crowded. I’d hate to inconvenience you. Thank you for your kind offer, but I think I should pass.”

He swallowed hard, looking away from the Sun Hashira.

“Goodbye, Tanjiro Kamado. It was good to know you.” 

Tears pricked in his eyes. Genya turned to leave, to pack up his things and take up his walking stick and head back toward Himejima’s mountain before the realization that this was the last moment he’d ever spend in Tanjiro’s warm presence sank in fully.

It was over. They had fought together, they had won together, and now they would return to their lives. That meant something very different for Tanjiro than it did for Genya. As true as the young man’s offer was, it was a generosity Genya just couldn’t accept. That combined with his confusing feelings for the young man made Genya all the more certain he was making the right decision. He couldn’t bring all his baggage and his dishonorable character into the Kamado household. He couldn’t do that to Tanjiro.

 He paused as a hand caught on his sleeve.

“Wait, please, I-” Tanjiro started, then looked down. 

“I like it crowded.”

Genya blinked, stunned.

“When Nezuko and I first returned,” Tanjiro continued softly, “it was so, so quiet. The house was so big and so cold. It was just us and the graves of our family outside. Having Nezuko around was great of course, but it just made us sad, being reminded of all we’d lost. When Zenitsu came by to visit a week later, we practically begged him to stay and he moved in without a second thought.” 

Tanjiro gave a slight chuckle. Genya’s face morphed into a sneer despite himself.

That little yellow perv probably got the wrong idea about the invitation. Genya thought in disgust. At least Genya had the decency to keep his crush on a Kamado sibling under wraps.

He smoothed his face out before Tanjiro could notice as the young man continued. 

“A few days after that, we heard some rustling outside. Zenitsu panicked, thinking it was Muzan back for revenge, but then Inosuke popped out saying that ‘as our supreme leader, he couldn’t abandon his underlings!’”

Tanjiro did a surprisingly good impression of the new Beast Pillar’s gravelly voice. Genya’s lip quirked up, and Tanjiro’s eyes flickered with an amused fire for a moment, delighted to share in some mirth.

“I think he was lonely too.” Tanjiro said with a sympathetic quality in his voice. “It didn’t take him very long to track us down, after all. We’ve all been living together for about a month now, and it’s been wonderful. It’s starting to feel like Nezuko and I have a big family again.”

Tanjiro grabbed hold of Genya’s hand with both of his, clasping one rough palm over the other. Genya froze, praying the blush on his face wasn’t as red as the fervent pounding in his chest made it seem.

“I meant what I said, Genya. You wouldn’t be a burden, not at all. I don’t have much time left, and I want to spend it with the people I love. I would love to have you come live with us.”

Genya froze.

The people I love.

The words pulled down all others around them with a warm, pulsing gravity. 

Love.

Did Tanjiro really love Genya?

Even if only as a friend, as Genya was sure he’d meant it, counting him among the others at the Kamado residence, that was still more than he’d ever hoped for. His pulse quickened to a rushing waterfall in spite of himself. 

At this rate, I’ll pop a blood vessel. Genya thought murkily, his head swimming.

Tanjiro hadn’t let go of his hand. Genya balked as he realized it, his first instinct being to pull away, but he let it be. They were friends after all, it wouldn’t be strange to any who looked. Besides, Tanjiro’s hands were awfully warm. It felt nice… 

“It’s too much.” Genya shook his head, trying to clear out his scrambled thoughts. “You’re really too kind for your own good, you know that?”

“Let’s call it a visit then.” Tanjiro said with a conspiratorial tilt to his eyebrows. “You’re just visiting, and you can leave whenever you’d like.”

Genya closed his eyes. Truth be told, he missed having a big family too. More than anything. On lonely missions out in the woods or in seedy cheap-rented rooms, he would imagine being surrounded by the sound of five little breathing bodies, snoring or mumbling or rolling around in their sleep. It was the only way he could get to sleep himself sometimes. He didn’t have to do it as much at the house in the mountains, as Himejima-sensei snored like an avalanche cascading down a cliffside, but Himejima-sensei wasn’t there anymore. If Genya went back to the house in the mountains, he’d have to face those quiet nights and solitary days alone.

He opened his eyes. His grip strengthened in Tanjiro’s, and a smile came to his face. 

“Alright, you win. I suppose it couldn’t hurt to visit.”

Tanjiro positively beamed. 

Chapter Text

Genya’s pack was not very heavy, as he’d never owned much to begin with, but it remained bulky and unwieldy in his left hand. The handle of the walking stick rested in his right, its base sturdily planted on the grass and the maple bark smooth in his palm. He still didn’t like the thought of his fellow corps members seeing him in such a state, but his self-consciousness faded a touch as he caught sight of other slayers with similar mobility aids. One Kakushi was even being pushed around in a wheelchair. 

As expected, it had not taken long for Genya to pack up his meager belongings into his bag and head out from the Ubuyashiki Manor. What did take long was saying goodbye to Sanemi.

“Oh, what,” He rolled his eyes when Genya broke the news, “You’d rather live with Kamado than your own brother?”

“It’s just a visit.” Genya’s ears burned. “I’m not staying forever.” 

He set his pack down and leaned his back against one of the red-stained support pillars of the outer courtyard. Clearly, Sanemi meant to have a conversation about this. 

“You’re breaking my poor old heart.” Sanemi sighed dramatically. 

“Oh, I’m sure.” Now was Genya’s turn to roll his eyes. “Listen, the Kamado’s place isn’t very far from the Wind Estate, you can come visit too.”

“I’m not visiting him. ” Sanemi’s lip curled, gazing across the courtyard where Tanjiro, Nezuko, Inosuke, and Zenitsu were saying goodbye to former comrades and friends. 

“Fine, I’ll just come visit you then. You’ll write, won’t you?”

Sanemi’s shoulders tensed. He looked down. 

“...Nemi?”

“I can’t write.” Sanemi said quietly.

"Sure you can," Genya tilted his head, "You wrote me that note just yesteday. 'Eat it, punk,' remember?"

"That was Aoi." Sanemi didn't meet his gaze. "I asked her to write it for me. I... never learned how."

Genya blinked. He hadn’t realized. Growing up, they hadn’t had enough money to send any of them to school, so none of them learned much beyond the basic math and reading their mother had taught them. Sanemi had read the invitation to the Ubuyashiki manor just fine back in the graveyard, so Genya just figured he’d picked up his letters somewhere along his journey, just like Genya had. 

“Oh, that’s okay,” Genya waved his hands hurriedly, “I’ll write to you then. How’s that?”

Sanemi nodded slowly before turning back to Genya with a smile.

“Yeah. I’d like that.”

Sanemi glanced across the clearing again and clapped Genya on the shoulder. 

“It looks like your friends are getting ready to leave. Go on, you don’t want to keep them waiting.”

“Right,” Genya straightened. 

He picked up his bag and took a few steps toward them, paused, then turned back to his brother and wrapped him in a tight hug. 

“Thank you, ‘Nemi. For everything.”

Sanemi blinked in surprise a few times before his face softened, and he hugged his younger brother back. As before, the strong arms around his severed core made the edge of Genya’s pain dull away, replaced with a light warmth. 

“I’m proud of you.” Sanemi said as he pulled away, resting a hand on Genya’s left shoulder. “Take care now. Don’t go dying again or I’ll murder you.”

“Alright, deal.” Genya laughed. “I’ll see you again soon, promise.”

“Promise.” Sanemi nodded with a smile, watching as Genya turned to join the others. 

“Genya!” Tanjiro brightened, looking up from Kanao as he approached. “We were just talking about you!”

Genya’s cheeks pinked.

“You were?”

“I wanted to give you this.” Kanao said, holding her pill bottle out to him. “You need it more than I do.” 

The pills. The blessed painkillers that bought Genya precious time free of his ever-present internal aches. Held aloft in Kanao’s perfectly manicured hand as gracefully as if she’d just caught a falling wisteria blossom. 

She’s seriously got to be an angel or something. He thought, in awe of her generosity.

“Share them with the others too, but be sure you don’t take more than two every eight hours. I’ll send you all more medicine as soon as I get back to the Butterfly Mansion.”

“Are you sure?” Genya said, taking the bottle in reverent hands. “Kanao, you brought these for yourself.” 

“I know.” Kanao looked down. Her hands twisted in and out of one another. Her eyes flickered among grass as if perceiving each blade individually rather than as a mass of fluffy greenery. Her shoulders hunched around her ears. If Genya didn’t know any better, he’d think she was embarrassed.

“...It was foolish of me to think only of my own pain. The war is won, but my work is far from over. I will take up my sister’s legacy. I will carry on until there is no more pain for any of our fellow slayers.”

Her eyes, vivid amethyst and pale, cracked periwinkle, both shone with renewed conviction. Genya couldn’t help the overwhelming gratitude that surged up in his chest for her, though it tempered a bit as he saw Tanjiro behind Kanao, staring at her with that same awed expression. 

“Thank you Kanao,” Tanjiro said, his voice light and genuine as ever. “We’ll all appreciate that very much, won’t we?”

He turned to Nezuko, Inosuke, and Zenitsu behind him, ever the older brother, prompting them to share their gratitude as well. 

“Thank you, Kanao!” Nezuko chirped in automatic chorus. 

“Can you send more cream for my feet? With the seaweed?” Zenitsu pleaded. “Oh! And the good bandages for my back! And the pills for my headaches! I had two headaches in one day last week, is that normal? Am I dying?”

You’re killing the rest of us, Genya thought, his mouth curling up into an annoyed sneer as his own head began to ache with the Thunder Pillar’s ceaseless complaining.

“Thank you, Kanao.” Inosuke said. His voice was still gruff, and his teeth were still bared in his characteristic grin, but he bowed his head in thanks to the Flower Pillar without a shred of mockery. Genya blinked, surprised, but remembered. They had fought Upper Moon Two together. They’d probably gained a lot of respect for each other during that encounter.

“It’s no trouble at all.” Kanao smiled. “Please, take care, all of you.” 

The Kamados and their guests waved goodbye to Kanao as she walked across the clearing to Sanemi, Aoi, and the three young butterfly sisters, who all waved excitedly as Tanjiro and Nezuko led Genya and the others out of the Ubuyashiki Manor gates. Sanemi gave Genya one last smile and a nod before the gate closed behind them, ushering the five of them into the red maple forest beyond.

“Alright, everyone ready?” Nezuko asked, slinging her pack over her right shoulder. 

“Ready.” Tanjiro smiled, taking his sister’s left hand in his right, his own left arm dangling limp at his side. 

Together, brother and sister walked into the forest. 

Zenitsu and Inosuke followed after them, plodding along at the pace Tanjiro had leisurely set for the others. Genya’s ears burned as his walking stick struck against the earth, taking up the rear of the pack. 

I’m slowing them down… His teeth grit together. 

Already his body was protesting, the split down his center pulsing with discomfort. He stopped in his tracks, put his bag down for a moment, and took the pill bottle from his pocket. Quiet as he could, he twisted the cap off the bottle and shook two white pills into his open palm. Ahead of him, Zenitsu’s ears twitched.

“You’re taking the medicine? Let me have some!”

Zenitsu appeared in front of him in an instant, a yellow blur through the red leaves. His hands clawed through Genya’s fingers until they had ripped the bottle from his hands, shaking the contents furiously into his waiting grasp. 

“Only two, only two!” Nezuko scolded at his growing pile, “Remember what Kanao said!”

“As long as it’s out, I wouldn’t mind taking one.” Tanjiro laughed wearily.

Nezuko nodded. Quick as a whip she snatched the bottle and the pile of pills from Zenitsu’s hands, then counted out two for him and one for her brother. She poured the rest of the pills back into the bottle with a hollow rattling sound.

“Thank you, Nezuko.” Tanjiro smiled, taking the pill in his mouth. 

“Thanks…” Genya said as Nezuko handed the bottle back to him, shooting Zenitsu a glare over her head.

“I need water,” Zenitsu complained, his pills still in his palm. 

“Oh, right.” Nezuko said, opening her pouch and producing a gourd canteen. Its contents sloshed as she passed it over to him, then again as he pulled out its stopper with a pop. Zenitsu put the pills in his mouth, then drank deeply. Genya put his pills in his mouth, swallowing them dry with a kind of smug satisfaction. He might be slowing the group down, but at least he wasn’t complaining while doing so.

The spirit of competition rose in him, and Genya decided. Every time Zenitsu complained, Genya would just push himself further to make up for it. Genya himself wouldn’t utter a word of grievance, no matter how long or arduous the journey. 

He paused this train of thought as he looked around, then behind them, where the walls of the Ubuyashiki Manor could still be spotted through the foliage. They were not leaving the same way that Genya, Sanemi, and the Butterfly Sisters had come. 

“Hey, uh,” Genya started, “Where are we going?”

“Back to Gonpachiro and Mebuko’s house, duh.” Inosuke said with a sneer.

“...Huh?” 

“He means Tanjiro and Nezuko’s house.” Zenitsu said for Genya’s benefit.

“That’s what I said.” Inosuke frowned.

“Is not.”

“Is too.”

“Is not!”

“Is too!”

Genya tuned their squabbling out as Tanjiro turned his head, looking over his shoulder as he walked with a smile. 

“Inosuke’s right, we’re just going back to our house.”

“No, right, I knew that,” Genya stumbled over his words, “But, don’t we need to get back to town, to get on the train?”

“Train?” Tanjiro cocked his head. 

“We didn’t come on a train.” Nezuko shrugged. 

“You walked? ”

“The town at the foot of our mountain doesn’t have a train station.” Nezuko said. “We didn’t have another way. Besides,” She laughed, as if uncomfortable. “We don’t really have the money for train tickets.”

Genya blinked, the surprise plain on his face. Not enough for train tickets? The siblings had only just barely become Hashira, so he wasn’t surprised they weren’t as fabulously wealthy as the others of their rank had been, but Tanjiro had still been an exceptionally high-ranking slayer even before the final confrontation with Muzan. Surely he should have money to spare. 

“We’ve walked all over Japan together.” Tanjiro smiled, looking at Nezuko. “I thought one last long journey with our friends would be nice.”

Wind rustled through the leaves above them, and sunlight streamed through the gaps in the red canopy and lit on Tanjiro’s face and hair as he walked. Nezuko’s presence was a similar rare beauty, graceful and serene as a starry night sky. Zenitsu and Inosuke’s skirmish had turned into playful banter, their laughter and chasing footsteps filling the forest with amicable sound among the chorus of birds and insects. Genya had to admit, under different conditions, this journey would be very pleasant. 

A pulse of discomfort from his lower section made him pause and remember, he wasn’t operating under different conditions. No, he was in the same condition he’d been in since that terrible night in the Infinity Castle, the mark of the demon’s rage carved into his very flesh.

“...How long did it take you to walk here?” Genya asked, afraid of the answer.

Tanjiro didn’t break stride, but his shoulders seemed to tense up a touch. He didn’t look back at Genya.

“About three days…” He admitted. “Before, we could’ve done it in a single day, no problem, but…”

Tanjiro didn’t need to finish his sentence. Genya could see it himself just as he’d seen it before, in the drag of his legs and the limpness of his left arm. The young man was weary.

“We tend to take a lot of breaks now.” Nezuko said, “Rest for an hour or so, then continue and camp at night. I hope that’s not an issue for you Genya.”

“Not at all.” Genya said, secretly relieved. He’d seen the beast Tanjiro had been during their training with the Hashira only a few months prior, how he could give a hundred percent all day and how his ceaseless energy inspired others to do their best as well. 

A small grin came to his face. He could do this. His body was in poor condition, yes, but at least it hadn’t just been shaken by a rumbling train for the past several hours like it had when he’d first taken the journey through the woods to the Ubuyashiki Manor. The terrain was smooth and the day pleasant, and now that he focused, he could feel Kanao’s medicine kicking in and taking away the worst of the ache. Soon, they’d have the chance to take a break and he could regain some of his strength. 

But most of all, the happiness in Genya’s heart was due to the fact that Tanjiro wasn’t slowing down for his sake. Tanjiro was moving at his own pace, one that happened to be perfect for both of them. 

What the fuck is wrong with me, Genya thought, his eyes bugging out of his head as he plodded along, Am I seriously grateful that Tanjiro is so injured that he can’t move quickly anymore? God and Buddha above, send me to hell.

Shame at his thoughts aside, Genya enjoyed the first leg of the journey. They reached the edge of the forest, where they rested in the shade for an hour, then continued through sweeping acres of rice fields under a warm late summer sky. They broke for lunch near a creek, where Inosuke ripped fish straight out of the water with his bare hands so Tanjiro and Nezuko could cook them over a fire, then continued on through country roads and over grassy hills. 

Inosuke took the lead most of the time, trooping ahead with big exaggerated motions, but would occasionally get bored and run circles around the party as they moved just to prove he could. Tanjiro and Nezuko walked side by side for the most part, and Zenitsu was almost always on Nezuko’s other side, chatting to her about anything and everything while she smiled and listened, occasionally pitching in with a statement or question or laughing at one of his jokes. 

Genya followed behind. He had to admit, walking behind Tanjiro had some major benefits, even though his cheeks pinked with shame every time he happened to glance at the curve of Tanjiro’s neck as it braced between his strong shoulders. 

“Your heartbeat keeps going up,” Zenitsu said, turning back to him with a cocked ear after Genya had taken an especially long absentminded glance, “Are you doing okay, Genya?”

“Fine!” Genya straightened, his face reddening as Tanjiro turned around in concern. “I’m fine! Just tired, that’s all.” 

It was a good excuse, especially because it happened to be true. The weight of the journey had settled in his weary muscles and heavy limbs, and Genya knew he couldn’t go much further today. 

“Well,” Nezuko said, looking up at the sky with a frown, “It’s a little early, but it’ll be dark soon enough. We’ve made good time today. Hey, Inosuke!”
She called ahead to the wild half-naked Hashira, who was leaning over the edge of a boulder, poking at a dead bird with a stick. He looked up lazily at her voice. 

“Huh?” 

“Can you run ahead and find us a good camping spot for the night?”

“Yes!” Inosuke’s face lit up. He sat up straight from the boulder and scurried off, his swords clanking together at his hips as he ran.

“Close by, remember!” Tanjiro called after him, cupping his right hand around his mouth to magnify his voice, but it didn’t seem to matter, the Beast Pillar was nothing but a rustling in the bushes ahead. 

“Well, I guess we’ll see how far he takes us this time.” Nezuko laughed wearily. 

“I don’t wanna sleep in the woods again, it’s dark.” Zenitsu complained. 

“Aww, I was hoping you’d come with us.” Nezuko said, her eyes big. “I’d be so scared all by myself.”

Zenitsu’s face reddened as his mouth twisted, and a strangled kind of choking sound escaped his throat before he straightened to his full height. 

“Don’t worry! I’ll make sure it’s safe! You don’t have to worry at all!”

With a crack of thunder he was gone, pursuing Inosuke into the forest with the promise that he’d find the ‘most perfect, most beautiful, most safest campsite Nezuko had ever seen.’ Nezuko turned to Genya with a sly grin as Tanjiro stifled a laugh.

“Works every time.”

“Damn, he really is fast.” Genya blinked, still stunned by the booming electric current in the air. It seemed the Kamado siblings were used to it by now.

“I’d better go after them, make sure Zenitsu doesn’t get lost.” Nezuko said, looking to the forest with a worried eye, then turning back to Tanjiro and Genya. “Will you two be alright by yourselves for a little while?”

“We’ll be fine.” Tanjiro laughed. “Besides, I can still smell them, they haven’t gotten too far.” 

“Alright, keep moving down the path. I’ll make sure they get a good campsite by the road, and you two can join us when you get there. We’ll get things set up for you in the meantime.”

Nezuko waved back to Genya and her brother, then ran ahead, following her friends.

“She’s fast too.” Genya remarked, watching as she disappeared down the road.

“Yes.” Tanjiro nodded with a smile. “Even though she’s not a demon anymore, she kept a lot of her strength. I’m glad.”

“I thought Zenitsu hurt his feet.” Genya frowned.

“He did.” Tanjiro snickered, “He really shouldn’t be using Thunder Breathing until he recovers enough. But, I suppose there’s no stopping love.”

Genya didn’t say anything for a moment. Tanjiro looked at him over his shoulder, then took the next step down the path. Genya followed, his walking stick tapping against the dirt and Gyomei’s beads rustling together every so often in his pocket.

“Do you really think he’s in love with her?” Genya said after about a dozen steps. “And are you okay with that?”

“I think so, yes.” Tanjiro said, a hand on his chin. “He smells like it anyway. He’s done a lot for Nezuko over the years too, and helped to keep her safe when I couldn’t. I owe him a lot. I think he would make a good husband for her, once he grows up a little.”

“Hmm.” Genya nodded. “I guess that’s fair.”

“Nezuko likes him too.” Tanjiro said, a smile coming to his face as his eyes softened. “She won’t admit it, but I can tell. She likes teasing him, and she thinks he’s a good person, especially after he took on that vow with Nezuko and I.” 

“Right, the vow…” Genya’s fist clenched a little tighter around his luggage handle as he remembered he’d made the same pact, “You… you don’t think Yushiro will actually turn on us, do you?”

“No. I don’t.” Tanjiro shook his head, then looked at Genya. “But we don’t know what the future will bring. I have total faith in Yushiro, but I also know he’s a loose end in Muzan’s web. As much as I hate to admit it, he is a risk to the safety of everything we fought for.”

“Right… I guess Zenitsu must trust your judgment a lot if he was willing to risk his life as well.”

Tanjiro blinked, then laughed loudly. Genya stared in awe, partly reveling in the blessed sound, and partly wondering what was so funny.

“Ah, Zenitsu...” Tanjiro smiled, wiping a tear of mirth from his cracked right eye. “I hadn’t realized that was the reason. Listen Genya, I know he can be a lot to deal with sometimes, but he is a good friend. I hope you two can get along and become good friends too.”

Well, how can I say no to that? Genya thought, fighting down his disgust. He simply nodded, giving Tanjiro a weak smile.

“And how about you, Genya? Is there anybody you like?”

Tanjiro gave him a cheeky grin, the kind friends give each other when discussing love interests. The kind that, when on Tanjiro, made Genya nearly trip over his own feet. He caught himself, steadying his grip on his walking stick and trying to calm his racing heart. Tanjiro turned to him, head tilted in slight confusion. 

“N-no.” He stammered after a moment, feeling his face grow hot. “There’s nobody.” 

Tanjiro didn’t say anything. Genya’s teeth ground together anxiously.

He was able to *smell* that Zenitsu was in love, somehow, His mind raced as he refused to make eye contact with his companion, Is he doing the same now? Can he tell that I’m lying?

“Aww, that’s too bad.” Tanjiro frowned in sympathy after a moment, “But there’s no need to be embarrassed, I’m sure you’ll find a nice girl someday.”

God and Buddha, take me now. Genya thought, his face hot enough to sear a salmon.

The typical conversation pattern would now demand that Genya ask Tanjiro the same question in return, to see if there was any girl Tanjiro was interested in, but Genya couldn’t bring himself to ask. He knew the answer. 

It was the girl he’d trained with, the girl he’d fought against Muzan with, the girl who’d restored his humanity. The girl who, even now, was providing relief and healing to Tanjiro and his companions in the form of the pills that rattled in Genya’s pocket. 

The girl Genya didn’t have a chance against.

He shook his head to clear it, then bluntly changed the topic to flowers after seeing a cluster of yellow blooms on the side of the path, which Tanjiro took to easily enough. Apparently there were lots of flowers on the mountain during the warm months, and Tanjiro and his siblings used to pick them often for their mother.

“She knew a lot about flowers.” Tanjiro smiled, his eyes hazy and far away as he walked. “She knew the name of every single one, and knew how to use them for medicine or for food. She’d even save the seeds of the good ones to plant in the garden next season.”

“That’s a useful skill.” Genya nodded. “Not many people in the big cities and towns know plants like that anymore.” 

“Do you like plants, Genya?”

“Yes, a lot.” Genya smiled. “Gyomei and I had a garden, and I worked there all the time after training, but even before I’ve always thought they were so interesting. I even based my Blood Demon Art on them.”

Tanjiro stopped in his tracks, turning to Genya with an almost disbelieving smile on his face.

“You have a Blood Demon Art? ”

“Yeah…” Genya said slowly, heat prickling on the back of his neck. “It’s weird, I know.”

“No!” Tanjiro protested, “Not at all! I think that’s really amazing!”

“...You do?”

“Of course! Nezuko has one too, after all. Only really strong demons develop them! I mean, I knew you were strong when you threw that tree at Hantengu, but still!”

Genya laughed, remembering that night in the Swordsmith Village well. It had been wild, dangerous, confusing, and the second-most deadly night in his life. Throwing the tree had been a desperate move, and though he’d hit his mark, Genya still felt bad about it and came back a few days later to grow a sapling at the site of the torn roots. 

“Kemboko! Dimya!” A gruff voice called. Genya looked up to see Inosuke on the trail ahead of them, waving them forward. 

“What took you so long? The camp is set up! Dinner’s almost done!”

“Is this our campsite? It’s great, you did a good job Inosuke!”

Tanjiro didn’t pay attention to the negativity, jumping straight into praise for the wild young man. It seemed to work, as Inosuke’s chest puffed up with pride. 

“Well, duh.” Inosuke said, his boar mask somehow curling up into a churlish happy smile. “I’m the one who found it.”

Genya watched the interaction closely. Inosuke seemed ready to bite in impatience just a moment earlier, but now seemed as docile as a goldfish. Was this how Tanjiro pacified the brutish young warrior, with just a few well-placed compliments?

“Tanjiro! Genya!” Nezuko called from where she sat in front of a campfire, “Come sit down! Inosuke caught rabbits.”

Tanjiro moved next to Nezuko, shrugging off his pack and sitting down on the earth next to her with a weary but satisfied sigh as the warm light of the fire flickered over his face. Genya sat next to him on his other side, then looked around. 

The campsite wasn’t much, despite Tanjiro’s praise. Just a small grassy clearing between a group of young beech trees. Zenitsu and Inosuke’s two thin bedrolls had been lain over the grass, and it appeared Inosuke had made himself a nest of sorts by scooping handfuls of dry leaves and soft grass into a pile at the edge of the clearing. 

 A short wall of stones had been built around a blazing fire, where Nezuko twisted a spit with two roasting rabbits every once in a while to cook them evenly. A mellow scent joined the savory smell of rabbit, and Genya looked down to see a cluster of large wild mushrooms roasting over the fire as well.  

“It smells good.” Tanjiro sniffed the air happily.

“I wish we had a rice pot.” Zenitsu sighed, “I like rabbit with rice.”

“But we have these nice mushrooms you found for us,” Nezuko said, “You even listened to them to make sure they weren’t poisonous.”

“What, they tell you they were safe themselves?” Genya scoffed. 

“No, poisonous mushrooms sound different from edible mushrooms.” Zenitsu shook his head. Genya blinked. 

“They… sound different?”

“Yeah.” Zenitsu shrugged as if it were normal.

Genya frowned. He could taste poison in wild foods, a skill that had saved his life more than once, but he’d never heard of anyone detecting poison by sound alone. 

Tanjiro keeps strange company… Genya thought. With Zenitsu’s ears, Kanao’s eyes, Nezuko’s demonic condition, and Inosuke’s whole… Inosuke-ness , it was a wonder that Tanjiro had made friends with someone as normal as Genya. 

Wait, I literally eat demons. Genya winced, remembering that he was far from normal himself. He looked around at the other faces around the campfire and smiled slightly. At least he wasn’t alone in his obscurity. 

Fat dripped from the rabbit in sparse drops, sparking and sizzling in the fire below. The skin of the mushrooms cracked as the insides cooked, the white inner flesh browning in the heat. Nezuko took the food off the spits and portioned it out, making sure everyone had an equal share. 

Genya didn’t eat much, again. The long journey had worn him out, but he wasn’t very hungry. He didn’t know what that meant, but he forced himself to eat a few mouthfuls of the stuff before giving his leftovers to Inosuke. The tastes mingled in his mouth, wild mellow mushroom and smoky meat making a perfectly satisfying combination. He washed it down with a swig of water from Tanjiro’s canteen, only thinking a little bit about how Tanjiro’s mouth had touched the same nozzle. He could detect that touch in taste alone, the mark Tanjiro had left in the liquid. Genya rolled the taste over his tongue, from one side of the mouth to the other. 

“It’s late,” Tanjiro said, looking up at the stars as the chatter wore down around the glowing embers. “We should rest. We’ll be moving all day again tomorrow.” 

“Alright, good night.” Nezuko yawned. 

She moved across the grass and collapsed onto her bedroll. Zenitsu followed suit soon after onto the bedroll placed next to hers, and Inosuke scampered after them into his nest in the grass where he circled around on all fours like a dog before curling into a ball. 

“Are you doing okay?” Tanjiro asked him as he poured water over the coals, which sizzled and fizzled out with a burst of smoke. 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Genya nodded. 

It was true. He had warm food, good company, and while he was exhausted, the journey had been taken in ease and his body could handle it. Even so, it had been more than eight hours since his first pills, so he should probably take more to help get through the night. 

“I’m glad.” Tanjiro smiled, then rose and took his bedroll from his pack, then spread it over the ground. “Where are you going to put your bedroll, Genya?”

“Oh, uh, I don’t have one.”

“You don’t have one?” Tanjiro stopped, looking up at him incredulously.

“I was just gonna sleep in the grass, it’s fine.”

“Not in your condition, you’re not.” 

Tanjiro’s face had screwed up like an insistent toddler, his shoulders tensed and his hands in fists by his sides. Genya suppressed a snicker.

“You’re my friend and you’re wounded, I’m not letting you sleep on the ground.”

“Well you’re hurt too.” Genya countered. “Besides, it’s your bedroll. I slept outside all the time on missions, I’ll be fine.”

Tanjiro stewed in frustration for a moment before lighting up with an idea. He knelt down before his spread bedroll, and opened it so that the top cover lay flat over the grass. He laid down on the newly-created side happily, patting the other side for Genya.

“There we go, look! Now we can both lay down.” 

Genya’s face paled.

“You really want to share a bed with me?” Genya asked, his voice slightly cracked.

“Why not? I don’t mind at all. Besides, it’ll be nice and warm.”

God and Buddha above, do you hate me or something? Genya thought, moving with stiff legs to sit awkwardly next to Tanjiro. 

The young man smiled up at him, then took off his green checkered haori and folded it into a long pillow-like shape for the both of them to share. 

“It’d be nice to have a blanket,” Tanjiro said, “But I think I prefer using it as a pillow. What do you think?” 

“I think it’d be a little small to fit both of us.” Genya said, trying not to imagine cuddling close to Tanjiro under his green haori. 

It fit Tanjiro well, of course, but it was a garment made for only one person. Even the thin pillow Tanjiro had folded it into was short, and would keep their heads close together through the night. Genya flushed, then had an idea. He sat up and cracked open his suitcase.

“We can use this instead.” Genya said, withdrawing a large garment easily the size of an emperor's silk duvet. The night made it too dark to see its true yellow color, but Tanjiro’s eyes widened regardless. 

“That’s Himejima-sama’s, isn’t it? Your master.”

“I got some of his things after he died.” Genya nodded, unfolding the garment and throwing over the pair of them. It settled like a large blanket, covering them quite nicely. 

“It still smells like him.” Tanjiro smiled, “A little like you too, probably because it was with your other things, but mostly like him. That’s good, I didn’t think I would smell his scent ever again. It’s like he’s still with us.”

“I’m glad.” Genya smiled as he settled down next to Tanjiro, but his master’s haori wasn’t the garment he smelled. 

No, that was Tanjiro’s haori, the cloth sturdy and soft as he buried his face in it. Every inhale brought more of Tanjiro into him, the scent of wood smoke and hard work and sun-warmed grass combined with something that was uniquely Tanjiro, akin to a sweet cinnamon-chai tea he had once tasted in a foreign restaurant way down in Kagoshima. It was warmth and sacred sunlight and all the life that came with it. 

“Sleep well, Genya.” Tanjiro said through a yawn.

“Mhmm. You too.”

Tanjiro smiled and closed his eyes. Soon enough his breathing steadied out, and his rhythmic respiration joined that of his friends and sister. Crickets chirped in the rustling grass, and the leaves and branches of the young beech trees around them swayed in the slight breeze.

Genya smiled and closed his eyes, dreaming of the young man next to him.

Chapter Text

Beech twigs brushed against each other, their stiff ribbed leaves adding a unique quality to the sound as the wind tossed the morning dew off the foliage. A dove cooed softly with the rising sun, and the clouds above looked puffy and delightful. A smell of fresh earth and warm cloth filled the air, with a hint of ash from last night’s coals. 

Genya blinked slowly into consciousness, then snapped to full alert immediately as he realized, he had turned onto his side in his sleep, facing Tanjiro. Even worse, his left arm was squarely wrapped under Tanjiro’s left shoulder and against his warm chest, his hand resting somewhere near the young man’s throat and being warmed by the Sun Pillar’s steady, oblivious breathing. Luckily Genya’s right arm had positioned itself between both their torsos to keep a slightly more respectable distance, but down below, Tanjiro’s ankle weighed on Genya’s right shin, their feet mingling together like shy wildflowers pushing up through the earth. 

Oh god oh god oh god, Genya thought in a repeated stream of panic as his body stiffened, What do I do, what the fuck do I do?

He steadied his racing mind, then took another look at the situation. Tanjiro was still sleeping, peaceful as ever, of this at least Genya had no doubt. There was no way he’d still be cuddled up to him like this otherwise. But if Genya moved even the slightest, he risked disturbing that peace. Then Tanjiro would wake, see Genya all over him like crusty clinging barnacles on the underside of a noble ship, and would never speak to him again, at best. 

Okay, one step at a time, He thought, focusing on what seemed easiest. Let’s take care of the legs first. Yeah, that should be easy enough. 

Slowly, carefully, with more focus than even his encounter with Upper Moon One, Genya steadily slid his right leg away. Tanjiro’s foot flopped heavy and without consequence onto the bedroll below. Genya sighed in relief, then cursed himself, praying his breath hadn’t warmed the back of Tanjiro’s neck too much. 

Next came the hand. Genya grit his teeth, not sure where to start, as it was trapped under Tanjiro’s arm and was sure to cause some kind of disturbance if he tried to remove it with even the slightest degree of carelessness. 

Fuck, that’s his bad arm too, Genya’s eyes widened as they settled on the injured, slightly withered limb, Is he okay? Am I hurting him like this?

He’d never be able to forgive himself if that was the case, but luckily enough, it didn’t seem to be. Tanjiro’s chest rose and fell with steady, even breathing, and his limp arm seemed completely at peace. Genya thanked his lucky stars, then set back to the task at hand.

Should I just do it all at once? He thought, his eyebrows twitching in desperate concentration, Rip the bandage off? Or do I-

He didn’t have time to deliberate, as with a heavy sigh and a squirm of the limbs, Tanjiro turned over, throwing his strong right arm over Genya’s midsection, still completely asleep.

Genya’s eyes nearly shot out of his head.

He’d frozen in terror as Tanjiro had moved, so the young man had just rolled along with the curve of Genya’s arm, meaning Genya’s arm was now around Tanjiro’s shoulders and his hand rested between the shoulder blades. Tanjiro’s steady, warm arm rested in the gap between Genya’s hips and his ribs, and seemed to pull him closer. 

The pressure around his middle dulled the pain in his split body, and his mouth quirked up in a relieved smile despite himself. Tanjiro inhaled and exhaled through his nose, the breath sweet and warm on Genya’s face. The sleeping Sun Pillar had also lifted his right knee as he’d turned over and now rested it over both of Genya’s legs, nearly straddling him. 

It felt very, very nice. But as much as Genya wanted to revel in this moment forever, to drink in this warmth and this space until it became inseparable from his very being, he couldn’t. For this was also very, very bad.

Oh my God I'm gonna throw up. Genya thought, his mind and stomach reeling with the rush of confusing emotions. Tanjiro was here , right in front of him, curled around him like gorgeous ivy on a dingey gravestone, something he’d done of his own accord. Surely, he wouldn’t mind if Genya lingered in his warmth for just a moment more…

NO, no, absolutely NOT, He thought, scooching his hips away from Tanjiro before the situation could become any more awkward with a solid backward jerk.

There. One problem solved. His stomach dropped as another rose in its place, as it seemed his sudden movement had disturbed his companion. Tanjiro’s eyebrows scrunched together, his mouth twitching and his lashes fluttering slightly as his eyes moved to alertness. 

His tan eyelids cracked open like the breaking dawn, and before Genya knew it, he was staring into those deep pink and crimson pools, unable to move, speak, or even think. 

“Good morning,” Tanjiro said with a yawn and a smile. His eyes widened a touch as he looked down and realized just how close they were to each other. Genya made a small, wounded grunt in response. 

“Oh, sorry,” Tanjiro said with a chuckle, rolling himself off of Genya and sitting up, bringing his left arm across his body in a big stretch. “I get a little cuddly in my sleep sometimes.” 

“...It’s fine.” Genya said, sure his face was still flaming red. He sat up quickly as Tanjiro rolled off of him, facing away as his heart rate returned to normal. 

“Wait, are you okay?” Tanjiro asked, voice dropping in concern. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No, you were fine. Don’t worry about me.” 

“If I don’t, who will?” Tanjiro laughed, his fist playfully bumping against Genya’s shoulder. “In any case, sorry again I woke you. Did you sleep well before that?”

Was that it? Was the incident over? Had it really passed between them as smoothly as a raft on the glass surface of an undisturbed lake? Genya could hardly believe it, but then again, this was Tanjiro. Someone could probably steal the shirt off his back and he would offer them his pants too, just in case it rained. 

Pushing thoughts of Tanjiro stripping aside, Genya sighed with a smile and turned to answer his question.

“It’s not an issue, really. I really don’t think I would’ve slept much longer anyway. It’s getting brighter by the minute. But, yeah. I slept well.”

It was true. Even though they were out in the elements and Tanjiro’s bedroll wasn’t very thick, it was still the best night’s rest he’d had since, well, he couldn’t remember. Something about Tanjiro just seemed to calm all his worries, and even though the events of the last five minutes had practically scared the life out of him, because it was Tanjiro, it had all worked out fine in the end. 

“Good morning, you two.”

Genya started as Nezuko’s voice called from the edge of the clearing. He looked up to see her staring down at them, her long dark hair slightly disheveled from sleep and her black haori hanging askew over her pink kimono. 

“Good morning Nezuko!” Tanjiro smiled, “Where were you off to this morning?”

“Had to piss.” She shrugged. Tanjiro’s jaw dropped. 

“Nezuko!” He scolded, though his lip curled up with laughter. “Don’t say it so crudely!”

“Sorry,” She whined, her shoulders drooping, “It’s just so annoying. I never had to do anything like that back when I was a demon. I forgot how tedious it could all be.”

That’s right, Genya recalled, Nezuko was a demon for a long time. She’s only been human again for a few months. This must all be a big adjustment for her as well.

Genya hadn’t really noticed that particular detail when he transformed, but his transformations didn’t typically last for more than a few hours. For a full-fledged demon like Nezuko, the trivialities of human upkeep must seem tiresome at best.

“Sure, but you were also asleep for two years,” Tanjiro countered.

“And I never wet the bed once!” Nezuko crossed her arms with an indignant huff. “It was great!”

Genya couldn’t suppress his snicker at that one. Tanjiro’s ears reddened, and he scolded Nezuko about being more respectable around their friends.

“It’s fine,” Nezuko waved, “Genya knows I pee. I’m human again, after all. On another note, it looks like you two had a good night.”

Her pink eyes stared into Genya’s with an unreadable expression. He stiffened as he realized, she had woken up before them. She had seen them share a bedroll, seen their proximity to one another, seen Genya’s arm draped over her brother in a position that couldn’t be considered anything but intimate. He swallowed hard, his throat stinging at the work. 

“Yeah, I slept great!” Tanjiro replied cheerily, “Himejima-san’s haori was really warm.”

A small smile flickered at the corners of Genya’s mouth. Tanjiro had had a good night next to him, kept warm by both Genya and his master. If a single night of good rest was all Genya could ever give him, well. He was just happy to be a positive force for once. 

Nezuko listened as her brother got his things in order and laid out their plans for the day, but her eyes lingered on Genya with that same expression. Genya shrank away, focusing on rolling up Gyomei’s yellow haori and stuffing it back in his suitcase. 

Zenitsu and Inosuke woke soon after, roused by the sounds of camp being cleared up and the smell of breakfast roasting over a fire. The little band ate leisurely, then set off at an easy pace at about ten in the morning. Much later than they ever would have allowed themselves as Corps members, but there was no need for that kind of urgency anymore. Genya thanked his lucky stars every day that there was no need for that kind of urgency anymore. 

“Hey, uh,” Zenitsu said, dropping back to where Genya plodded a few feet behind the others, and lowering his voice so Nezuko couldn’t hear him. “My leg is hurting again. Can I get some more painkillers?”

“Huh?” Genya looked up, “Oh, yeah, here.” 

He withdrew the bottle from his pocket and handed it to Zenitsu, who unscrewed the top easily and popped two into his mouth and washed it down with a swig of water from the gourd canteen Nezuko had lent him. Genya furrowed his brow. He seemed a completely different person than the one who had clawed the medicine from his hands yesterday. 

“Thank you.” Zenitsu said, screwing the lid back on and handing the container back to Genya. The Thunder Pillar’s eyes lingered on him for a while longer, tracing the long scar that went down the length of his face and body.

“You got torn up pretty bad, didn’t you?” 

“What, piece that together yourself?” Genya grit his teeth, not needing another reminder.

“Sorry, I just…” Zenitsu shook his head, then nodded to the pills still in Genya’s hands. “You should take some too. Your breathing sounds pretty labored right now. It’ll help.”

“...I already took some.” Genya turned his head away, hating to be given medical advice from the single whiniest person he’d ever met. “So lay off.”

Zenitsu stared at him for a long time, not breaking attention as they walked. 

“You care a lot, don’t you.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“That’s why you denied your Hashira rank when it was first offered. That’s why you came all the way out here with us. That’s why you punched me in the face for calling your brother crazy even when he was trying to kill you.”

Genya stiffened, his shoulders up to his ears. He’d forgotten about that. 

“...Sorry.” He said, a touch softer. “Family, you know. It’s a sensitive subject.”

“Heh, yeah.” Zenitsu said, his face as dark as a thundercloud for a moment, before clearing and looking back up to him again. 

“I know what it’s like to care a lot. What it’s like to care more than I should. It’s lonely, and it makes you feel like you have to impress everyone around you to make them keep you around.”

An uncomfortable feeling squirmed in Genya’s stomach. Zenitsu had hit the nail right on the head. 

“I just want to let you know, that’s not true. Not around us, and especially not around Tanjiro.”

His footsteps fumbled for half a second at the mention of Tanjiro’s name. If Zenitsu noticed, he didn’t let on, carrying the conversation in just above a whisper as the Kamado siblings chatted happily in front of them. 

“You don’t have to prove anything to us. We know we don’t know what you’re going through, the kind of pain you must be in. All of us are ready to help if you need it, just say the word.”

“I don’t want your fucking pity.” Genya snarled, a shard of his old anger returning.

“Pity?” Zenitsu raised a thick yellow eyebrow, “No, Genya, this is friendship. We’re your friends. All of us.”

Oh. Genya hadn’t considered that. The angry flower blooming in his chest withered away to something more akin to a confused carrot, rooting deep in his soul. 

Friends?

The fact that Tanjiro considered him a close friend was something he was eternally grateful for, even if it would all shatter the moment he discovered Genya’s little crush. He hadn’t thought that the others would think of him in the same kindness, but it appeared Tanjiro’s own friendliness was infectious. He doubted Inosuke and Zenitsu would even be friends in the first place if Tanjiro hadn’t been there to mediate. Maybe the same could be said of mixing Genya into the group. Maybe living with all the others at the Kamado’s mountain home would be different than Genya expected. 

…What exactly had Genya expected?

Work, for sure. Tanjiro had mentioned needing help with their old charcoal making business, and Genya was no stranger to work. He’d put his axe to the grindstone with the others and help earn his keep, no matter how much his body protested. Besides, making charcoal couldn’t be harder than slaying demons. Any way he looked at it, it was a serious upgrade from his previous profession. 

Socially, living with the Kamados and co., he wasn’t sure. He was reasonably sure Tanjiro would always be happy to see him, as he’d never been anything otherwise, but the rest of the group was a mystery. He was sure he’d butt heads again with Inosuke at some point, but the Beast Pillar seemed to have matured just a touch since the final battle. Genya had figured out how Tanjiro managed to corral him by feeding into his ego, maybe if Genya could keep his own temper in check in his dealings with the Beast Pillar and emulate that same communication with him somehow, they could have a peaceful-enough relationship.

He was pretty sure he wouldn’t like living with Zenitsu, but the young man’s sudden change in demeanor this morning had shown a new side of him, one that Genya didn’t really mind at all. He was protective and obsessive over Nezuko, that much was true enough, but Genya was absolutely no threat to him there, so as far as he could see there was no reason for them to ever fight unless there was some kind of misunderstanding. 

As for Nezuko herself…

Genya liked her well enough as a demon, and she was funny and bright as a human as well, so he’d thought nothing of getting along with her just as well as her brother. But this morning…

Anxiety welled in his stomach again. What did the Blood Pillar know? What did she suspect? 

What would she say to Tanjiro?

“We all care about each other.” Zenitsu said, picking up the conversation Genya had let idle. “We always will. We don’t really have anyone else, so… We’re like a family now.”

Zenitsu patted Genya’s shoulder before hastening his stride to catch up with the Kamado siblings again, tossing a smile over his shoulder. 

“You don’t have to worry so much.”

Befuddled, Genya smiled back. The expression only lasted an instant before a fresh wave of pain tore through his bones, deep into his very core. A shadow of the moon. As sharp and daunting as the crescent of unearthly glow in the night. 

Genya grit his teeth, and put one foot in front of the other. 

The rest of the day moved on in routine. Inosuke charged ahead with reckless abandon, moving through bushes and boulders and trees as easily as if the path was unobscured. Once, in the distance, Genya could have sworn he saw the young man standing on the back of a galloping deer and cackling madly as he rode it into the foliage, but they disappeared before Genya could make it out as truth. 

Zenitsu had a surprisingly pleasant voice when he wasn’t groveling or whining, and a good ear for music. He and Nezuko sung along to the shamisen he strummed as they walked, joined occasionally by Tanjiro when he knew the words. Genya smiled, letting Tanjiro’s voice fill his mind with warmth.

“I think I’m a little tone-deaf.” Tanjiro laughed as Zenitsu cringed away from the Sun Pillar’s attempt to hit one of the higher notes. 

“No, you’re fine, just maybe sing a little quieter.” Zenitsu lied through his teeth, strumming the instrument a little louder as he and Nezuko took up the next verse, effectively drowning Tanjiro out. 

“Haha, no need to spare my feelings.” Tanjiro shrugged happily, then continued humming along in tune. He paused, then looked over his shoulder at Genya with a quirk of invitation in his eyebrows. 

“Do you like to sing?” 

“Not really, I’m no good either.” Genya admitted. “Plus, my vocal cords got sliced up. It’s a miracle I can even speak.”

He laughed, the noise catching in his throat and making a strangled sort of wheeze. He sighed, then looked back up at Tanjiro, defeated.

“See?”

“Yeah, I get that.” Tanjiro’s eyes softened a touch, putting a hand to his own neck. “I yelled a lot while fighting Muzan. My throat’s been kinda sore ever since. I think I tore something up there.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Genya shrugged, then lightly bumped up against Tanjiro with his shoulder. “Don’t listen to Zenitsu though. I think you sound nice.” 

Tanjiro looked up at him, eyes wide. A soft, surprised breath escaped his mouth. 

Genya nearly choked as his own eyes flared. He’d said the words without thinking. He’d embarrassed himself again. He’d done something wrong, again . 

“Er-! What I mean is,” Genya stammered, then cursed under his breath. “You don’t have to worry about sounding bad, because you don’t.”

There. Fixed. Sort of. Genya’s eyes moved in a panic from Tanjiro’s face to his hands on the straps of his pack, then over to the woods, and back to his face again. Tanjiro looked confused. 

Shit. His fumbling attempt at a cover had only made it worse. 

Tanjiro’s confusion only remained for a second, before he brightened again. 

“Thanks! If you like it, I’ll be sure to sing more for you.” 

He marched forward, carrying the melody happily behind Zenitsu and Nezuko, noticeably louder than before. Zenitsu’s shoulders hunched up to his ears and Nezuko laughed, causing Tanjiro to ham it up even more. Genya’s jaw slackened.

How can one person be so… so pure? Genya thought, even as bubbles of warmth rose up into his chest at Tanjiro’s song. What the fuck is wrong with him? And what the fuck is wrong with me, that I love him so much?

He stopped, staring dead ahead at the dirt trail before him as he realized what he’d just admitted to himself. This wasn’t just some mote of infatuation or a twisted kind of admiration, and was far beyond just an ordinary crush. Everything he’d fought to suppress until now bubbled up to the surface, rearing its ugly head above the mire of Genya’s subconscious. 

Love. 

He was in love with Tanjiro Kamado.

That would be the simple answer here, wouldn’t it? And yet, it immediately made the rest of the world so much more complicated. Even if it was true, (which Genya still fervently hoped it wasn’t,) it was the doomed and hopeless kind of love, the one that could never be. 

His stomach churned. Cold sweat broke out along his neck. His heart, still recovering from being slashed in half, hammered in his chest. 

He wished he could talk to someone about this. He wished this was something he could talk about. 

Gyomei might’ve understood. He’d been very understanding of Genya’s demonic transformations and unorthodox nichirin weapons, claiming that any weapon that helped them fight the enemy was a good one. He’d been understanding of his situation with Sanemi, and understanding of his feelings of inadequacy that he couldn’t use breathing techniques. Gyomei couldn’t see with his eyes of course, but he could still see into people’s hearts. Even if he didn’t approve of his feelings for Tanjiro, Genya was sure Himejima would be able to see how much it was tearing him up inside and would want to help however he could. 

Maybe Dr. Kochou would have been able to help too. He didn’t know whether she would even care one way or the other about his attraction, but maybe she’d have a pill or a shot or something that could turn him normal again, make him see Tanjiro as nothing more than a trusted companion and friend rather than this newfound curse. 

He was sure Mitsuri would’ve been understanding. The Love Pillar had loved love in all of its forms, and was secretly always attracted to a scandal, as any kind of romance with Tanjiro was bound to be. He could maybe have counted on her for a kind of emotional support, but maybe it wouldn’t be wise to trust her with that information, as she might try and set him and Tanjiro up in some cutesy way that was bound to fail miserably. 

It would have been nice to talk to Mitsuri. It would have been nice to talk to Dr. Kochou. It would have been especially nice to talk to Gyomei again, one last time. 

But I can’t. Genya thought, his head swimming as he swayed. They’re all gone.

“Genya?” Tanjiro called, halting in his humming to turn back to the Moon Pillar. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” Genya croaked, clutching the maple walking stick in tight hands and rising back to shaky feet. He hadn’t realized he’d nearly crumpled to the ground. “Just a little dizzy, I’m fine.” 

“Here, let me help you.” Tanjiro said, and the man Genya was in love with looped his sturdy right arm underneath Genya’s left shoulder. Even though Genya was nearly a head taller than the young man, even though Tanjiro himself was severely wounded, he brought Genya to his feet as strongly and surely as Gyomei Himejima ever had. 

“Thanks…” Genya grumbled as his face burned, looking away from Tanjiro.

“Do you need a break?” Tanjiro asked, peeking his head around into Genya’s line of vision like an eager dog and prompting Genya to do an awkward half-spin to hide his face once more. “We can sit down for a while.”

“No, I’m fine, really.” Genya insisted, “I don’t want to slow us down anymore.”

Tanjiro’s face screwed up as he puffed one cheek, seemingly deliberating with himself, before a new shrewd light came into his eyes. 

“Well, I’m a little tired.” He announced to the group. “Would you all mind if we stopped to rest for a minute?”

“Fine by me.” Zenitsu said, moving off the trail and gingerly sitting down on his bad leg in the grass.

“Me too.” Nezuko smiled, then frowned as she scanned their surroundings, and took a deep breath before shouting into the woods. 

“Inosuke! We’re stopping!”
Inosuke’s boar mask rustled up from the treetops about two hundred feet away. He scurried down the trunk face-first like some kind of mutated squirrel and hustled over as Nezuko set her pack down on the ground and Tanjiro sat down next to her. Genya blinked in irritation at Tanjiro’s ploy to get him to take a rest, but there was nothing he could do about it now, so he sighed and sat down among them. 

Inosuke skidded to a halt on all fours in front of them, then shuffled forward on his knees as his hands reached up to the boar mask. He took it off, revealing messy hair and a huge grin on his face. 

“Fear not, my loyal underlings! The Great Lord Inosuke provides!”
He dumped the boar mask upside-down. A cascade of hard-shelled walnuts spilled out from it, pooling on the grass and clattering off each other.

“Wow, thank you Inosuke, that’s so kind!” Tanjiro smiled. 

“How did all those even fit up there?” Zenitsu exclaimed, looking between the bounty on the grass and the desiccated pig head.

“How are we gonna open them?” Nezuko frowned, trying and failing to slide a sharp fingernail in between the seam of the walnut shell.

“Easy.” Inosuke grinned, “Watch.”

Genya frowned, an uneasy feeling at the boar-headed young man’s confidence. That unease proved to be well-earned, as Inosuke grabbed a walnut in a tight fist and smashed it hard against Tanjiro’s unsuspecting forehead. Tanjiro blinked in surprise but seemed no worse for wear, then laughed as Inosuke opened his hand. The walnut shell had split in two, revealing the wrinkly meat in the middle. The Beast Pillar plucked the meat from the shell and crunched it down with a wide grin and open mouth, reaching for more nuts to bash against Tanjiro’s head. 

“Are you really okay with this?” Genya asked as Nezuko and even Zenitsu followed suit, gathering up the walnuts from the grass and laughing as Inosuke broke them open in his new unique way. “I mean, I know you’ve got a tough head, but still. That’s gotta hurt.”

“Not really,” Tanjiro laughed wearily, batting shell debris from his eyelashes and then screwing up his face to brace himself as Inosuke broke another nut. “It stings a little, but it’s fine. Besides, I’m happy to help.” 

He said it with a smile. A genuine smile that meant every word. Genya’s heart turned in on itself. 

“Do you want to try?” Tanjiro asked, turning bright eyes on him even as the skin of his forehead began to scrape. “I don’t mind at all.” 

Slowly, Genya picked up a walnut from the grass. It weighed heavy in his hand, wobbling slightly from side to side with the motion. He closed his fingers around it, then brought it to his mouth. 

Tanjiro’s eyes widened slightly as Genya’s strong canines crunched into the shell, splitting it clean in half. He took it from his mouth and opened the shell, then presented the meat of the nut to Tanjiro. 

“Here.” Genya muttered, looking down as he extended his hand. “You shouldn’t have to do it all. I’ll open as many of these as you want for you.”

Through the corner of his eye, he watched as Tanjiro’s eyes widened, then softened into something beautiful. The Sun Pillar’s warm hand closed in over his like the last shred of golden light at dusk, something precious and worth protecting. The weight of every finger. The curve of every rough callous. The heat of valiant blood pumping through every vein. 

The gentle caress of his fingertips against Genya’s palm as Tanjiro took the offered walnut sent shivers down his spine and butterflies dancing through his head. He chanced a glance upward. Tanjiro stared at the walnut in his hand with a kind of reverence, basking in something only he could know. 

“Thank you.” Tanjiro smiled, holding it to his chest for a moment. “I really appreciate it.” 

He put the nut in his mouth and smiled, as if savoring every slight variation in taste. Genya frowned. It was only a walnut. Did it really mean so much to Tanjiro? It appeared that way. The realization sent a new wave of dizziness into Genya’s lovestruck head.

Be careful, dumbass. He chided himself. It doesn’t mean that. It doesn’t mean anything. Tanjiro is just really gracious and appreciative, that’s all. 

The others chatted away, occasionally smacking a walnut open on Tanjiro’s hard forehead as they idled away the time. Genya crunched open many more for Tanjiro, who took them warmly and happily enough, (though not as much as the first one, Genya noted with a bit of chagrin,) and insisted that Genya eat some too. 

“I’m bored,” Inosuke groaned after all of fifteen minutes, “Can we go already?” 

“How’s everyone doing?” Tanjiro asked the group, though he looked straight at Genya. Genya looked down as his cheeks pinked, embarrassed. Tanjiro had only stopped on his account, after all. 

“I’m fine.” Nezuko chirped happily.

“Me too, that was nice.” Zenitsu said. 

Genya met Tanjiro’s eye for a second. He gave a tiny, almost imperceptible nod. Tanjiro’s smile deepened a touch. 

“Alright then,” He rose to his feet, dusted his hands, then slung his pack back over his shoulder. “Let’s be off.” 

They strode on for the rest of the day, stopping to rest at another campsite Inosuke picked out, this one of the soft grass in the shade of a large gray boulder by a stream. A few young birch trees sprouted from the riverbank, their white trunks and black accents looking like eyes watching from every direction. 

Just like Kokushibo… Genya thought, remembering that horrible, eyeball-studded katana, those six eyes staring at him with all the passionless fervor of a yellow harvest moon. A slice, a separation, an adjourning of flesh from flesh…

“Are you okay?” Tanjiro asked, coming up next to him as the others bickered over the best spots to set up their bedding and the campfire.

“Yeah.” Genya blinked, turning away, “Why?”

“It’s just, for a moment…” Tanjiro paused as if not sure how to continue. “It smelled like you were afraid.”

“I’m okay, really.” Genya gave a weary, fake smile. “Just tired.”

“Alright,” Tanjiro nodded, “I’ll get our bedroll set up. You can rest while we make dinner.”

Genya balked, struck dumb at how quickly Tanjiro’s bedroll had become ‘ their ’ bedroll. It wasn’t fair to him, not with Genya’s shameful secret. And even though Tanjiro had brushed it off as easily as summer rain, he could not risk a repeat of the previous night.

“I’m not gonna sit back while you all do all the work,” Genya sniffed, indignant. “And… I’m just gonna sleep in the grass tonight. Don’t worry about me.”

“Oh… are you sure?”

Genya frowned. Tanjiro almost sounded, what, disappointed? No, it couldn’t be. He was probably just wanting to extend more generosity as always, and felt that Genya needed some extra generosity. 

Genya’s heart cracked. He wished he could take Tanjiro up on his offer, more than anything, but no. It was far too risky. 

“I don’t mind at all, really.” Tanjiro pressed on. “Besides, won’t you be cold?”

“I’ve got Himejima’s haori. I’ll be alright.” Genya shrugged, then internally cringed, knowing he should have just used the tent-like garment from the beginning the previous night, it would’ve saved him a lot of anxiety. 

“Well, if you’re sure…” Tanjiro frowned, then shrugged. “Let’s set up over there.”

He pointed to a sunny spot of soft grass near some bushes on the other side of the firepit Inosuke was building, while Zenitsu and Nezuko set up their bedrolls closer to the stream under the shade of the tall birch trees. 

Genya grit his teeth as they rolled out their bedding over the grass, unsure of how to feel. Once again, he would be sleeping close to Tanjiro. Not so close that it would be improper like this morning, no, he’d be keeping a respectable distance, but still. Tanjiro had set up his bedroll only about a foot away from where Genya had rolled out Himejima’s haori. This would be torture anyway. 

Nezuko caught fish from the stream, and Zenitsu once again identified non-poisonous mushrooms from their sound. Inosuke rustled up some of the greenery he used to munch on all the time back when he lived on the mountains. Most of the others found it tremendously bitter, much to Inosuke’s bragging satisfaction, but Genya noted a pleasant earthy sweetness under the acrid tannin of the dark green leaves, and he chewed without complaint.

I’ve eaten MUCH worse, Genya thought, pulling a face as he remembered some particularly unpleasant demon flesh he’d had to consume in the heat of various battles. 

“No fair!” Inosuke beat at Genya’s shoulders as his bitter vegetation failed to provoke a disgusted reaction. “Everyone but me is too soft to eat this stuff, you’re supposed to spit it out and I’m supposed to win!”

A flare of annoyance rose within Genya as it always did whenever the pigheaded young man directed his antics at him, but he calmed himself. Tanjiro had demonstrated how to handle Inosuke well enough. He took a breath. He could do this. 

“It must be because you’re such a good teacher.” Genya said in only a slightly choked voice as every cell in his body yearned to punch the blue-haired young man right in his weirdly gorgeous face. “You showed me how it’s done.”

Inosuke blinked, taken aback for a moment, before his face split into a wide grin. 

“Damn right I did! Wait here! I’m gonna get some of the really strong stuff, but don’t worry! I’ll show you how to eat it right!”

He disappeared into the bushes with a mad cackle. Genya turned, slightly startled to see the others staring at him with amused expressions. 

“You figured him out quick, huh?” Nezuko laughed.

“Oh please, there’s not much to figure out.” Zenitsu rolled his eyes.

“Hey, be nice,” Tanjiro chided, then smiled at Genya. “But yeah, I’m glad you’re learning how to get along with him. I hope you two can become good friends.”

“We’ll see…” Genya said with an exaggerated roll of his eyes, though secretly felt proud of himself for successfully navigating the interaction. 

Zenitsu continued strumming sweet, slow songs on the shamisen as the fire flickered its soft yellow glow against the wide gray boulder and rippled over the surface of the dark stream. Tanjiro and Nezuko pointed out fireflies and songbirds in the meadow beyond the treeline, and Inosuke came back every half-hour or so with a new bit of plant for Genya to try. Bitter roots and tough, fibrous stems and pungent flowers that left clouds of dry pollen over his tongue. Genya ate each one dutifully, and with a bit of smugness as he refused to show even a smidge of discomfort on his face, no matter how bad it tasted. It was all worth it to see the fire glow on Tanjiro’s face as he stared at Genya with wide eyes and a broad smile, in awe of his iron stomach and unshakeable tastebuds.

“Alright, my pupil,” Inosuke said with a devilish grin, presenting a brown mushroom. “Try this one.”

Genya shrugged and popped it in his mouth. It tasted like any other mushroom, meaty, woodsy, and vaguely wet. He frowned. A new taste was beginning to surface, one that he hadn’t tasted in a while. 

“ It’s poison! ” Tanjiro and Zenitsu exclaimed at the same time Genya identified it, no doubt perceiving it with their own extraordinary senses. Genya spat out the mushroom and scraped his tongue against his sleeve, scrubbing the substance from his mouth. 

“It’ll kill you! Spit it out, spit it out!” Zenitsu said, too preoccupied in slapping Genya on the back to get him to spit it out that he didn’t notice he’d already done so.

“What the hell, Inosuke, you can’t feed people poison!” Nezuko chided.

“Are you okay?” Tanjiro asked, leaning over to make sure Genya wasn’t convulsing or throwing up blood or anything. Genya gave him a weak hand wave, showing he was okay, he hadn’t ingested any.

“I don’t see what the big deal is,” Inosuke said with a disinterested sneer as he crouched in a deep squat, one finger in his ear scratching at what was probably a nest of centipedes that lived in his thick skull. “I eat those all the time and I’m fine.” 

“Well, you’re immune to poison.” Tanjiro said gently as he passed his canteen to Genya, “Genya isn’t.”

Genya took a swig of water from the canteen, once again trying and failing not to think about how Tanjiro’s lips had touched that same nozzle. He swished it around his mouth and spat it into the grass.

“Tch, not yet, ” Inosuke rolled his eyes, “That’s why I only gave him a little, so he could start becoming immune.” 

“Even so, you shouldn’t do those things without asking.” Nezuko shook her head.

“Who doesn’t want to be immune to poison?!” Inosuke threw his arms out, frustrated.

Genya stood, rising to his full height. He wiped his sleeve across his mouth and turned to face the Beast Pillar, a vein throbbing in his forehead. Zenitsu’s shoulders went to his ears and he looked away. Tanjiro and Nezuko exchanged a flicker of uneasy eye contact before looking back at the scene, ready to spring into action. Even Inosuke shrank back a little, but still stared up at Genya with his jaw stuck out. 

To everyone’s surprise, including his own, Genya threw back his head and laughed. Zenitsu eased up and smiled. The Kamado siblings relaxed, and Inosuke’s grin returned.

“You really are a fucking freak, you know that?” Genya laughed, lightly punching Inosuke’s shoulder. 

“Says you, demon man.” Inosuke bared a feral smile, light glinting in his green eyes as he not-so-lightly punched Genya’s shoulder back. 

“You’re right, it would be pretty cool to be immune to poison.” Genya nodded. “There’d be a lot of new things I could taste without having to worry. I’d love it if you would teach me how, but give me a little warning at least, will you?” 

“Ugh, fine,” Inosuke groaned, then turned a triumphant eye on the others. “You hear that? Gebby here and I are gonna be way stronger than the rest of you!”

“That’s great Inosuke, I’m really happy for you!” Tanjiro laughed, relieved.

“Gebby?” Nezuko snickered at the butchering of Genya’s name.

“Don’t bother,” Zenitsu sighed, “It’s a losing battle.”

They wore down for the night. Tanjiro doused the fire after Nezuko and Zenitsu had settled into their bedrolls and Inosuke rolled up in a nest of grass between them, then turned back to Genya. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to share the bedroll again? Really, I don’t mind.”

Genya had pretty good night vision even when he wasn’t transformed, but he could still barely make out anything of Tanjiro other than his eyes. Beyond him, the pale birch trunks stood tall and unfeeling, their characteristic eye-shaped bark staring out unseeing in all directions. Genya swallowed hard. 

“No, I’m okay, really. You’re too kind, Tanjiro. You’ve really got to learn how to keep some things for yourself. The last thing I want to do…”

He bit his cheek, then turned around, away from Tanjiro.

“The last thing I want is to take advantage of you.”

He sat down on Gyomei’s weathered yellow haori, bundling it around himself before sinking into the ground. In the darkness over his shoulder, a slight sound of movement came as if Tanjiro was opening his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. Genya felt those red and cracked pink irises on the back of his head linger for a moment, before rustling came from Tanjiro’s direction as the Sun Pillar slid into his own bedroll. 

“Good night, Genya.”

“Good night, Tanjiro.”

Chapter Text

///TRIGGER WARNING SOME INTENSE STUFF COMING UP///

Feet pounded against the ground. Running, faster and faster still, faster than Genya had ever known he could run. His eyes deepened to black and yellow slits across his transformed face, his hair flying in the wind and his fingers curled into sharp talons as he shot like a bullet onto the rooftops of the surrounding buildings, scanning in all directions.

“Help!” Someone screamed from down below, then screamed again with a slash of wet blood. “No! Stay back!”

Genya’s heart pounded as a taste of iron rose into the wind. 

Tanjiro. He was sure. 

His gun weighed heavy on his left hip and his katana sat securely on his right. He drew both in the same instant, leaping over a rooftop and onto the ground below just as the demon lunged for Tanjiro’s retreating figure once more. Genya shot three rounds into the back of the creature, then sliced his katana straight through its neck for good measure. 

He paused, panting, then looked over at Tanjiro. The young man held a hand dripping with blood over the right side of his face, and his scarlet right eye under his maroon flame-shaped scar pulsed with terror as he stared at Genya. He clawed at the wall behind him, desperate to keep moving, but trapped against the plaster.

“Tanjiro!” Genya shouted, casting his weapons aside and moving towards him. “What happened? Are you okay?”

Tanjiro whimpered, fearful as he shrank back against the building and panting as his eye brimmed with tears. 

“...Tanjiro?” Genya asked, his voice much softer this time. “Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay. I’m here.” 

Tanjiro shook his head slowly, not taking his gaze off Genya for an instant. Horror laced his vision, and his legs tried to push him backward, but they only slid him uselessly against the wall he was cornered against.

“How could you.” Tanjiro breathed, his voice ragged and little more than a whisper. 

He removed his bloody hand from the right side of his face.

Three deep gashes clawed straight through the flesh from the forehead all the way down to the chin, where skin hung in flayed, ruined ribbons. The gore of his ruined right eyeball dripped down onto his checkered haori, the shine of half a mauled scarlet iris still catching the light. 

Genya’s breath caught in his throat as his vision pulsed. 

Slowly, he turned around to the demon disintegrating into the air behind him. 

Genya’s own decapitated head stared back at him, long fangs bared in a vicious, unearthly snarl. Mohawk curled with sharp yellow points. Black eyes, soulless and haunting, rolled about in their sockets. Thick saliva dripped from the open mouth as the tongue continued to halfheartedly lash about for a taste of blood. 

That same blood laced the tips of the creature’s twitching fingers, about four feet behind the head as the body bled out and disintegrated on the stone street. 

“Tanjiro…” Genya gasped, his voice shaky. “Tanjiro, please, it wasn’t me, it wasn’t-”

“I trusted you.” Tanjiro said. 

The words hit Genya like a knife to the chest, one that continued to twist. 

“We all trusted you.” Tanjiro continued as a silver trail of tears streaked down from his left eye, mingling with the blood that dripped from his chin.

Images flashed across his mind. Zenitsu, Nezuko, Inosuke, lying in pools of their own blood and ripped limb from limb, faces marred into near-indistinguishable shapes as marks of sharp fangs lined the ruined flesh. 

The taste of blood rose from his throat. His eyes widened as it spilled from his lips, viscous and red. A slick warmth coated around his palms and fingers as blood covered his hands. His veins chilled, and oily guilt poured into his lungs and stomach. 

He’d killed them. He’d killed them all. His claws had torn their throats. His mouth had chewed their flesh. His tongue had lapped up their blood like a sick and starving dog.

“No, please, I-” Genya gasped, then coughed, spattering blood over the plaster walls and gray cobblestones. “Please, I didn’t mean to, you have to believe me.”

Tanjiro rose, his remaining eye hardening to a look Genya had only ever seen him reserve for the vilest of demon scum. 

“There’s no one left to believe you.”

Tanjiro turned on his heel and ran into the dark streets beyond, leaving Genya in stunned silence. He stared at the darkness where he’d disappeared, heart hammering and head swimming with shame and sorrow. 

A murderer. A cannibal. A traitor and a monster. 

Alone. 

He looked at his gun, there on the cobblestones behind him. 

If I really am a monster, I suppose there’s only one thing I can do now. Genya thought, a numb and trembling hand reaching out to the wooden handle of his firearm. 

His shoulders shook. His watering eyes overflowed and dripped over his purple yukata. He checked the final round of ammunition in the chamber, put the barrel to his temple, and squeezed the trigger. 

_____

“Genya!” Tanjiro was saying, his hands on Genya’s shoulders and shaking him back to reality as he woke with a start back at their campsite under the birch trees and wide boulder. The clear blue sky shone behind his auburn hair, driving away the darkness of Genya’s dreams.

“I’m here! It’s okay, I’m right here!” Tanjiro continued, an urgent expression lining his eyes and echoing in the sincerity of his words.

“Huh, wha-?” Genya blinked, startled to find his eyes and face wet with real tears. He blinked again, then looked up. Tanjiro’s face softened from concern to relief as he met his gaze, his ruby and cracked pink irises both whole and intact, the skin of his face unbroken. 

A sick, guilty feeling crawled up Genya’s guts. He wiped his eyes and looked away.

It’s okay, Genya thought, his breathing evening out and his heartbeat returning to normal, even though he couldn’t bring himself to look at any of the others. It wasn’t real. You didn’t kill them. You didn’t hurt anyone.  

“...What happened?” he asked after a moment.

“You were having a nightmare.” Zenitsu said.

“And crying.” Inosuke laughed gruffly. “Like a baby.”

“And yelling Tanjiro’s name a lot.” Nezuko said, a slight furrow to her brow. Genya’s face burned. Nezuko already had the wrong idea, this would surely only make it worse.

“Give him some space, everyone.” Tanjiro said with a raised palm to the others, who complied only half-heartedly, keeping an ear out for the drama. Tanjiro turned back down to Genya with a soft, concerned smile.

For an instant, the images of their shattered, ruined dead bodies filled his mind again. Genya's molars ground together, his hands bunching in and out of anxious fists.

“I know it was probably personal and intense, and you don’t have to tell me,” Tanjiro started, though a soft heat came into his face. “But, yeah, you were yelling my name. Can I ask why?”

“...I can’t remember.” Genya lied, turning his head away. “It doesn’t matter anyway, it was only a dream.”

“...Right. Just a dream.” Tanjiro echoed a moment later, though a look in his eye told Genya the Sun Pillar didn’t quite believe him. 

“Uh. Well, how’d you sleep?” Genya asked, desperate to change the subject.

“Fine.” Tanjiro shrugged, “Kind of cold. It’ll be nice to get back to the house today. You’ll like it, Genya. It’s nice and cosy and the stove keeps the entire house warm even in winter.”

Genya nodded at that. 

He’d never enjoyed the cold. Their mother could never afford much fuel to heat or light their little apartment when the days grew short in winter, so he and his siblings had spent many nights of the chiller months with shivering bodies and chattering teeth in their cramped room. 

“Can anyone get to sleep?” Sanemi had asked quietly in the early hours of a particularly bitter morning.

“N-no,” Their younger sister Teiko had said, “It’s too cold.”  

Genya had nodded in agreement, his hands over his ears to keep them from freezing.

“I thought so.” Sanemi said, and something in the way he had said it put Genya’s mind at ease. Sanemi had a plan, a scheme, a clever trick to include them all in. “Listen. We’ve all got a little heat, don’t we? I think it’ll be a lot warmer if we all share. Come on, Shuya, Hiroshi, let’s all move our futons closer together.”

They moved as one, seven little bodies with bare feet stinging on the icy wood floor, pushing their sleeping mats into a large group. Sanemi shuffled them all onto the bed, making sure Sumi had a good hold of Koto, the youngest, before throwing the meager bedding over all of them. Teiko and Shuya laughed as fabric draped over them, while Hiroshi and Genya play-wrestled over a bigger share of the blanket. Mutterings of ‘scoot over’ and ‘your feet are cold’ buzzed through the collective group as they settled down, but soon enough the slight heat of their individual bodies collected and compounded into something close to real warmth. 

“Better now, huh?” Sanemi had asked, smiling as six little affirmatives rang up from around him.

They had slept soundly that night, safe and warm and together. 

Genya blinked away the haze of nostalgia, focusing back on the present. It was good to hear Tanjiro’s home wouldn’t have the same issues that the Shinazugawa family had faced. It would be awkward to have to engage in a similar bedding practice now as young adults to ward off the cold. 

“Yeah.” he said, finally answering Tanjiro. “That does sound nice.”  

They ate a quick breakfast of stream fish and more roughage Inosuke scavenged up after complaining about how hungry he was, then set out for the day. Genya had never been one to complain about anything, least of all food, but still. He was growing weary of the same meager tastes day in and day out. He longed for something more substantial and seasoned, like spicy udon with beef cuts and broccoli seared in sesame oil and simmered with onion and pickled ginger. His split tongue began salivating.

The Kamado’s don’t have much money apparently, even though they’re both Hashira now, Genya thought, reminding himself of the fact Nezuko had shared with him. I’ll have to be sure to buy good food for everyone once my money comes in. 

He didn’t really know what to expect in that regard. The Ubuyashiki family had promised they would continue to pay the Hashira what they had rightfully earned, but he didn’t know exactly how much that would be. Sanemi was loaded, he knew, all the Hashira were, but that was about all he knew about Hashira finances. Gyomei had only used as much as he needed for his plot of mountain land and monthly food supply, using the vast majority of his considerable earnings to quietly fund orphanages and monasteries all across the local towns under his mountain. He’d had Genya deliver several of those funds personally, as even though Genya was a brutish presence he was still much less intimidating than Gyomei Himejima had ever been, and Gyomei didn’t want to frighten any children. Gyomei had never talked much about money though, encouraging Genya instead to focus on his form as he built up his strength and marksmanship. 

The ojuzu beads dangling out from his pocket clinked together. Genya smiled ruefully, the pain at losing his master still raw, but not stinging quite as bad as it had when the news was fresh. 

“Why are you going so slow?” Inosuke pouted from behind him, prodding Genya rather painfully in the middle of his back, right along his scar. "I'm hungry, the sooner we get back, the sooner we can eat."

“He’s hurt, jackass, lay off!” Zenitsu hissed, swatting at Inosuke as Genya grit his teeth and gripped the handle of his maple walking stick a bit harder, pain radiating from the spot in his back Inosuke had poked into. He wouldn’t be surprised if it started bleeding. 

“No, that can’t be it.” Inosuke frowned. He looked Genya up and down, then brightened, eyes settling on the suitcase in his left hand. “Aha, I see! You’re being weighed down! Fear not my loyal pupil, the Great Lord Inosuke is strong enough for both of us!”

“Wait, Inosuke, don’t-” Genya tried, lifting the briefcase higher, but it was no use. Inosuke jumped and snatched it from his grasp, then tucked it under his arm and took off running down the dirt road with a frenzied cackle. 

“Shit.” Genya paled. 

“What’s the matter?” Nezuko asked.

“That suitcase of yours did look heavy,” Tanjiro tried, attempting to put a positive spin on it, “Are you sure you don’t want him to carry it? It looks like he doesn’t mind at all.”

“No, it’s not that, it’s just,” Genya shook his head, “My gun’s in there.”

Tanjiro, Zenitsu, and Nezuko’s eyes all widened as one, filled with thoughts of what fresh hell Inosuke could unleash with a gun. 

Genya himself thought only of his dream, of the barrel pointed toward his head and the click of the trigger as the powder lit. Maybe it would be good to have the gun away from him for a while, but still. In Inosuke's hands, there was no telling what could happen.

“ Inosuke come back!!! ” Tanjiro and Nezuko shouted at the same time, while with a crack of thunder and streak of electric yellow, Zenitsu shot after him.

“He’ll be fine,” Tanjiro laughed nervously. “It’s not loaded, right?”

“No, but I’ve still got plenty of bullets in there.” Genya cringed.

“You don’t think he knows how to load it, do you?” Nezuko asked, somehow growing a shade paler than her already near-unnatural paleness.

Zenitsu appeared again with Genya’s suitcase about a minute later, pulling to a stop in front of him and the Kamados.

“Here,” He panted, holding the briefcase up with his right hand and bracing himself on his knee with his left as he stood doubled-over to catch his breath, “Lets… Hide that when we get back home.”

Genya nodded in wholehearted agreement, gripping the handle tight in his left hand again keeping his body between it and Inosuke when he grumpily returned from the undergrowth.

Soon enough, the meadows and forests turned to rice paddies and fields. A mountain rose up in the north, with a little town at its base in the distance. 

“That’s our mountain!” Nezuko exclaimed happily, “Mount Kumotori. We Kamados have been making charcoal up there for hundreds of years. That's Okutama there at the bottom, where we'd sell it all.”

“Over there is a cave where Nezuko and I hid from the sun when she was first turned into a demon.” Tanjiro said, pointing to a cliffside some distance to the left. “I bought a big basket from a farmer around here and carried her in it to Urokodaki-Sama’s house all the way on Mount Sagiri.”

Genya’s eyes widened. He’d heard bits and pieces of the Kamado’s backstory before, but having it all laid out before him, seeing the places where these events happened…

“Right after Nezuko became a demon…” Genya began slowly, “So, you did all this right after your family was killed…”

Tanjiro’s shoulders slumped a little. Nezuko bit her lip and looked to the ground. Genya winced, cursing himself for being so blunt.

“I just mean,” He said hurriedly, “That all sounds hard. Impossible, even. You two are very strong. I don’t think I could have done that.” 

“We’ve all done hard things.” Tanjiro’s eyes softened as he smiled in his direction. “After all, you came back from the dead, didn’t you?”

“So did you,” Nezuko nudged Tanjiro pointedly. 

“So did I!” Inosuke exclaimed proudly, “When the mantis man stabbed me!”

“Ugh, I forgot about Gyutaro.” Zenitsu pulled a face. “What a nightmare.”

They continued on, swapping war stories like retired veterans and feeling their hearts lighten as the promise of home drew ever nearer. 

Home… Genya thought, looking up at Mount Kumotori as it rose above the town. He hadn’t had a real home in quite some time. 

Maybe, just maybe, he could find a home here with Tanjiro after all.

It’s just a visit, dumbass, remember. Genya shook his head. You’re just visiting. Don’t get comfortable. 

They walked through the streets of Okutama and towards the mountain, occasionally stopping to purchase groceries here and there or exchanging pleasantries with the townsfolk. Genya shrank back as he collected some curious stares at first, but after seeing that he was part of Tanjiro’s already eccentric party, they shrugged and went about their way as well. 

Still, he stared in awe as people talked with Tanjiro about the weather and the upcoming rice crop and every manner of mundane thing as though he wasn’t the Tanjiro Kamado, the one who had defeated Muzan for good and saved humanity from the scourge of all demonkind. 

Well, maybe not “all” demonkind… Genya thought as Tanjiro chatted happily with some of his neighbors in the street, thinking of himself, Yushiro, and Chachamaru. But still. They have no idea who he is.

“Say, Tanjiro,” An older woman in a brown kimono and pink silk belt asked, “When do you think you’ll have the charcoal business up and running again? It’s been awfully cold these past few winters without you!”

“Hmm…” Tanjiro frowned, a hand on his chin as he looked up in speculation. “Give us a week. We’ll work hard to make sure you all have plenty of fuel.”

“You still use charcoal?” A younger man in dull blue and yellow clothes asked, leaning against the side of a building. “That explains why you were cold, just get your house hooked up to the electric power lines like everyone else. I’ve got a cousin in Tokyo, she says every house is connected. It’s the new standard.”

“Bah, that new technology,” The woman rolled her eyes. “Don’t you know it’s hardly been tested? Besides, my cousin has a friend in Tokyo whose house caught fire because of a spark from one of those ugly things. I’ll stick to what I know.”

Genya looked up at the pine log supports of the power line rising above the town. He’d seen power lines plenty of times of course, growing up their apartment had been attached to one, but still. It did look a little out of place next to the traditional architecture of the old town. 

“Well, we appreciate your business.” Tanjiro laughed, then put a hand in the air. “We’ll be off now, see you again in a week!”

“Take care!” The older woman waved, then turned back to her squabble about energy sources with the young man.

They walked on to the edge of town, before Tanjiro stopped, eyes widening. 

“Oh, I almost forgot,” He said, turning around and heading toward a vendor on a side street, “Come on, there’s something else we need.”

“Whatever it is, I can carry it!” Inosuke shouted with a grin, his arms already laden with pork and bags of rice and summer vegetables like a pack mule.

Genya turned the corner with them, his eyes widening as he spotted the stand Tanjiro headed towards.

“Oh, no,” He started, his voice flustered as Tanjiro picked up a large watermelon and sniffed it. “You really don’t have to-”

“Of course I do, I said I would, didn’t I?” Tanjiro smiled broadly, putting down the first melon and sniffing a second. 

“I really don’t need anything special,” Genya winced, looking down at the prices on the melon stand. They were a little less expensive here since they’d been grown probably less than a mile away, but still. Watermelon was a food for the rich.

“But it is special,” Tanjiro smiled again in between sniffing out two more melons, “We’re really happy you’re here with us.”

“And happy to be home.” Nezuko smiled too, looking up at Mount Kumotori.

Well, if they say so, I guess it’s okay… Genya thought, though still a mote of discomfort welled within him as Tanjiro proudly hoisted what he promised to be the sweetest watermelon of them all into the air and Nezuko paid the farmer.

He’d never liked receiving gifts. Growing up his mother hardly had anything to spend, so a birthday or holiday present was often hand-me-down clothing from Sanemi or neighbors. Seeing her work so hard on his behalf always made him sad.

“I don’t need anything,” Genya had said to her privately as she mended a neighbor’s clothing for a few extra yen, “I promise. I’m happy. You don’t have to do so much just for me.” 

“Oh, I know,” His mother had said, her voice and body both small in the dim light of their kitchen. “But, you know, a gift isn’t just for the receiver.”

“It’s not?”

“Nope. You’re my special little trooper, you know? You work so hard with your brother and you’re so nice to all your younger siblings, it makes me happy to give you something nice.”

“It does?” Genya had tilted his head, confused.

“Oh yes, very happy.” She smiled, pulling the thread tight. “Even if I have to work a little extra, it’s worth it to see a big smile on your face.” 

Genya smiled softly, thinking of his mother as he plodded up through the tall trees of Mount Kumotori with the Kamados and company. 

“Thank you.” He said quietly to Tanjiro, avoiding his gaze. 

Next to him, Tanjiro smiled, holding the watermelon under his right arm a bit higher. 

They reached the clearing that held Kamado’s home a few hours later, with the sun still high in the sky. 

The Kamado family had lived in a modest single-story home with a wide sliding wooden door on the left side. A large stone charcoal-making oven sat across from the house on the right side of the clearing under a slanted wooden roof to keep it dry in the rain, stacked high with old wood likely chopped before Tanjiro and Nezuko first left the mountain. A large space in front of the home was bare of grass in a wide circle, indented with eighteen marks at regular intervals. Those would likely carry the torches that burned when Tanjiro’s father would perform the Hinokami Kagura, the dance offered to the spirits of fire in the dead of winter that held the secrets to Tanjiro’s hidden Sun Breathing technique. Genya stepped over the sacred ground. It felt no different than any other ground he’d walked on, but still, a subtle warmth lingered in the air. 

Tanjiro and Nezuko passed their front door and instead went around to the back of the house, bowing low to several irregular mounds of earth now covered in grass. Zenitsu and Inosuke stood solemnly behind them, hands clasped tight together in front of them. Genya stood next to them, unsure what was going on.

“It’s their little ritual.” Zenitsu explained quietly once Tanjiro and Nezuko had risen, collecting their things and moving into the house. “These are the graves of their family.”

Genya’s eyes widened, looking at the dirt mounds with new understanding. He stopped, giving an awkward, curt bow to the bones of those who’d lived here before, then turned and followed Zenitsu and Inosuke into the house. 

He couldn’t believe how… bare it was. 

No bloodstains in the wood floors or plaster walls marked the massacre that had happened here. No clothing or bedding covered the floor, all rolled up neatly and placed in cupboards built into the far wall. Even the broom and washboard and other cleaning supplies had been discreetly put away in an adjoining room, where Nezuko and Tanjiro banged what sounded like pots and ladles and bowls together in what was sure to be the kitchen as they put down their purchases from the shops in town. 

He frowned, a little unsure of what to do, setting his briefcase against the wall as Zenitsu and Inosuke set down their baggage and collapsed onto the floor or excitedly charged around the house. Genya sat down too, relieved to finally rest his aching feet. 

He looked around. Strong wooden supports held the straw ceiling high and true, and dust danced in the sunbeams streaming in through the windows. Laughter and companionship filled the air. A small grin came to his face, and the pain in his core eased just a touch. Of the two mountain homes he could have gone to, he had no problem admitting that this place was much better for him than Himejima’s old cottage. 

Hmmm, I might have to settle that estate at some point, Genya thought, all-to-familiar with the mounds of paperwork that came with a deceased relative and the matters of property. After Sanemi had left, he’d had to take care of police statements, his sibling’s funeral, that month’s power and water bill, and the damage and cleaning to their apartment basically all by himself before being kicked to the curb by the landlord. 

He grimaced. Hopefully the Ubuyashiki family could take care of all that clerical work for him this time.

A sweet smell filled the air. He looked up to see Nezuko carrying a platter of wide-cut watermelon, glistening pink and red in the light. Tanjiro stood behind her happily, his left arm dangling uselessly at his side but his right holding the large knife he had chopped it with. Genya clamped his jaw shut, trying to keep his mouth from watering. 

“Let’s eat outside, it’s nice out today.” Tanjiro smiled, setting the knife back in the kitchen and closing the room’s door behind him as Nezuko brought the melon to the little alcove on the front steps. Inosuke snatched one immediately, chowing into it like a pig to truffles and dribbling juice onto the wood floor as they moved outside.

“Careful now, there’s enough for everybody,” Nezuko laughed, grabbing a slice for herself after she set it down next to her, sitting on the short step. 

“Ah, this is nice,” Zenitsu sighed happily, sitting next to Nezuko as he took his own slice. “Come on, you two.” 

“Go ahead,” Tanjiro smiled, motioning to the tray. 

Genya smiled softly, warmth and peace radiating through his ruined core as he reached for the fruit. The warmth and peace were replaced by confusion as Inosuke whisked it away.

“Hey, bring that back!” Zenitsu rose to his feet, “It’s for all of us!”

“I’m hungry!” Inosuke growled, shoving another slice in his mouth.

“We’ll have dinner in a minute, just be patient!” Zenitsu screeched, grabbing the other end of the tray. 

He tugged. Inosuke tugged back. Nezuko shouted something and Tanjiro gasped, and the whole tray of melon shot into the air. The red triangles of fruit hung suspended against the blue sky for an instant with the scent of fresh sweetness, before tumbling from the air and smashing against the ground below.

“Inosuke! Why would you do that?” Tanjiro demanded, “That was for Genya, say you’re sorry!”

“I’m hungry! ” Inosuke protested. “We’ve been walking all day! You can’t tell me you’re not hungry too!”

Genya blinked. Inosuke seemed genuinely upset. He looked up at Tanjiro, who seemed just as perplexed. 

“Still…” Inosuke grumbled, glancing at the mess of melon on the dirt and then looking away. “I didn’t mean to drop it. Sorry.” 

“Huh,” Nezuko said quietly to Zenitsu with a tilt of her head. “He actually apologized.”

“First time for everything.” Zenitsu shrugged.

“It’s okay Inosuke,” Tanjiro sighed with a weary smile, “I’ll go down the mountain and grab another watermelon while you all make dinner. You can have as much as you’d like.”

“Uh, no you’re not.” Genya frowned. Tanjiro looked up at him, surprised. 

“That’ll take you hours,” Genya continued, “Don’t put yourself out on my account. Besides, Nezuko and Zenitsu still have their pieces, and Inosuke seems just fine with the stuff that fell on the ground.”

Inosuke looked up from his crouch as his name was said, then returned back to shoveling dirt and grass-crusted melon into his mouth. Genya looked over to the tray, which miraculously still had one piece of watermelon on top. He bent down and picked it up, then splitting it in half, passing one piece to Tanjiro and keeping the other for himself. 

“There. That’s better.”

“Are you sure?” Tanjiro frowned, his eyes big and guilty. “This was supposed to be for you. It was supposed to be special.”

“It is special.” Genya smiled, offering the melon slice again. Tanjiro took it. “It’s special because I’m here with all of you.” 

Tanjiro bit into his watermelon piece, a relieved glow coming into his face. Genya smiled again, then took a bite of his own. The fruit burst over his tongue, cold and sweet. He savored the taste in his mouth, looking over as the others did the same under the golden afternoon sun. 

It was perfect. 

Chapter Text

Dear Sanemi,

It’s only been a few days, but living here on Mount Kumotori with the Kamados has been interesting. It’s not at all like how we grew up in the city. There was always so much noise, do you remember? The mountain is noisy too, but it’s a different kind of sound. Crickets and streams and the wind in the trees. And Inosuke, always shouting about something.

I hope you are doing well. I know you can’t write back yet, but I hope you keep learning. I know you’ll be able to someday. You fought Muzan himself after all, if you can do that I’m sure you can learn to write, even though it’s going to be harder with the missing fingers. 

There is not much to say. I am doing well and am happy here, but I hope I can come out to see you soon. Please let me know if you need anything. 

-Genya

The Moon Pillar looked over the letter in his hands again and again, the twist of his frown deepening until it resembled the downward arc of a rainbow. The message had taken him all morning to compose, and even the best he could come up with was still terrible. But he’d promised to write after all, and Sanemi had been waiting long enough. He sighed, then rolled it into a tight scroll, securing it with a small strip of twine.

“Hashibami?” Genya called, glancing up at the treetops for his faithful crow. “Are you there?”

The Kasugai Crows had followed them back from the final meeting, appearing in the trees around the little house the day after they’d arrived. Tanjiro’s crow Matsuemon reported that they’d been entrusted to the care of their slayers for the rest of their days, serving to help them keep in contact with their fellow corps members all over the country. Zenitsu’s little sparrow Chuntaro had built a little nest in an alcove by the front door of the Kamado house, and Inosuke’s crow Dongurimaru kept a watchful eye from high in a nearby tree, reportedly a little wary of Inosuke ever since the Beast Pillar had tried to eat him a few times when he had first been assigned. 

A flurry of black feathers rustled out from the leaves up high. Genya held out his left arm. Hashibami alighted with a few low flaps a moment later, tucking his black wings against his body and then looking up at Genya expectantly. 

“KAW! ” Hashibami croaked with a bob of his head. “Ready, ready!”

“Deliver this to my brother, please.” Genya said, pinching the little scroll between his thumb and pointer finger for Hashibami to grab onto. “He probably won’t have a return message. That’s okay, just make sure this gets to him.”

Hashibami gave him a cautious, knowing look. Genya bit his lip, but the crow turned back to its duty in an instant.

“Deliver to Shinazugawa Sanemi!” Hashibami repeated as though it were business as usual, clutching the letter in his scaly foot, then beating his wings and taking off. “ Message to Shinazugawa Sanemi, from Shinazugawa Genya! KAW!”

Genya watched Hashibami fly away, just as he had dozens of times before. A slight pang of sadness rose in his chest.

He’d tried to write to Sanemi the moment he learned what the Kasugai Crows were actually capable of, after initially being assigned Hashibami on Mount Fujikasane. 

Then he’d tried again, and again, and again. 

Hashibami had reported each of his messages as undelivered. Genya hadn’t understood why the first few times and grew increasingly frustrated, (the Kasugai Crows were supposed to be able to deliver anything, after all,) but Himejima explained the truth a few months after he took Genya under his wing. 

Sanemi simply didn’t want to hear from Genya. 

Himejima said it wasn’t Genya’s fault, that he’d try and talk to Sanemi at the next Pillar meeting, that Sanemi was just busy with Hashira duties and didn’t have time to talk to Genya, that it wasn’t Genya’s fault , making sure to drive that point home more than any other.

Despite Himejima-sensei’s best efforts, it didn’t work. 

Genya’s back teeth worried together as Hashibami’s black wings disappeared over the treetops. Things were different now. He didn’t have to be scared anymore. Sanemi may not be able to reply to his letter, but at least this time he knew he would read it.

Or, hoped he would read it anyway.

The next few weeks at the Kamado house slipped into routine. Every morning they went to fetch water and prepare breakfast, and every night they would eat dinner and roll their futons over the wood floor, telling stories of their demon slaying days or their lives before. Inosuke, surprisingly, had some very good ones, if a little unbelievable.

“-And so the bear said, ‘nuh-uh, King of the Mountain, I’m the strongest,’” Inosuke was saying now, to the great delight of the Kamado siblings and Zenitsu’s rising disbelief, “‘I’m so strong I could roll all the way down this hill of thorny bushes without even a scratch!’” 

“Bears can’t talk, dumbass!” Zenitsu hollered from his futon next to Nezuko. 

“Maybe not to normal people, but I’m the King of the Mountain, remember?” Inosuke puffed up proudly, “Animals talk to me all the time.” 

Inosuke sat under the window, arms up in an impression of a great growling beast. Zenitsu and Nezuko rolled their futons out on the side of the floor closer to the kitchen, and Genya and Tanjiro took up the space closer to the door. Tanjiro laid on his chest, his arms curled under his chin and the heavy blanket draped over his back as he smiled at Inosuke’s story. He caught Genya’s eye, and his smile widened even as Genya reddened and hurriedly turned back to the storyteller. 

“So the bear was bragging his hairy ass off, and then I said, ‘oh yeah? Prove it!’ and would you believe it? The bear tucked his nose to his paws and rolled all the way down the hill!” Inosuke grinned wildly. “And when he hit the bottom, sure enough, he didn’t have a single thorn in his side!”

“Wow, what a miracle,” Zenitsu rolled his eyes. 

“Shhh,” Nezuko pushed against his shoulder, “Let him finish, I wanna hear how it ends!”

“Yeah, shut up Monitsu,” Inosuke gave a halfhearted swat in his direction. “You can talk all about how cool it was when you got struck by lightning later. It’s my turn to talk about how I wrestled the bear!” 

“You wrestled a bear?” Genya blinked, dumbstruck. “How old were you in this story again?”

“Seven.” Inosuke shrugged, as if that were normal. “Boar mama told me to never back down from a challenge from a bear. They’re strong, sure, but they’re mostly all talk, and are real softies once you bruise them up a little.”

“Huh.” Genya frowned. He glanced over to Tanjiro, who shrugged. 

“I don’t smell a lie,” the Sun Pillar whispered, “Either this really happened, or he really believes it did.”

“So,” Inosuke continued, “The bear comes plodding back up the hill, all big and fat and proud of himself and his hide. ‘Now let’s see you do that, boy,’ he said, and then rose up on his hind legs, taller than anything you’ve ever seen, ‘Better do it quick, before I get bored and eat you!'”

Inosuke was standing now, like the bear, hands raised high above his head and fingers curled into claws. Nezuko’s snickers turned to full-blown laughs, and Inosuke’s grin widened.

“So I boxed him in the nose!” Inosuke concluded in triumph, raising a fist in the air. “I hit him again and again and we wrestled for two days straight, until finally the big lug keeled over and died!” 

“You did not! ” Zenitsu sat up in indignation, though a disbelieving smile played at the corners of his mouth.

“Did too! Then I skinned him, tanned out the hide and wrapped it around myself, and went rolling down that same hill! And would you believe it? Not a scratch!”

Nezuko dissolved into a fit of giggles, with Tanjiro not far behind. Against his better judgment Genya found himself unable to suppress a bit of laughter as well, though mostly directed at Zenitsu as he fumed. 

“Well, that’s all,” Inosuke yawned, then picked up his blanket with his teeth and scurried on all fours out the open window above him. “G’night losers!”

“Good night Inosuke,” Tanjiro called, “Sleep well!”

“He’s sleeping outside?” Genya asked. 

“He likes it better.” Tanjiro shrugged. “He’ll stay inside once it starts getting colder later in the year, you’ll see.”

“Maybe, I don’t know if I’ll be around that long,” Genya said, glancing down at the wood floor. “I’m just visiting, remember?” 

“Ah, right.” Tanjiro said, though his smile didn’t drop. A knowing glint seemed to come into his cracked pink iris. “Just visiting.”

Genya frowned, unsure of what that meant, but turned over and closed his eyes. 

One by one, the breathing of the others around him turned steady and rhythmic. One by one, the members of the Kamado household drifted off to sleep.

And so the days passed. Hashibami returned the next day, proudly reporting that he had successfully delivered the message for once, though as expected there was no reply. Tanjiro and Nezuko picked up the charcoal business as easily as though they had never left, and brought their wares down into Okutama once or twice a week, picking up groceries and various sundries like cloth and ink and candles on the way. Tanjiro insisted on buying watermelon every time to make up for the incident when they'd first arrived home, and the farmer, a man named Lizhu, took to liking them immensely.

"Here, for your big friend there, Tanjiro." Lizhu said, slapping a hefty green melon on his market stand and nodding to Genya. "On the house." 

"Wow, really?" Tanjiro said, eyes wide in wonder. "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely! With all your purchases lately, you've made melons popular here again! Everyone wants to try what the Kamados are buying, business is great!"

"That's so kind, thank you so much!" Tanjiro smiled, scooping the melon up with his good right arm. 

"We're happy to help!" Nezuko laughed. 

Lizhu waved them off, and they went back up the mountain, though when Genya turned back he thought he saw a few coins glimmering on the stand where the melon had rested just a moment before. 

Ah, Tanjiro, He thought with a wry grin, too good for your own good...

Sure enough, the melon was delicious, as were the many that followed.

He found the trips up and down the mountain slightly challenging with his new condition, but the exercise seemed to be doing him good. The burn in his legs and lower back almost felt pleasant and rewarding again, just as it had while he’d trained up his body with Gyomei after Final Selection. He still used his walking stick and needed to take several breaks, but with Tanjiro by his side taking just as many, he didn’t mind as much.

Most everyone in town seemed happy to have the Kamados back, and welcomed their eccentric entourage easily enough, though not without curiosity. People still stared at their scars. People still whispered behind their backs as they passed.

“What do you think happened to them?” A woman asked her friend as they walked through the market one sunny afternoon, covering her mouth with a long pink sleeve. “Where did they go for so long?”

“No one knows.” The other woman replied, her low voice still perceptible even as Genya pretended not to notice. “But they look like hell, don’t they? Like they came back from war. Especially that tall one there, with the scars like a cross over his face. It’s ghastly. ” 

Genya’s shoulders slumped, the packet of rice under his arm drooping just a little as he hobbled along.

“Don’t listen to them,” Zenitsu appeared on his other side, glancing back at the women from the corner of his eye as his sharp ears picked up the rest of their conversation. He kept his voice low, though a quiet thunder crackled behind it. “They don’t know what they’re talking about. They haven’t seen the things we have.”

“You’re right.” Genya said, straightening up just a little. “Thanks.”

Zenitsu nodded without looking at him, then took hold of his sleeve and tugged him forward into the throng. 

“Come on, Inosuke will leave us behind if we’re late.” 

A slight smile crossed his face as they moved through the crowd. Something about Zenitsu just then reminded him of Sanemi. A pang of bittersweet homesickness filled his chest, and he made a mental note to write to his older brother more often.

Every few days, Genya would wake up with Inosuke and Tanjiro and head into the forest, where they’d chop down a tree and then carry it back to the charcoal oven. Ever the responsible woodsman, Tanjiro would be sure to plant a few seeds around the area where the tree had been felled to ensure that new life grew up in the forest, just as his ancestors had done for generations.

Inosuke would split the wood into manageable chunks, (starting with his twin serrated katanas until Tanjiro persuaded him to use the axe,) and Tanjiro would stoke the fire in the kiln as it baked through the day and overnight. As the most experienced charcoal maker of the bunch he explained the process, how the kiln dried out and removed all the sap and water from the wood so that it could burn hotter and longer when the people down in the town below needed it. 

Tanjiro would stack the logs Inosuke split in a conical pile against the edges of the kiln and moving inward, just as the previous Kamado charcoal burners had done for centuries. The technique proved effective to Genya immediately, as it maximized the amount of charcoal they could produce with every batch. Any more wood and the flame would stifle and suffocate. Any less and it’d all be burned to a crisp. 

Genya’s job was that of Charcoal Sorter. 

“Are you sure I can’t help with the axe?” Genya asked, glancing to the left where Inosuke split the logs for the next day’s burn with a kind of unrestrained glee. 

“It’s no trouble, Inosuke has it handled!” Tanjiro said under the white mask over his lower face, then turned his focus back to prodding split logs into shape in the blazing kiln with a long metal pole. “Don’t worry, sorting it is the easy job. Even my little brother Rokuta could do it!”

Genya bit his lip. He’d suspected as much. 

“I can do harder jobs than this,” he said. 

Tanjiro stopped and stood up straight, looking over at him with a strange expression in his eyes even as his mouth split in a grin under the mask he wore to keep the soot out of his lungs. 

“Just because a job is easy doesn’t mean it’s not a job. It still has to get done, Genya. What if we didn’t sort the charcoal, and someone down below got a bad piece?”

Not every brick was perfect, despite Tanjiro’s best efforts. Some of them came out too small, or not completely baked, or hollowed out in the middle from the flame. Genya’s job was to evaluate the pieces as Tanjiro pulled them out, sorting them either into the pile they’d sell down the mountain, or the scrap that would end up in the Kamado’s own home stove. 

“I know…” Genya said, briefly glancing over a flawless charcoal brick and moving it to the good pile, “But still. I want to help more.”

I don’t want to be a burden. He didn’t say. 

Tanjiro didn’t reply. Genya dropped the charcoal brick into the pile, where it landed with a heavy thunk. Genya frowned. That wasn’t the noise the bricks were supposed to make. 

He picked up the brick again and held it in his hands. The grainy soot stained his fingers, and a smoky scent filled the air, but this brick held a deceptive density. His lower lip twisted further and slowly, he brought it to his tongue. 

“It’s not baked all the way,” He realized, tasting the undernotes of watery sap still clinging to the heartwood through the strong taste of ash on his tongue. 

Tanjiro grinned. 

“Seems like you’re helping plenty to me.”

Genya rolled his eyes, certain the master charcoal maker could smell the imperfections of that particular brick anyway, but a note of pride woke within him as he moved the brick to the other pile. He had done well. He had helped. 

Charcoal met his tongue many more times that day, and would continue to thereafter. With practice, he found himself able to detect whether a brick was good or not with just a slight taste, and even picked up on some dense, powdery flavors that Tanjiro told him meant the charcoal was of a higher quality than others.

After their charcoal burning was done for the day, Genya would put himself to use in the garden, wandering into it a few days after he’d first arrived. It spanned an area about twelve feet by twenty behind the Kamado house, and had overgrown to thickets in their absence. Long white daikon radishes had been left to grow over many winters, and were thick and over a foot long when Genya finally persuaded Inosuke to pull them from the earth, lacking the strength to do it himself. They’d gone a bit wild and were quite bitter, but after stewing long enough they tasted alright, and the slices he and Nezuko put into pickling jars were sure to taste good by winter. 

At first he’d thought weeds had grown in between the rows of huge fatsia plants and leeks, but those turned out to be wild garlic. A strange bunch of climbing, heart-shaped pale green leaves turned out to be connected to a mess of mountain yam tubers underground, a vegetable he’d never seen before. Wild chrysanthemum sprung up all throughout the soybeans, and while pretty, Genya saw no real use for them and was determined to weed them away, until Tanjiro informed him they often used the leaves in place of cabbage in a stir-fry. All this and more sprouted through the garden, a veritable forest of food. 

“Mom had a system.” Tanjiro smiled, surveying the plot. “It’s a bit chaotic, but it’s always looked this way. I don’t know all the specifics, but it’s all on purpose. A lot of plants grow better when planted next to each other, like chrysanthemum, for instance. The scent of its blooms keep a lot of pests away, and then when the flowers die, the soybeans can climb up the dead stalks.” 

Genya nodded, seeing the wisdom in all this. He’d never had a garden growing up, there hadn’t been any land for them to garden on in their city apartment, but Himejima had taught him similar principles in their mountain home, and the Stone Pillar had always proved right in the end. He'd never had a garden, but he'd somehow ended up with a green thumb, and knew he could manage this little plot once he learned how everything in the ecosystem worked together.

“Your mother sounds very wise.” He said, noting the almost gridlike pattern of the different plants as they pushed up from the earth. It looked like it had been meticulously planned out, before falling into tangled wilds. 

“Yes, she was.” Tanjiro said, looking at the raised mounds of earth on the left side of the house. “I miss her.” 

Shit, Genya thought, his eyes widening as he glanced in a panic towards the graves and then back to Tanjiro. I just brought up his dead mom. 

Genya was no stranger to dead family either. He knew, even given the opportunity, he’d usually rather do anything else than talk about them. It was a private matter, something to think of only on the darkest nights or feel when he was close to death himself. He shook the phantom handprints from his mind. No. This was not something he could just talk about with Tanjiro.

Tanjiro seemed to disagree.

“Do you…” he began, meeting Genya’s eye from the corner of his own. “Want to meet her?”

Genya blinked, caught off guard. He swallowed thickly. Shit. Tanjiro was just offering up something so personal, just like that? This was not supposed to happen. Not like this, anyway.

“I’d be honored.” He said, voice weak and high. 

Tanjiro beamed. 

His strong right hand took hold of Genya’s left sleeve, practically scooping him out of the garden and leading him like a tail-wagging dog to the mounds of earth only about fifteen feet away. Genya panicked internally. He’d never been this close to the graves before. Even going around back to the garden, he’d gone around the right side of the house, not the left. 

This wasn’t his place. This was sacred ground, for family and close friends like Zenitsu and Inosuke only. Was it really okay for them to acknowledge the departed so openly like this? Was it really okay for him to stand here? 

“My father died about a year before the others. His name was Tanjuro. He was sick for most of my life, and it caused him a lot of pain, but whenever he looked at us, he had the kindest smile, like we made him happier than anything.” 

Tanjiro’s own face wore a similar smile, though weary and lined with care. More care than any seventeen-year-old boy’s face should have worn. The mound he stared at looked older than the others, shorter too, as if the earth had had more time to settle. It bore a hearty covering of weeds and grasses, while the other five still had patches of bare earth on top where the plants hadn’t quite grown in.

“This one is my mom. Kie.” Tanjiro said, moving to the first grave in the line closer to the house. He bowed his head for a moment, then looked up, eyes shining but bearing a smile. He turned back to Genya. “She was really smart, and took good care of us all by herself after dad died. I think she would have liked you. My father too.” 

A light breeze stirred the tall grasses growing atop and around the mounds. It ruffled Tanjiro’s reddish hair, and caught the edges of Genya’s yukata. 

“That’s very kind.” Genya bowed to both father and mother, emotion beginning to catch in his own voice. “Thank you. I hope they would have liked me too.” 

Would his mother have liked Tanjiro? Genya shook his head slightly. That was a stupid question. She would have adored him, especially after all the kindness he had shown Genya. His father… probably would have hated him as much as Sanemi had, but that was okay. The man was a jackass anyway, and long dead to boot, so who cared? 

Not Genya. Not anymore.

A thought came to him. This… whatever it was they were doing, felt oddly similar to the act of presenting the bride to the parents of the groom before a wedding. A tinge of heat came to his cheeks. 

God and Buddha above, to be married to Tanjiro…

He shook his head more vigorously this time, clearing his thoughts and shoving that inappropriate nonsense far away where it belonged. 

Instead, he thought of the man Tanjuro, a man he’d never met, would never see, but a father whose love for his children echoed in every aspect of his descendents. What was it like to have a father you didn’t cower in fear from? What was it like to have a father who was proud of you? What was it like to have a family legacy so strong it could defeat the embodiment of evil itself? 

That was Tanjuro. That was Kie. That was Tanjiro and Nezuko. 

That was not Genya. 

“This one is Takeo.” Tanjiro continued, “Just two years younger than Nezuko was. He was always a big help, even though he had a bit of a temper.” 

Genya nodded as Tanjiro let out a little laugh. He could understand that. His younger sisters Sumi and Teiko had been a pain sometimes, but he would have traded anything to hear them bicker over the hairbrush again.

“This is Hanako,” Tanjiro moved on to the next grave, “She was so sweet, she’d follow Nezuko around everywhere, helping with all her chores and asking her to carry her on her shoulders.”

Genya smiled at that. His own younger brother Hiroshi had been the same, even insisting on patterning his own hair after Genya’s mohawk. 

“This is Shigeru,” Tanjiro continued on, “Just a year younger than Hanako. He liked to play pranks on her and Takeo, but he was really smart too. Mom wanted to save up money to send him to a good school someday.”

Genya’s own mother hadn’t had the money to send any of them to school. She’d had only a little education herself, and taught them their numbers and a bit of reading, but couldn’t teach them much beyond that. He wondered how much it would have taken to send Shuya or Hiroshi or his sisters to go get an education, even for just a year. He wondered how Sanemi’s own education was coming along, as he finally learned how to write.

“And here…” Tanjiro finished, stopping at the last grave. “Here’s little Rokuta. He was the baby.” 

His voice trembled a bit. His shoulders tensed a little higher, brushing against his hanafuda earrings.

“He was only four. Only four. He shouldn’t have… I should have been there…”

Tanjiro sniffed and wiped his eyes, his voice breaking in his sentences every now and again. Genya’s heart cracked. He placed a hand on Tanjiro’s shoulder. 

“My youngest brother was named Koto. He was… He was only three.” 

Tanjiro’s eyes widened, a tear streaking down the right side of his face. Genya closed his eyes as the horrors of that night came back to him, of Sumi, Shuya, Hiroshi, and Teiko being ripped away in a shower of blood. His right cheek twitched as he recalled the slash of the demon that was once his mother, his hands filling with the spilt blood of little Koto’s slit throat as his tiny body went limp the next instant. His hand trembled on Tanjiro’s shoulder. His voice trembled in his throat. 

“I couldn’t bury him. Or any of the others. We didn’t have land to bury them on. But I scattered their ashes. I… I don’t know what else I could have done. I don’t know what else I was supposed to do. What you have here, it-it’s so nice, so respectful, I wish I could have given them something like this, but I-” 

“You did great, Genya.” Tanjiro nodded, his own voice choking with emotion. Before Genya knew it, Tanjiro’s face pressed into his chest and his arms wrapped around his lower back. He spoke again, his voice slightly muffled against the purple yukata. 

“You did the best you could.”

Genya started a bit, but wrapped his arms around Tanjiro in return a moment later. From the way he was hugging him, the Sun Pillar needed this just as much as the Moon Pillar did. Genya sniffed as his own tears came hot and fast, pushed away his cares about propriety and honorable conduct, and for a moment, just let himself be. 

Standing there, before all Tanjiro had lost. Monuments in themselves to all both of them had lost, all that the demons had ripped away. 

Genya held the sun in his arms and the crest of the moon on his face. He carried the shadow of rain in his heart, and a dim, flickering flame of hope for the future in his soul. What was gone, was gone. But not all the light had died that night.

They stood wrapped in each other's arms for a long moment. When Tanjiro finally broke away, his face looked a touch red from crying. Genya understood, sure his face was a similar hue, though not only from that emotion. 

“Sorry.” Tanjiro wiped his eyes, “And thank you. I… I don’t really get to talk about them much. Not with anyone aside from Nezuko anyway.” 

“That’s alright.” Genya nodded. He’d never talked about his own family’s demise with anyone but Himejima. Certainly not Sanemi. Though, now that they were reconciled, it could be nice…

He blinked the thought away, then turned back to Tanjiro, who had sat in the grass. He lowered himself next to him, his knees creaking like an old man as he moved. 

“You… had to do all this yourself, didn’t you?” Genya gestured to the graves. “All the digging. And… the cleaning…” 

“...Yes.” Tanjiro started, leaning back on his right hand and looking back up at the sky, somewhere far away. “Nezuko was newly a demon, and couldn’t really do anything. Giyuu had actually just told me that she was a demon earlier that same day, and part of me was worried she would try to eat them, but she didn’t. She mostly just sat with them. She would run her hands over them and straighten up their hair or clothes before I carried them into the graves. I didn’t know if she knew what had happened, but later, Nezuko told me that was all she could do. Her brain was too mixed up. She couldn’t even remember how to cry.” 

Genya blinked, stunned at the thought of having his own emotions ripped away from him. He may not have had much, but at least he’d always been able to cry. He hadn’t realized what a privilege that could be. 

“I cleaned the house after we buried them.” Tanjiro nodded. “I scrubbed all the floorboards and walls. Nezuko and I had to replace a few boards when we came back actually, blood had soaked into them and rotted them away while we were gone, but that was pretty much it. I guess you had to do something similar too, huh, since Sanemi… wasn’t around?” 

“Yeah.” Genya bit his cheek. “The police took the bodies away and cremated them, so at least I didn’t have to deal with that part, but since we were renting rooms I had to deal with the landlord. He made me scrub the whole place spotless. I had to pick up odd jobs at the steel factory to pay for the rest of that month’s rent and bills, since if I didn’t pay up I’d be sent to prison.” 

Tanjiro’s eyes widened in alarm. 

“They’d send a kid to prison? ”

“Zenitsu’s right, you are a country bumpkin,” Genya laughed grimly, thinking of the many orphans he’d seen get snatched off the street and forced into factory work or debtor’s prisons for one reason or another. “I had to try and find Sanemi, and the bastard landlord wouldn’t let me leave until I’d paid everything back. I had no choice.” 

“That explains why you were so angry after Final Selection,” Tanjiro teased, and Genya allowed himself a slight smile. 

“Watching your family die tends to change your outlook on life, yeah.” He nodded sagely.

Tanjiro smiled, but a strange look came over his face. 

“Can I say something weird?”

“Weirder than the shit you usually say?” Genya crossed his arms with a lopsided smile. This was sure to be good. “Go ahead.”

“That was the loneliest time of my life.” Tanjiro began, looking down. “I’m grateful I had Nezuko with me, but… well, she was still learning how to function as a demon, and she wasn’t exactly great company back then. I didn’t know how to fix her, didn’t even know if she could be fixed. I had no idea what was going to happen, and my hands were covered with the blood of the people I loved most in the world.” 

Genya bit his tongue back. He hadn’t expected the conversation to turn so serious again. 

“What I’m trying to say is…” Tanjiro turned to him, pink and ruby eyes glowing like jewels in the sunlight. “I’m glad you understand what that’s like. Even though we didn’t know each other back then, I’m glad to know I wasn’t as alone as I felt I was.”

Genya blinked, a little stunned. He’d never considered it from that angle, but he supposed it was true. A slight glow came into his chest. That little boy, the one who cried as he scrubbed away at the blood of his siblings from the floorboards until they began to stink with rot and who worked until three in the morning pumping the bellows at the foundry until he vomited from exhaustion, hadn’t been as alone as he’d felt. There had been another boy, far away on a distant mountain, going through the same kind of hell.

“Yep,” Genya said glumly, “We’re the dead-family cleanup-crew.”

He’d intended it as a joke, to lighten the mood, but regretted the words the moment they slipped from his mouth. That was far too irreverent. That was no way to speak of his dead family, and was certainly no way to speak of Tanjiro’s dead family. His shoulders stiffened, and he chanced a glance out of the corner of his eye. The Sun Pillar’s jaw had dropped in shock, and icy shame welled in the pit of his stomach.

The corners of Tanjiro’s open mouth turned up, and he barked out a laugh, scandalized. 

“Genya!” He giggled, “That’s too crude!” 

He put a hand to his mouth as he laughed, glancing around and ducking his head in shame as though he were still a young boy who might get in trouble for sharing a crass joke with a friend.

Genya smiled, relieved, even as he threw a prayer of apology to the remains of the departed Kamado family. 

Tanjiro’s laugh was the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard.

While Tanjiro, Genya, and Inosuke worked outside, Nezuko and Zenitsu kept house. Zenitsu’s bad leg kept him from moving very far, and he and Genya had had to rest for several days after their long journey home, but Zenitsu kept up a chipper face for the most part, unless he was in need of Nezuko’s attention, begging her to rub his sore feet with the seaweed medicine from Kanao or asking his opinion on his latest musical piece. He passed many hours practicing his shamisen, bringing music to the little house and a pleasant background accompaniment to their various labours. He also washed all the dishes after each of their meals, and swept the wide floor of the house every now and again. During his free time he had started writing an autobiography, though Tanjiro privately told Genya it wasn’t very good. 

“He wrote himself as a nine-shaku-tall samurai,” Tanjiro had said to him quietly in the little mudroom, fighting to keep a snicker from his voice, “he’s also still the Thunder Pillar for some reason, even though the rest of the corps isn’t mentioned at all. He wrote Nezuko as a princess, and me as a gambler trying to pay off my debts. Inosuke is a boar demon he fought and killed in the first chapter.” 

“I see.” Genya had blinked, finding himself grateful that Inosuke had no interest in literature, otherwise there might be blood at the insult. “Am I there?”

“I think he’s still getting to your part.” Tanjiro had frowned, putting a hand to his chin. “He did make a mention of a demon ogre under a bridge with a very similar haircut to yours. I’m sure he’ll get around to slaying you eventually.”

“Hmmm.” Genya had nodded, finding himself grateful that he held little interest in literature as well.

Nezuko took up most of the cooking, though Zenitsu assisted her in preparing the ingredients, and Tanjiro would help as much as he could once he came in from his work for the day. Genya found it all very good. Rice with sesame seeds and soybean paste, with grilled meats from the farms at the base of the mountain and vegetables from their own garden. Inosuke contributed in his way as well, gathering fish from streams and wild plants from the mountainside. Tanjiro’s sharp nose made extra sure to check these for poison after the incident with the inconspicuous brown mushroom. Genya bought some jars of misoyaki sauce on a trip into town once, as he recalled tasting it as a glaze on salmon in a restaurant during a mission in Shizuoka a few years back, and it complimented all the food immensely. 

Nezuko had also taken to weaving on a small loom, dying the thick homespun cloth with natural colors sourced from roots and flowers on the mountain. It all came out in a kind of checkerboard pattern like Tanjiro’s haori and the white and red obi belt around Nezuko’s own midsection, but in different colors. The first one was a similar kind of yukata to Genya’s, made for Zenitsu in checkerboard black and yellow. Zenitsu wore it with unbridled pride, often forgoing his usual triangle-patterned yellow haori on the warmer days and wearing the yukata instead. Nezuko also wove a pair of black and blue pants for Inosuke, which he changed into without much complaint. He still wore the bearskin hide about his hips and his ever-present boar mask over his head, so in the end not much had changed about his appearance, but he seemed happy to match the others. 

“Genya, can I see your yukata?” Nezuko asked him one morning while Tanjiro and Inosuke were out fetching water from the nearby stream.

“What for?” He replied, somewhat warily.

“Oh, no reason,” Nezuko tossed her hair back over her shoulder, “I just want to take some more measurements for the cloth I’m making for you. Or would you prefer a haori?”

Genya’s gut twisted. He’d been afraid of that answer.

“Oh, please,” He waved his hands in front of him, “You don’t have to do that for me, I don’t need anything special.”

“Why not?” Nezuko cocked her head. “Everyone in our family wears them.”

Genya nearly choked. Family? The checker-patterned cloth was for family?

“I’m… Just visiting…” Genya managed to wheeze.

“Right, that’s what Tanjiro said,” Nezuko allowed, though her eyes narrowed just a touch. “But he also said to make you one anyway, so you could remember us when you left.”

Genya’s shoulders eased a little, and a nervous laugh escaped his mouth.

“That’s kind of him, but Tanjiro is impossible to forget.” 

He bit his tongue, cursing his big mouth. The words were too familiar, too honest. They came too close to ripping open the curtain of his masquerade and revealing the ugly truth beneath.

If Nezuko noticed, she didn’t let on, simply letting out a happy “hmm” of assent before turning back to her loom.

“I’m making you a haori. You can’t stop me.” 

“Yes I can,” Genya said, clutching the purple yukata closer around himself. “How are you gonna do that without the right measurements?”

Nezuko picked up a bundle of black cloth on her other side and waved it lazily, not taking her eyes off her work as the weft drove back and forth between the crossed threads. Genya recognized it immediately as the shirt of one of his uniforms, a spike of indignation rising within him.

“Give that back!” He exclaimed, snatching it back from her limp grasp and wondering when she had even found her way into his suitcase. 

“Oh no, my only reference,” She said sarcastically, pushing back a notepad that Genya was sure contained the measurements already. 

Genya fumed, even though part of him wanted to laugh. Making friends with a Kamado was inevitable it seemed, though while Tanjiro did it with unflinching earnesty and good will, Nezuko went about it in a more smug way, like a cat, certain that she’d win in the end. So far, that certainty had not been in vain. Not in Genya’s case anyway. He fumed, but couldn’t help cracking a smile.

Never a dull moment with the Kamados, it seemed. A spark of gratitude welled up within him, thankful that Tanjiro had convinced him to visit back then at the Ubuyashiki estate. If not here, he'd probably be sitting in his old room at Himejima's cottage right now, bored out of his mind, but no. Every day here was full of light and companionship, a quiet kind of peace that permeated through his very core.

Genya took a breath of the cool, clean mountain air, and reveled in the peace of the world he had fought to reach.

Chapter Text

It was early in the morning of the thirty-sixth day at the Kamado house when it started.

The splitting. 

The slow, dull ache that blossomed into a knife of searing pain, jerking him from his slumber. A torment as sharp as the pulsing moon, burning in his core and refusing to be ignored. Genya’s eyes shot open and he sucked in a heaving gasp, panting as his body soaked with cold sweat. 

He grit his teeth, eyes bulging out of his skull as a bead of sweat rolled down the side of his face.

This was bad.

Dimly, he recalled that the scar running down the length of his body had started to change color over the past few days, the pink deepening to a vivid itchy purple, but he hadn’t thought much of it. He cursed his own negligence now as he peeled off his nightshirt, revealing the veiny, bluish-black spiderwebs of fragile flesh and peeling, pale skin running straight down his chest and through his stomach. 

The edges of his vision blurred. His guts spasmed in painful lurches. He doubled over, then regretted it as an equal pain sliced down the length of his spine. The skin around the scar was brittle now it seemed, and the stretch had just split it wide open.

God and Buddha above, this is it, this is the end, Genya thought, eyes brimming with tears as he fought not to whimper at the pain. Blood dripped down his torn back. His jaw trembled and his head pounded, the seam of bone through his skull threatening to unknit itself any second now. He bit back a sob, managing only a squeak in the night. 

Next to him, Tanjiro rolled over. His face wrinkled as he breathed in through his nose, once, twice, then his eyes shot open and he was sat up in an instant. 

“Blood!” He shouted. “I smell blood! Genya, what’s happening?”

Genya couldn’t answer. A spasming shudder tore through his body. A wheeze of pain escaped his mouth, high and breathless and keening, like a child’s cry. A pit of shame welled up within him at this wretched display, almost as harsh as the ring of blinding pain around his entire head and torso. 

“Nezuko, light the lamp!” Tanjiro instructed as the others roused, “Zenitsu, go get water! Quickly!”

“What’s going on?” Nezuko asked as the pair clambered to their feet. 

“Something’s wrong with Genya,” Zenitsu said as they dashed to the kitchen, “He’s breathing like a dying man!”

“Genya,” Tanjiro said with a quiet severity, coming in closer and putting his hand on his heaving shoulder, “Can you hear me? What’s wrong? Dammit, you’re bleeding everywhere, I-”

“S-sorry,” Genya choked out through great gasps of air, blinking back tears. His voice came out hoarse and choppy. “So so-sor-sorry…”

“Sorry?” Tanjiro asked, perplexed. “What for? Genya, what-”

“ Bleeding so m-much. ” Genya wheezed, shame crawling up his chest and spilling out his eyes, no matter how hard he squeezed. “ I-I woke you up. I’m ru-ruining the futon. ”

“Oh, Genya…” A string of heartbreak carried in Tanjiro’s voice. 

Humiliation twisted in Genya’s guts like a writhing serpent, shaking his body in great sobs as it mingled seamlessly with the pain enveloping him. No doubt Tanjiro had seen the truth by now, Genya’s foul, dirty blood seeping into the once pure and clean futon he had so kindly let Genya borrow while he stayed here. The futon that had once belonged to his dead sibling, no less, the sibling whose blood he’d scrubbed out of these very floorboards and who he had done his best to keep the house clean for. All Genya could do was tarnish that legacy, bleed over everything and sully the sanctity of this place. 

He would get up and leave right now if he could, apologize to Tanjiro for all the mess he’d put him through and head out the door to never see him again, but he couldn’t, he couldn’t, the pain kept him locked in place. The best he could do was curl further in on himself, shuddering with agony and a mortified embarrassment at this turn of events. 

He stopped his shaking as another warm body slid next to him. A strong right arm wrapped tight around his middle, and miraculously, the all-encompassing pain dulled at the pressure. Like the two splitting halves of him were being pressed together again, just as they should be.

“What…” Genya gasped, finding himself able to speak with a degree of competence again, “What are you d-doing? You’ll get blood all over yourself.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Tanjiro shook his head. “The futon doesn’t matter either, we can wash it. You matter, Genya.”

Tanjiro squeezed tighter on the last sentence. Genya breathed a sigh of pure bliss. 

Good. 

It almost felt good. 

He blinked, then frowned. No, that wasn’t possible. It was just his pain-addled brain trying to make sense of the relief the pressure around his middle was bringing him, like two drifting logs lashed together with a strip of leather. 

“It seems like you’re feeling a bit better now,” Tanjiro said, starting to sit up, “Can you-”

“ NO! ” Genya exclaimed, reaching up to keep Tanjiro from pulling away. The Sun Pillar’s pink and scarlet eyes widened in surprise. Genya’s face reddened immediately, and he released Tanjiro’s arm, looking away.

“...Sorry.” He mumbled. “But… I think I’m f-figuring it out.”

Tanjiro looked confused. Genya glanced away, taking a breath and summoning up the strength to explain further.

“I got… sliced in half, you know? So when there’s,” He coughed, hoarse and wet. A few drops of blood spattered over his bare chest. Tanjiro took in a sharp breath at the sight, alarmed, but moved his gaze back up as Genya continued. “When there’s s-something wrapped around me, like your arm there, it feels nice… Like I’m being held t-together.”

“Oh, I see,” Tanjiro nodded, winding his arm back around Genya and returning that blissful relief to his core again. A teasing note came into his voice, as if trying to lighten the mood. “Though, if you wanted a hug, all you had to do was ask.”

“It’s not that, d-dumbass! I’m literally falling apart!”

“Right…” Tanjiro bit his lip, evaluating the situation again. “...What do we do?”

“I need Yushiro.” Genya grit his teeth, still trying to regain the last of his composure from the split and trying not to think of how Tanjiro was effectively spooning him right now, “If I eat his flesh I can turn into a d-demon again, and my body will heal. For a little while, anyway.”

“Okay.” Tanjiro nodded, then looked up as an orange glow came from the kitchen. Nezuko stepped back into the main room, lit by the flickering light of a stout lamp. Zenitsu followed behind a few moments later, a clay jug of water under his arm. Both looked a little surprised to see Tanjiro in Genya’s futon. Nezuko’s gaze shifted back and forth between their faces, a slight wrinkle appearing between her eyebrows. Genya’s cheeks heated with embarrassment, but nobody mentioned it, listening as Tanjiro issued orders.

“We need bandages. And a crow. Has anyone seen Matsuemon? He knows the way to Yushiro.” 

“I’ll find him.” Zenitsu said, stepping to the door. 

“I’ll make some bandages.” Nezuko offered, setting the lamp down between Genya and Tanjiro’s futons. “We’ve got plenty of old rags around here.”

She disappeared into the kitchen. Tanjiro didn’t say anything, keeping his grip strong around Genya’s body. Genya swallowed hard, the action stinging in his splitting throat. He chanted the nembutsu in his head, all five senses opened and fingers rubbing over Gyomei’s ojuzu beads in Repetitive Action until his pain dulled away and his head cleared a bit more.

“...Thank you, for doing this.” Genya mumbled a moment later, finally a bit more composed both literally and figuratively. “I’m sorry I woke everybody up.”

“There’s no need to apologize.” Tanjiro said firmly, “This is an emergency. We won’t let you die, Genya.” 

Tears pooled in his eyes and dripped down his face, again. Too nice. Everyone around him was too nice. Tanjiro, Sanemi, Aoi, Kiriya, Yushiro, everyone who had helped him, cleaned up after him, praised and awarded him, even brought him back from the dead… No. It was all too damn nice. Genya wasn’t worth all that. It was too much trouble. Better just to let go and let him sink below the water rather than keeping his miserable hide floundering at the surface. 

But of course, Tanjiro didn’t think so. 

“I’ve got the bandages,” Nezuko said a minute later, her bare feet pounding against the wood floor as she dashed over. “Some extra rags too.”

“Good,” Tanjiro said, dipping one in the water jug, “Let’s get him cleaned up. Genya, do you think you can sit up?”

Genya nodded, albeit weakly, but didn’t say anything. Tanjiro and Nezuko helped him rise from the futon, then Nezuko slid her hands under his arms and lifted him until his knees hovered a couple inches above the ground, like she was dangling a bedraggled cat. Genya would have been impressed, it seemed Nezuko had kept quite a lot of her demon strength after all, but he was distracted as Tanjiro took the cloth from the cool water and washed away the streams of scarlet dripping down Genya’s back. 

“You do have a lot of scars,” Tanjiro commented behind him, gliding the smooth cloth over Genya’s shoulder blades.

“Yeah.” Genya huffed. “Maybe I’ll give you a tour of them someday.”

“Oh!” Tanjiro exclaimed, and Genya could practically feel the smile in his voice. “There’s a hot spring that becomes active in the fall here higher up on our mountain, we should go! Then you can show me everything!”

Genya’s heart pounded at the thought of showing Tanjiro “everything.” Hardly a foot away from his face, Nezuko gave him a strange look. 

“N-no, that’s okay,” Genya floundered for an excuse, his eyes darting between Nezuko, his bloody futon, the ceiling, Nezuko again, then a distant spot on the wall, “I’m, er, not sure if I can make it up the mountain anyway.”

“Oh, don’t worry, it’s not too far! Besides, you get down the mountain well enough, and the spring is closer to us here than the town is!”

“I seem to recall the two of you ‘bonding in your nakedness’ at the Swordsmith Village hot spring already,” Nezuko muttered, casting that strange gaze on Genya again. 

“Oh, right!” Tanjiro exclaimed, chipper as ever as he scrubbed the blood from Genya’s spine. “What’s changed since then?”

“A lot, actually,” Genya snapped, even as his blush deepened. The sight of Tanjiro jumping into the hot spring before him wasn’t one he would forget easily. “Besides, I thought you were a freak back then, remember?”

“You were right.” Nezuko said, turning her taunting eye back on her brother with a churlish grin. “Tanjiro’s always been a Grade-A weirdo.”

“You’re breaking my poor heart,” Tanjiro swooned in mock dismay, raising his right hand to his forehead, bloody towel and all. “My dear little sister and my closest friend, both turning against me and slandering my good name. Oh, how can I ever recover?”

“You’ll be fine.” Genya rolled his eyes, then bit his lip as a touch of the rotting ache seeped back into his core. “Er, I really hate to complain, but could we speed this up a little? I’m starting to split again.”

“Right.” Tanjiro snapped back to attention, “Hold still.”

The next half hour wore away quickly. Genya was given painkillers, (three, at Tanjiro’s insistence, even though Nezuko argued that Kanao said to only take two at a time,) and while they didn’t completely dull the ache, he much preferred it to the alternative. 

Tanjiro cleaned up the worst of the blood, then unwound the clean strips of gray cloth and began wrapping them tightly all the way up Genya’s torso. Over his stomach, around his ribs, up his chest and collar, even around his neck and head. Genya shuddered at his touch, but managed to pass it off as pain spasms rather than anything else. Tanjiro offered his assistance on the lower parts too, but Genya insisted on handling everything below the belt himself. Medical emergency or not, there was no need for him to see that mess. 

Even so, the bandages were nice and tight, and the compression helped keep him in place. Combined with the drugs, he could almost ignore the sensation of being torn in half, decomposing from within. Almost.

I should start binding up every day, Genya thought, thinking of the constant ache in his core, ever present even on his good days. It might help a lot.

“I found Matsuemon!” Zenitsu exclaimed, bursting into the house with the crow on his shoulder and a sparrow in his hair. “Chuntaro helped me!”

The little sparrow chirped, clearly pleased with itself as it nestled deeper into Zenitsu’s blonde head.

“Thank you Zenitsu! And Chuntaro too!” Tanjiro smiled broadly. He’d been pacing anxiously for the past twenty minutes, glancing between Genya, out the window, at the brief message to Yushiro he’d composed, and everything else in the house. Genya shrank away every time he’d looked at him. 

It felt… strange, having someone else care about him this much. 

 Matsuemon kawed loudly, then flapped over to his rightful master. Tanjiro tilted his head to the right for the bird to land on his left shoulder, as he could no longer support it on his withered left arm, then handed the bird the message. 

“Please get this to Yushiro, as fast as you can. Tell him to hurry!”

“ KAW! KAW!” Matsuemon trilled with a bob of his head, snatching the message in his talons. “ Message to the demon Yushiro, from Kamado Tanjiro! Expedited delivery! KAW!”

“Thank you!” Tanjiro called, as with a flurry of wingbeats and feathers, the crow shot out the door like a streak of black lightning. Tanjiro turned to Genya next. “Don’t worry. Just hold on. Yushiro will be here soon.”

Genya blinked. Worried? No, he wasn’t worried. In pain, sure, but he was used to that. His eyes widened a touch. Was Tanjiro… worried? About him?

“Why?” Genya asked, only belatedly realizing he’d asked the question out loud, then cringing internally.

“Um.” Tanjiro blinked. “...Because we sent for him? What do you mean?”

“How much blood did you lose?” Nezuko asked with an analytical cock of her head. 

“No, no,” Genya shook his head. “I mean, why are you so worried? I’ll be fine once Yushiro gets here.” 

Tanjiro looked as though he’d been slapped. Nezuko’s eyebrows knit together in concern. Even Zenitsu looked perturbed, exchanging glances with the others. Tanjiro blinked a few times, then knelt down to Genya’s side, where he took his left hand in his right. The rough callouses of his palm rubbed against Genya’s knuckles.

“You almost died. You were crying, and covered in blood. Of course we were worried. Of course we still are, and will be until Yushiro gets here and can fix you.”

Ah, right. 

Too damn nice. 

Genya’s throat tightened. He didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve such good friends, people who would drop everything in the dead of night and help him through a little pain, especially after he’d bled all over their nice things. He didn’t deserve to worry others with his issues. It was his own fault, really. He’d been stupid and complacent. He’d known this was coming, had even seen the signs yesterday when his scar grew purple and extra tender. That was when he should have sent for Yushiro, then they could have avoided this whole mess. 

But no, he’d been distracted yesterday. Caught up in Tanjiro’s shining hair and nice teeth, the glow of his eyes and the strength of his arm as he pushed charcoal bricks deeper into the oven in a single sweep. He’d been too focused on something he could never have to realize the situation literally decaying around him. 

For not the first time, a tiny part of Genya wished he had died. How much heartache could he have spared the others if he had just died back when he was supposed to, instead of dragging it out in this shambling corpse act? How long could he continue this facade, this half-survival, this mockery of a life worth living?

How much longer could he dare to make Tanjiro worry?

“It’s fine.” Genya looked away, hoping a joke would cut the tension. “It takes more than that to kill me.”

It didn’t work very well. Tanjiro’s lip twisted, and Nezuko cocked her head, then turned to Zenitsu, who shrugged. No one said anything. Genya breathed a long sigh through his nose then reclined his head back on the futon, focusing on the pain running down his middle and running over the nembutsu chant again and again, trying to meditate away the unpleasant physical sensations with Repetitive Action like Gyomei had always done in the face of pushing past his bodily limits. Genya wasn’t nearly as good at meditation or as devoted a Buddhist as Himejima had been, but his master’s teachings hadn’t all been for nothing. 

With his eyes closed, he heard Nezuko and Zenitsu get back into their bedding. The muffled edges of their brief conversation rose into the still air, then their regular breathing flowed in waves as they returned to sleep. 

He didn’t hear Tanjiro move at all. 

_____

When Genya woke next, it was to a sharp, prodding poke in his lower ribs. 

“ Gah, ” He gasped, then glared into the irritating green eyes looking down on him, finger primed for another sharp jab. Ah, Inosuke. Great. Genya tried to tell him to piss off, but the words came out of his throat in a stiff and croaky groan. 

“What’s wrong with you?” Inosuke asked, poking him again. Genya grunted in pain. “You look like a silkworm cocoon.”

The soft gray light filtering through the windows told him it was about seven or eight in the morning. A steady growl built in the back of his throat. If these were the old days, he’d have flown into a rage and tackled the Beast Pillar across the room, pummeling his face in with his knuckles. God and Buddha above, how he still wanted to thrash Inosuke sometimes! But these weren’t the old days anymore, and his joints ached in protest at the mere thought. 

“Hey,” Zenitsu snapped his fingers and made shooing motions with his hands as he came to Genya’s rescue, “Enough of that. He’s hurt, let him rest.”

“But what’s wrong with him? He was fine yesterday!”

“He’s splitting, remember? We talked about this. He got cut in half and his demon powers couldn’t close the wound all the way. Now he needs Yushiro again or he’s gonna die for real.”

“You mean he’s gonna eat Yubisho? ”

“Not all of him, dumbass,” Zenitsu rolled his eyes, then paused and looked down at Genya. “You… don’t need to eat all of him, right?”

“No…” Genya wheezed, tasting blood in the back of his split throat. “...Just like… A hand, or something…”

“Hmm.” Zenitsu’s nose twitched a bit in disgust, but he turned back to Inosuke. “Just a hand. Now go eat, I made stir-fry.”

“I heard him, I’m not deaf Mojitsu,” Inosuke snarled, then turned to walk back into the kitchen with a grumble. “Stupid Dunya… Eating demons but not poison…”

“Where-” Genya coughed, spraying a few droplets of blood over the bandages on his chest. “Where’s Tanjiro?”

“He and Nezuko went down the mountain for medicine.” Zenitsu said. “Matsuemon was instructed to guide Yushiro up to the house here, so we have no idea when they’ll get here. Tanjiro was panicking earlier, so Nezuko took him down to town. He’s a man of action, you know. He doesn’t like to sit around if he feels he can make a difference.”

Genya’s lip quirked downward, sudden and irrepressible as the wave of emotion that washed over him. That old sting in his eyes came to greet him once again. He turned his head, getting his face out of Zenitsu’s line of sight. 

How stupid and selfish could he be? He’d made Tanjiro panic? Made him trek all the way down Mount Kumotori, for medicine that wouldn’t even work? 

He grit his teeth so hard that with a flaring pop , the left side of his lower jaw burst in pain, like the bone was seconds away from splitting in half right where Kokushibo had cleaved it two months ago between his bottom incisors. The bone threatened to hang unhinged like a snake, dangling loose and malleable in the confines of his skin. He squeezed his eyes shut, pain and shame mingling together in a unique cocktail he was despairingly familiar with by now.

“How…” Genya gasped, dreading the answer. “How are they… paying for it…”

“Paying for it?”

“Tanji-” Genya coughed, then started again. “Tanjiro said they… didn’t have money… for train tickets… medicine… is expensive…”

“I gave them the money.” Zenitsu said with a shrug. “It wasn’t much, I doubt they could find anything worthwhile, but I gave them enough to get something to put Tanjiro’s mind at ease.”

Genya’s heart broke, this time with relief. Money he could handle. 

“My wallet…” He croaked, limply pointing to his suitcase. “Take it… let me… pay you back…”

“It’s nothing, really, I-”

“ Please, ” Genya breathed, the beg rough and ragged on his throat. “Take it… I don’t want to… be a burden…”

Zenitsu didn’t say anything. Genya closed his eyes.

"Please..."

His labored breath pumped in and out of his lungs. A bird chirped outside, and a slight creak came from somewhere as the old house settled. Eventually, he heard soft footsteps, and the clicking of the latches of his suitcase near the wall. The swishing of clothing. The clink of bullets in their shells. The clear polished tapping of Gyomei’s large red beaded necklace. The hefty flip of his wallet being opened, and the rustling of bills being counted out. At one point, he would have throttled the blond man for even being within ten feet of his wallet, but now he didn’t care how many bills Zenitsu took. If it meant repaying Tanjiro, he’d do anything. 

“Thank you…” Genya sighed, finally a little at peace. 

“Don’t mention it…” Zenitsu said, a tinge of awkwardness in his voice. 

“Why… Why don’t they have… money?” Genya began. “They’re… Hashira…”

“It took me a little while to figure it out too.” Zenitsu said, sitting down next to him. “Kiriya gave us enough money to buy a dozen mansions, and more is sure to come in every season, but money doesn’t stay very long in Tanjiro’s hands.” 

Genya frowned, but didn’t say anything. Zenitsu continued. 

“He and Nezuko never needed money. I saw it with my own eyes, traveling with him before the final battle. Any time the crows came with his pay, he handed it off to any orphan or single mother or wounded man he met on his journey.”

Genya’s eyes widened. It made perfect sense of course, but still, he could hardly believe it. He’d been raised to stretch yen as far as it would go, to pinch every penny and always to save, save, save. Tanjiro really just gave money away? He exhaled slowly, dumbfounded. Zenitsu continued. 

“He was especially generous to the people affected by the demons he’d fought, giving them enough money to start fresh somewhere new. He’s still supporting them even now, sending them money with his crow. I don’t know how he keeps track of them all. I don’t know how anyone can be so generous. He’s a living, breathing, blessing on earth.”

“I… had no idea…” Genya gasped, trying to think of all the people he’d met on his own journey. Very few had even been alive by the time he usually got there. Fewer still were happy to see him, ferocious and demonized as he usually was by that point in the night. Whatever effect Tanjiro had on people, it seemed Genya had the opposite. 

“We really don’t need to be working as charcoal burners.” Zenitsu said, glancing through Genya’s wallet again. “It doesn’t cost us hardly anything to live up here. It looks like you alone have enough money to keep us afloat here for at least ten years. Tanjiro does it for the people, the ones who still rely on charcoal in the winter down there in Okutama. He likes to be useful, you know.” 

Genya nodded slowly, taking this all in. He liked to be useful too. 

“But even if no one needed it, I think he’d still make charcoal. It’s in his blood. Plus, I think it makes him feel closer to his family.”

“You’re… very perceptive…” Genya said. Zenitsu shrugged.

“It’s not that. It’s just that Tanjiro’s an open book. He’s literally incapable of telling a lie.”

Zenitsu’s amber eyes lit on Genya, a curious glow in them. 

“You should try taking a closer look at him sometime. You might learn a lot.”

Genya’s cheeks burned in irritation and embarrassment. What, was Zenitsu looking down on him? Calling him a bad friend, for not obsessively watching his every move like the Thunder Pillar apparently had? The hell did he know, the little yellow perv? 

Besides, Genya thought, I can’t risk ‘taking a closer look’ at Tanjiro than I already do without exposing myself. 

No, Genya would keep his distance. That was the only way. 

_____

When next he woke, it was to the sound of the door creaking open and footsteps rushing to his side. 

“Genya!” Tanjiro shouted, kneeling next to his head, gentle hands patting his face and shoulders in a near panic, making sure he was still breathing, could still be roused back into the land of the living. “We got back as fast as we could! We have medicine! How are you feeling?”

The light through the window was bright and yellow now, probably about three or four in the afternoon. Genya blinked blearily, breath hot and ragged, blood and sweat making the bandages sticky on his cold skin. He met Tanjiro’s ruby and cracked-pink gaze, and for a moment, everything was okay again. 

Then, of course, a terrific pain tore through his middle. 

“I’m okay,” Genya lied, barely above a whisper. Tanjiro seemed to buy it, a relieved grin splitting over his face like the sun cresting peaks of desolate snow. 

“There’s a great herbalist in town,” Tanjiro continued, setting a bag bursting with fresh and earthy scents down on the floor next to Genya’s head. “Not as good as Kanao or Lady Shinobu, but still really good.”

“She helped our brother Takeo when he almost died from a really bad illness.” Nezuko said, “We thought it might have been typhoid, but we’re not sure, since none of the rest of us got it. Our mother was smart, but it was winter and there weren’t a lot of herbs up here, and she didn’t know what to do. Tanjiro and I went down the mountain ourselves and brought her back up with us, and she fixed him. Hopefully she can fix you too.”

“Here, eat this.” Tanjiro said, practically shoving a bundle of herbs into his mouth. 

Genya complied, opening wide and allowing the fragrant mass of leaves and salts and strong oils into his mouth. 

Many ingredients he couldn’t place, but as he chewed and probed he began to parse them out. There were the medicinal salts of course, imbued with minerals to strengthen the body’s natural processes and bolster his immune system. Not much good it would do to a slice through his entire body, but hey, at least he wouldn’t die of the common cold. 

Next came the herbs. There, a hearty crunch of fresh and fragrant mitsuba. Good for digestion, and often used as a mood relaxant. Not bad, not bad, he could stand to relax a little. After that came the woody, almost sweet taste of spicebush. An anti-inflammatory agent, good for aching muscles and stiff joints. Good. He had plenty of aches to soothe. Next up was a heady dose of refreshing mugwort, good for blood purification, followed by the warm spice of shiso leaves, the best antibacterial agent one could find in the woods. Pretty decent, all things considered. At least his wound wouldn’t get infected. Hopefully. 

Tanjiro watched him chew and swallow, eyes large with worry and darting all over his frame. Was he perhaps using the fabled Transparent World technique, assessing the damage to his organs, the staggered blood flow in his body, the shallow pumps of his lungs, and getting a full picture of the ruin before him? Genya hoped not, but Tanjiro’s face seemed to grow more ashen by the second. 

“There was… a lot of good stuff… in there,” Genya said as the mess of chewed herbs slid down his torn throat, “Thank you…. I think I’m… feeling a little better… already.”

He was, in fact, not feeling better already. In truth, the herbs would probably do very little, if anything, to ease the state he was in now. But it was worth it to have Tanjiro’s eyes meet his own, to see a weary, worried, but hopeful smile shine on his face once more. 

“I’m so glad. Here, we bought plenty. There’s a few pots of pain relieving cream in there too. She said it’s not supposed to get into your bloodstream though, so we can put it on your scar when it’s healed.” 

“The herbalist uses it on her husband’s feet,” Nezuko said from the kitchen, “And he swore by it, so we figured it couldn’t hurt to try.” 

“We’ve got teas and eyedrops and medicated bandages,” Tanjiro said almost proudly, rifling through the bag again. “Anything you could need. Just say the word.”

“...How much did this all cost?” Genya asked, knowing he didn’t want to know the answer. Across from him, Tanjiro and Nezuko shared a look, and from the kitchen, Zenitsu gave him a glance of his own.

“...Don’t worry about it.” Tanjiro shook his head. “You just focus on getting better.” 

Genya’s heart sank. Those were the same words his mother would have said after spending a lot of money. He was glad he’d paid Zenitsu back already, effectively settling any debt, but still. 

“I don't know… how I can repay you…” Genya’s weak voice quivered, his breath keening as he struggled through a longer sentence. “You don’t know… you’ve done… so much… so much for me…”

Too much, Genya didn’t say. Far too much. Much more than someone like me deserves. You’re too fuckin’ nice, Tanjiro. Too nice for your own good.

“Get better, Genya.” Tanjiro put a hand on his shoulder, his eyes taking on a new kind of blazing, hopeful determination. “That’s how you can repay me. I don’t want anything else. Just for you to be happy and healthy again.”

He reached down, holding Genya’s right hand in his own. 

“Promise me you’ll get better.”

He squeezed his hand, tight and warm. Genya blinked wearily, the sensation cutting through the fog of pain and fatigue in his split mind. He gave a weak smile.

“...I promise.” 

The Sun Hashira, in the flesh. Those red and pink eyes, somehow heavier than hope itself. The hand on his shoulder still had enough strength to crush his bones to dust, of that Genya had no doubt, but his calloused fingertips lingered on Genya’s skin with nothing but the gentlest of touches. Hardly a ripple on the surface of a still pond. 

Genya nodded, swallowed thickly, and closed his eyes. 

Chapter Text

“He’s almost here!” Zenitsu shouted. “I hear footsteps, coming this way!”

Through the dull haze of his senses, Genya’s mind flickered to alertness as a torrent of motion wove through the room. He blinked slowly, taking in the interior of the Kamado house as the blurry shapes sharpened into clarity bit by bit. It seemed Tanjiro had stayed by his side all day, but the Sun Hashira shot to his feet at Zenitsu’s news in an instant, sandals pounding over the wood floor as he ran to the front door. Nezuko emerged from the kitchen with Inosuke, who had bits of rice on his face, and all went out onto the porch. 

He’d been slipping in and out of consciousness all day. His rapidly deteriorating condition left him bound to the futon and incapable of even sitting up by himself. His skin, somehow blazing hot and freezing cold and always, always sweaty, lay bare except for some underclothes around his hips and the bandages around his head and torso as he wallowed in misery under the futon.

Relief broke in his throbbing head. At last, Yushiro had arrived.

Ah… Genya thought, a slight smile creasing the edges of his face. I won’t die. I can keep my promise to Tanjiro after all.

The others began shouting greetings as the demon emerged from the woods and into view, and Tanjiro peeled off from the others to meet him.

“Look at that umbrella,” Zenitsu said, “Do you think he carried it all the way with him?”

“Yeah, it’s sunny today,” Nezuko answered, “He would have had to. He took a big risk coming all the way out here in the middle of the day.” 

Genya cringed, guilt worming its way back into his heart. He should have called sooner.

“He’s got a cat!” Inosuke shouted, “Kitty!”

“Chachamaru!” Nezuko exclaimed happily, “Oh, I’m so glad to see him again!”

“The cat’s a demon, Inosuke, remember,” Zenitsu tried, but was cut off by the sound of pounding footsteps. “Aaaand, he’s gone. Oh well. Even as a demon, it’s not like the cat can hurt anyone, right?” 

“Probably.” Nezuko said, with what sounded like a shrug. “Haha, can you imagine, the demons come back, but this time they’re all cats?”

“Well, they’d be a lot easier to fight…” Zenitsu considered.

The sound of Tanjiro’s ceaseless chatter drew nearer, as did the sound of Inosuke’s grating laughter and the mewling of a cat. Footsteps sounded on the dirt outside, then thunked up the wooden porch and into the house. Genya looked up as the golden evening sunlight washed through the house once more, and the demon Yushiro stepped into the room. 

He was covered, head to toe. Where his normal clothes didn’t cover the skin of his head and hands, he’d wrapped lengths of yellow silk in tight overlapping bundles to keep the sun away. He carried a yellow parasol in his right hand, no doubt for the same reason, stuck with a few eye-shaped sigils of his Blood Demon Art to help him pass through human-populated areas unseen. Only his lilac-colored eyes remained uncovered, and they lit on Genya instantly.

“-went down the mountain earlier and got him some medicine,” Tanjiro was saying now, following in Yushiro’s wake and speaking in a ceaseless stream as he brought the demon up to speed, “but we don’t know how this all works, we don’t know what’s best or-”

“What’s best,” Yushiro said, staring Genya down. “Is me . You should have called days ago. What were you thinking, waiting until it got this bad?” 

“...I know…” Genya wheezed. “I’m… sorry… didn’t realize…”

Nezuko had closed the door after they’d all entered, ever mindful of sunlight’s effect on a demon’s skin, and Yushiro began peeling away his yellow silk wrappings. Inosuke sat down on the other end of the room, much more interested in the calico cat that had crawled into his lap.

“I hope you don’t mind Chachamaru,” Yushiro said, glancing at the cat as he unwound the silk around his hands. “When I told him where I was going, he wouldn’t stop meowing until I let him come with me.”

“It’s no problem at all!” Nezuko smiled, sitting next to Inosuke and scratching the cat under its chin, “I’m glad to see him again!”

“Hmm.” Yushiro said with what sounded like a smile, then pulled the hood from his mint-green hair and turned to Tanjiro. “You said this started last night?” 

“Yes.” Tanjiro nodded quickly. “At about one-thirty in the morning.”

Tanjiro looked weary, shoulders hunched and slight bags under his reddened eyes. Shit. He hadn’t noticed. Had he been worried about Genya since he’d woken everyone that morning, watching over him while Genya just slept like a useless lump? 

Genya bit his lip, guilt creeping into him once more. 

“Hmm…” Yushiro put his hand to his chin, scrutinizing Genya’s frame. “It was wise to bandage him up, if only to keep him in one piece. He might have split in two by now.”

Tanjiro’s face paled. He looked at Genya, eyes wide with a kind of concerned horror. 

“Ah well.” Yushiro sighed, then rolled up his sleeve. “Let’s get this over with. Who wants to do the honors?” 

“Oh! Oh! Me!” Inosuke raised his hands and shot to his feet. The cat spilled out of his lap, but trotted contentedly over to Nezuko, rubbing against her legs. 

“You want the hand cut off, right?” Inosuke continued, reaching for his serrated katanas, “I can do that, easy!” 

“No, that’ll hurt too much.” Tanjiro waved his right hand and shook his head. “Your breathing style is just too strong, Inosuke. Yushiro’s doing us a huge favor, we don’t want him to suffer.” 

Inosuke huffed and rolled his eyes, but seemed happy to be complimented. 

“Pain means nothing to me.” Yushiro said flatly, arm still bared and extended. 

“Even so,” Tanjiro said, meeting the demon’s eye. “Please, allow me.” 

Tanjiro walked to where his own katana had been mounted on the wall, and took it reverently from its pegs. He unsheathed it in one fluid motion, the sound of sliding steel whispering through the air. The flaming hilt guard gleamed gold in the light of the setting sun. He took up a square stance, closed his eyes, then took a long, even breath.

“Water Breathing, Fifth Form:” Tanjiro muttered, then faced the demon with open eyes. “Blessed Rain After the Drought.”

It was over in a flash. A shine of steel. A shimmer like a thousand water droplets over the surface of a lake. A slicing through flesh and tendon and bone, and a pale, golden haze through the window. Hardly a drop of blood as the hand, severed at the wrist, fell to the floor with a thud. Genya’s eyes widened in appreciation. Even battered and war-torn as he was, the swordsmanship of the Sun Hashira was something to behold. 

He marveled at the beauty of the technique. He often forgot that Tanjiro had started off as a Water Breathing user, before unlocking the secrets of Sun Breathing from his late father’s Hinokami Kagura. Talent and skill seemed to ooze from his very presence. He even recalled an instance of Tanjiro using a burst of Thunder Breathing speed in the Swordsmith Village, learned from nothing but the barest of instruction from Zenitsu. 

If I’d had even a scrap of that talent, Genya thought, old inferiority rising within him, If I could use breaths, any kind at all… Maybe I wouldn’t be in this mess. 

He blinked back tears, thinking of all the people he could have saved if he’d just been a little faster. A little stronger. Muichiro. Himejima. Miss Kanroji and Obanai. Everyone. 

A lot of things might be different…

Yushiro looked down at the stump of his wrist, eyes widening in surprise as Tanjiro cleaned and sheathed his katana.

“Huh. That hardly even stings. Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome.” Tanjiro smiled, preening a little at the praise before scooping up the severed hand and kneeling at Genya’s side. “Now here, open up.” 

Genya complied. Tanjiro placed Yushiro’s hand in his mouth, bloody side first, no doubt to save the precious drops of demon blood to do their healing work within him. 

It tasted just as he remembered. Flat. Sterile. Without the potent, rotting malice of demons born by Muzan’s own hand. No, there was just cold blood and skin and bone and tendon and muscle, tainted with a hollow, almost chalky or metallic taste of something not quite natural. 

None of the others looked away as he chewed. Zenitsu looked horrified. Inosuke bore an intensely interested grin, laughing loudly as bones crunched and knuckles popped. As before, Yushiro didn’t react in the slightest. Genya’s face burned in embarrassment, and he wished they’d look away, but became distracted by other things. 

It started in his core. Cell by cell, seam by seam, vessel by vessel, the festering slice separating the left half of his body from his right began to knit together. The scar puckered, pulling tight and strong over his skin once more. His writhing organs sorted themself out, and his lungs inhaled, deep and pure. With a jolt, he found he could once again feel sensation in his hands and feet. He hadn’t even realized they’d gone numb.  

His hair lengthened, the black strands curling to yellow points. His eyes buzzed and burned as his pupils split into the eyes of a predator, pupils slitting to sharp night vision and ears stretching into points. His gums ached as his canines lengthened, sharp and strong in his mouth. Muscle coiled and bunched and compounded upon itself throughout his body. Even his spine extended, adding a few inches to his height. His fingers flexed, claws digging into the futon. 

And, that hunger. Deep. Quiet. Pulsing in the back of his mind. Always there, always watching. 

It wasn’t a hunger for food, not exactly. Not flesh and blood as typical demons ate, nor the stir-fry Zenitsu had put together earlier, the grease of which still lay fragrant on the pan in the kitchen. No, this was something more. An ache. A desire, dark and burning. 

His gaze flicked to Tanjiro. 

Hunger. 

It wasn’t as painful a transformation as he was used to. Yushiro’s blood made it so. Still, a transformation was never a pleasant experience. 

Or, it hadn’t been before. Now, the transformation meant life. The pain meant he wouldn’t fall apart. The curse he brought upon himself was the only thing that could sustain him anymore. He writhed beneath the blanket, strange growls coming from his throat and his teeth grinding hard together, but he bore it with a determined patience. This was worth it. He would live. He would stay in one piece. He wouldn't have to worry anyone anymore.

He grunted. His head cleared, and his all-consuming pain steadily drained away. He sat up, then stepped out of the futon, rising to his full height. 

Zenitsu eyed him cautiously. Inosuke’s face lit up, and he lurched forward to try and wrestle immediately, but Nezuko held him back. Yushiro eyed him appraisingly, and Tanjiro positively glowed. 

“It worked!” The Sun Pillar shouted, barreling into Genya and burying his face in his chest as he wrapped him in a tight hug, “You’re okay, you’re alive! ” 

Even Tanjiro’s limp left arm had found the strength to wrap around Genya’s frame. His shoulders started shaking, and soon warm tears wet the bandages across his newly-healed chest. Genya paled, remembering he was still mostly naked aside from bandages and a wrap around his waist, but Tanjiro didn’t seem to mind in the slightest.

Hesitant for many reasons, Genya slowly wrapped his own arms around Tanjiro’s shoulders. 

Am I hurting him? He thought, mind racing as his right arm gingerly grazed over Tanjiro’s left shoulder. I’m stronger as a demon, I’ve gotta be careful, God and Buddha above, let me not hurt him…

His prayers seemed answered, as Tanjiro increased his own pressure, nearly crushing his ribs but bringing a delightful warmth into Genya’s reformed core, as any kind of pressure always did. 

“I’m so glad…” Tanjiro muttered, “You really scared me. It felt like we were so close to losing you.” 

The edge of his hunger abated, receding into warmth as Tanjiro melted into his arms. He took a long, deep breath, savoring the feel of a body against his own.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Genya affirmed, taking a chance and squeezing Tanjiro a bit tighter to him, then looking over at Yushiro. “And I’ll be more careful. I promise.” 

“You’d better be.” Yushiro said, his pupils sharp as Tanjiro finally broke away and wiped his eyes. “You are Lady Tamayo’s legacy now. Do not forget it.” 

Genya nodded stiffly, rebuking his old self-deprecation. Too much had gone into his continued survival. He owed it to everyone to keep living, if only to see their work paid off. 

“Let’s see…” Yushiro thought aloud, taking a step back to survey Genya’s whole state. “It’s been a little more than a month and a half since the last time you ate my flesh, right?” 

“Um.” Genya blinked, dimly thinking back to that morning he’d woken up at the Butterfly Mansion after the final battle. “I think so?”

“Alright. Now that we know how long your body lasts, we can set up a schedule.” Yushiro nodded. “I will visit you once every forty-five days. About eight times a year. Does that sound good?”

“Yes.” Genya bowed his head. “Thank you, Yushiro.”

“Thank you, Yushiro!” Tanjiro echoed, “And thank you so much for coming on such short notice!”

“It’s fine.” Yushiro nodded, “I move faster than humans do anyway.”

“What are you doing these days?” Nezuko asked. She’d scooped up Chachamaru at some point, and pet the cat as it purred contentedly in her arms. Yushiro looked surprised at the question. Surprised that anyone would take any interest in his own life. 

“I’ve… picked up some paints, recently…” He admitted, glancing away. “I’m working on a portrait of Lady Tamayo. It’s coming along nicely.”

“That’s amazing, I didn’t know you were an artist!” Tanjiro exclaimed with a smile, “We’d love to come and see it when it’s done!”

Yushiro looked surprised again, but cracked a slight smile. Somehow, this one looked genuine. 

“I’d like that. I’d like Lady Tamayo’s memory to be preserved.” 

“She was that demon lady, right?” Inosuke asked from his place on the floor, a finger rubbing the inside of his ear. “The one who worked with the Insect Pillar?”

“Yes.” Tanjiro said, his face glowing with admiration. “She and Lady Shinobu, along with Yushiro here, made the drugs that turned Muzan human and let us win. They saved Nezuko, as well as me and Genya. None of us would be here today without them.” 

“Huh.” Inosuke tilted his head. “And now, you three are the last demons on earth. You know, we’re supposed to kill you if you turn evil.”

Yushiro blinked, a little taken aback. Genya frowned, meeting Tanjiro’s eye. This wasn’t exactly how he’d wanted to break the news to their only demon ally. 

“Inosuke!” Zenitsu snapped, then cast a wary glance at Yushiro and whispered into the Beast Pillar’s ear. “We just lost the element of surprise, dumbass!”

“Excuse me?” Yushiro raised an eyebrow. 

“It’s not what it sounds like!” Tanjiro waved his hands apologetically. 

“Well, yes it is.” Nezuko winced. “...It’s kind of exactly what Inosuke said.” 

Yushiro crossed his arms but didn’t say anything. Nezuko put Chachamaru down. The cat crawled back into Inosuke's lap. Nezuko took a breath, then began, speaking with all the presence and authority of a Hashira. 

“This may not be easy to hear, but it is the truth. The Demon Slayer Corps recognizes your sacrifices and service during the final battle against Muzan. You are a treasured ally. We could not have won the day without you, and are eternally grateful.”

Yushiro nodded slowly. Cautiously. Like a cornered animal. Nezuko went on.

“However, we also understand that as a demon, you represent a continued threat to humanity.”
Yushiro’s eyes narrowed to slits. Nezuko didn’t flinch. Genya’s stomach twisted in unease.

“You and Chachamaru have been allowed to continue living on my own insurance. If you ever turn, if you ever eat a living person, it is my duty as the Blood Pillar of the Demon Slayer Corps to hunt you down and kill you, then commit seppuku, just as my brother swore on my behalf when I was a demon.” 

Yushiro stood silent, stunned. Slowly, a crease of anger came into his brow. The twist of unease in Genya’s gut threatened to spill over into full-blown panic, and he looked to Tanjiro for direction, but the Sun Pillar simply held out his hand in reassurance, letting his sister do what she needed to do.

“This is the way it has to be.” Nezuko said, not giving an inch. 

 “...So.” Yushiro growled. “After all that. After everything we’ve gone through, you still don’t trust me? I’m still just a demon to you, huh? Have I not proven myself enough?”

Inosuke looked up from petting the cat. Zenitsu swiveled his glance between Yushiro and Nezuko anxiously.

“Do you have any idea how much it meant to Lady Tamayo…” Yushiro started, a dangerous glint coming into his eye. “When you saw her as a human?”

The Blood Hashira finally gave a little ground.

“Yushiro, I made the vow because I trust you.” She said, sliding back into a more relaxed posture, putting a gentle hand on Yushiro’s shoulder. He glanced down at it in disdain, but didn’t speak. Nezuko went on.

“I know you would never hurt anybody. But you have to understand, most of the other corps members don’t even know your name, let alone who you are. They’ve fought demons all their lives and wouldn’t give you a chance, no matter what the Master said. But they do trust me. They trust my brother. Having us vouch for you like this keeps you safe.”

Yushiro remained silent, but his shoulders seemed to relax a little. 

“They trust us, and we trust you. You’re our friend, and we would never let anyone hurt you. We know who you are on the inside, demon or not.”

“A lot has changed, in a very short time.” Tanjiro spoke up. “You have to give them a chance to get to know you. Most of them have never known a friendly demon, you know.” 

“I wouldn’t call myself friendly, ” Yushiro said, curling his nose up in disgust. “But… very well. I see the wisdom in this.”

“So… You’re not gonna go crazy and eat people?” Inosuke asked, hands still hovering above the hilts of his swords. 

“The thought of eating a human disgusts me.” Yushiro practically retched. “No, Chachamaru and I are fine with just a bit of the donated blood we get at the clinic each month. We aren’t exactly powerful demons, you know. Still,” Yushiro put a hand to his chin with a slight smile. “Demon King Yushiro… It has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

Static crackled through the air. The hair on the back of Genya’s neck stood on end. Zenitsu had somehow snatched his sword on the other side of the room and returned back to his position in front of Nezuko in an instant, the keen yellow steel shining like lightning as it pointed toward the demon’s throat. His amber eyes held no pity. 

“Kidding!” Yushiro exclaimed, raising his hands and taking a step back. “I was kidding, it was just a joke! Put the sword down!”

Zenitsu’s eyes narrowed a touch, but he seemed to hear the truth in Yushiro’s words. He sheathed his sword, then stepped to lean back against the wall.

“Please, everyone,” Genya waved his hands, mindful of his bigger frame and keeping his shoulders hunched. “Let’s all calm down. Yushiro, why don’t you sit down? You can… uh… tell us more about your painting?”

Yushiro cast a bewildered glare in Zenitsu’s direction, but rolled his eyes and let it go.

“...Very well,” he conceded, leaning his yellow parasol against the wall and moving deeper into the house. He sat on the floor and withdrew a sketchbook from his deep pockets and opened it, flipping through several sketches of the same beautiful woman. His voice seemed to soften, and a note of artist’s pride came into it as he spoke. 

“You see, the initial problem was the pose. Dare I paint her from head on, emphasizing the glow of her eyes? Or from the side, to focus more on the shine of her hair? It was a difficult question. I plan to do more someday, but for this first painting, I decided on a three-quarter tilt, with eyes looking slightly over the viewer’s shoulder, as though she is looking into the future. I think it suits her nicely.”

The hours wore on. Despite the brief scuffle, Yushiro seemed to genuinely enjoy spending time with the Kamados. Both were a rapt audience, asking him many questions about his artistic process and about life with Lady Tamayo before they’d all met. Zenitsu and Inosuke got over their initial wariness of the demon soon enough, (they’d traveled for years with Nezuko as a demon, after all,) and after much pestering, Yushiro even let Inosuke chop off a hand as well. 

“Here, eat it!” Inosuke said proudly, shoving the bloody, limp limb in Genya’s face. 

“Uh, no thanks.” Genya winced. “I’m already a demon right now, I don’t need it.” 

Inosuke puffed out a cheek, his eyebrows coming together in a frown. 

“Thank you though,” Genya said quickly, to curb the coming tantrum. “That’s very nice of you.” 

“Eating weird stuff makes you strong,” Inosuke straightened with a toothy grin. “We can’t have you getting weak again!”

“...Yeah.” Genya nodded. “We can’t.”

Inosuke nodded, slipped on his boar mask, then picked up the hand and dashed out the door with a mad cackle. 

“Where’s he going with that?” Yushiro asked with a baleful glance, the nerves and tendons of a new hand already creeping up from the stump of his wrist. 

“Best to not ask.” Zenitsu sighed, then turned back to the sketchbook. “Hey, can you show me how you do the eyes? They’re so lifelike.” He slid a slight glance at Nezuko, blushed a bit, then looked back to the paper. “I’d like to give it a try sometime.” 

“Sure,” Yushiro said, flipping to a blank page and making a few scribbles. “You start with the basic shape, see? Then remember, the eye is still a three-dimensional object, you have to use lights and shadows to make it so on paper…”

Tanjiro smiled, then met Genya’s eye. Genya nodded with a slight tilt of his head to the door. Tanjiro nodded back, excused himself from the conversation and rose, and the pair stepped out into the twilight air. 

“Ah,” Tanjiro smiled as they stepped onto the short porch, sliding the door shut behind them. “I love these warm nights.” 

“It is nice.” Genya nodded. Fireflies danced in the forest and rose up from the grass, swaying like tiny bits of flickering lightning through the warm air. A soft breeze rolled over the mountain, rustling the treetops and making their long branches look as though they were painting the sky the deep reds and pale yellows and dark blues that signified the end of sunset. Genya had caught the burning rays of the sun as a demon once or twice before and quickly learned his lesson, but the sun had already set behind the horizon, leaving only these last bleeding colors.

There was nothing to fear anymore. 

“I wanted to give you something…” Genya said, stepping off the porch and motioning for Tanjiro to come with him. Tanjiro followed a step behind, tilting his head slightly in curiosity.

“I’ll be a demon for a little while longer, so…” Genya led him around to the west side of the front door, where the graveyard lay. “I thought I could make something special for you.”

Tanjiro looked at Genya, eyes lingering on all the demonized parts of him for the barest of instances, then looked over to the graves of his family. His eyes widened with understanding. 

“What kind of flowers would you like to give them?” Genya asked, his voice shy and low. God and Buddha above, he prayed he wasn’t overstepping here.

Tanjiro thought for a moment, then smiled, a note of determination coming into his grin.

“Blue spider lilies, please.”

Genya’s mouth split open, large fangs bare to the night air in a ferocious smirk. He cracked his knuckles. 

“Blue spider lily it is.” 

He brought his right hand to his mouth and bit down hard until he tasted the iron of his blood. For a brief moment, he wondered if he could transform himself by consuming his own demonized flesh in a feat of eternal autocannibalism, but decided it probably wouldn’t work and turned back to the task at hand. Blood welled up where his fangs had sunk into his flesh, and he let it run hot and thick for a moment, dripping down to his fingertips. 

He flicked his fingers out in a wide arc, sending dozens of tiny droplets over the earthen mounds. As he focused he could feel the bits of his scattered DNA as though they were still a part of him, seeping into the earth. He smiled. He could do this. 

Blood Demon Art… he thought, flexing his hand and splaying his fingers wide. The power coursed from his command, a palpable buzzing through his skin that resounded through the drops of blood on the grass and over the graves. Slowly, his blood transformed. Slowly, it took root. 

Tanjiro watched in awe as the first leaves speared into the sky, long and thin like the blades of swords. Buds sprouted from the base of these, supported by long stalks that lifted them a foot or two above the ground. Genya grit his teeth at the sustained effort, but pressed a bit further. Might as well give the man a show. 

At his mental command, every single bud burst open at the same instant in bursts of vivid blue and snaking spidery petals, like trails of fireworks extinguishing in the sky, but these lights didn’t go out. No, they seemed to glow all the more beautiful and ethereal in the rising moonlight, curved petals gleaming like pearls at the bottom of the ocean. 

In less than twenty seconds, it was done. All six graves were adorned with the very thing Muzan had been searching for for centuries, the very thing he could never have, now that he was gone for good. 

Well, possibly the very same thing. He didn’t know if the lilies swaying in the night before him were truly and biologically the same fabled flower. It had been a bit of a challenge molding his Blood Demon Art to a flower he’d never actually seen, (he’d just modeled it after a normal red spider lily, wished for blue, and hoped for the best,) but it seemed to have paid off. Tanjiro’s eyes shone with wonder, an open-mouthed grin of amazement on his face. 

“That was incredible!” Tanjiro exclaimed, “Genya, you’re incredible! I can’t believe you actually did it!”

“It was no trouble,” Genya smiled, though leaned back against the outer wall of the house, suddenly feeling rather lightheaded. Hmm. Maybe it’d be best to lay off the magic demon powers while in his current state of disrepair, for the most part. “I owed you. I hope you like it.” 

“I love it!” Tanjiro exalted, then turned his jubilant smile to the first grave in the row. His eyes softened. “My mom would have loved it too. Thank you, Genya.” 

“Anytime.” Genya nodded, secretly hoping Tanjiro wouldn’t ask it again of him anytime soon as his head pounded. 

Tanjiro’s beautiful smile washed over him again, then he turned back to the flowers, a softness coming into his happy gaze. Genya joined his attention, watching the results of his handiwork sway in the breeze.

His heart skipped a beat as something strange happened.

He thought it was a dream. A mental hallucination, brought upon by overexertion of his demon powers, but no, it was true. Tanjiro’s fingers brushed against Genya’s palm for a moment, then before he knew it, the Sun Pillar’s warm and calloused right hand slid into the Moon Pillar’s left. 

Genya stiffened. His breath caught in his throat, and he didn’t dare look down. A beat passed, then another. Tanjiro’s hand stayed warm and strong in his, far too long for it to be a simple friendly gesture.

Hoping against hope, he closed his eyes, and gave a slight squeeze. 

A moment passed, followed by another. Genya’s heart sank. 

Then, Tanjiro squeezed back. 

He turned to Genya, his face lit by the rising moon and his eyes sparkling like rubies. Genya swallowed hard, turning to face Tanjiro in return. Tanjiro’s eyes met his, darting from one to the other as a curious expression came over his face. He didn’t let go of Genya’s hand.

“Genya… I-”

“Tanjiro?” Zenitsu called from the house. “Where are you? Yushiro is leaving!”

“Ah, the sun is down, of course,” Tanjiro’s eyes widened in realization. He took his hand from Genya’s, slapping it against his forehead. “He can travel much faster now that it’s night.” 

“...Of course…” Genya echoed, his hand lingering in the air for a moment before dropping back down to his side, following the Sun Pillar back around the house to bid farewell to the demon that had saved his life. 

It was nothing. It had to be nothing. Genya couldn’t allow it to be more than nothing, so nothing it would remain. He grit his teeth and filed the moment away, deep within the confines of his heart with the rest of his stranger desires, and put on a smile. He was here, with his friends. He was alive, and would be for another forty-five days, at least. Of that he could be grateful. He couldn’t dare ask for anything more. 

“Take care now,” Yushiro said to him as they bid farewell, “Let me know if anything goes wrong. I’ll be here within the day.” 

“Thank you.” Genya bowed low at the hip, “I owe you everything. I am forever grateful.” 

“You are Lady Tamayo’s legacy, remember. If you fail, I fail.” Yushiro said, the eerie violet points of his eyes boring into Genya’s own, but he sighed and shifted his face into a smile. “Still, it is good to see you in better spirits, Shinazugawa.”

“It’s good to be better.” Genya nodded with a laugh.

“Good.” Yushiro said, prodding him rather firmly right on the tender scar running down his chest. Genya grunted and glared, feeling that the demon had done it on purpose. “Make sure you stay that way. Don’t cut it this close again.” 

Genya nodded, remembering the blinding pain he’d awoken to only that morning. He wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.

Yushiro and the Kamado siblings said their goodbyes, and Genya took the opportunity to squat down and pet Chachamaru, who had curled around his legs in the way that cats do whenever they want attention. Chachamaru purred contentedly as Genya pet his head, and he smiled. He’d always liked cats. There were a few strays that he and Himejima had put out milk for up on their mountain. He hoped they were still doing okay without the stalwart Stone Pillar to keep their bellies full. 

He joined the others at the doorway, waving Yushiro off as he, Chachamaru, and the yellow parasol disappeared into the forest. Once he was out of sight Tanjiro led everyone to the graves to show off what Genya had grown, and Nezuko pronounced herself delighted. Inosuke demanded he do it again so that he could see, but the weak demonization Yushiro’s hand had provided was wearing off, and slowly he morphed back into the unmagical and much-weakened body of his natural state. 

They washed up, bid each other good night, and went to bed. Slowly, late conversation died and the Kamado household drifted off to sleep.

Secretly, his right hand held on to the remnants of Tanjiro’s warmth. The roughness of his callouses. The pure love of his soul. 

Genya sighed, sniffed, and closed his eyes. 

_____

Hungry. 

So, so hungry. 

He tore through the dirt, tossing clods of earth and rocks and the roots of crumpled plants aside, digging into the mound with a fervent ferocity. He could smell it. He could practically taste it, there beneath the ground. Fangs gleamed in the moonlight, dripping with saliva as his tongue lashed back and forth like a wild snake. He was so close. He was so damn hungry.  

There, at last, his claws struck against something that wasn’t dirt or rocks. A tremor of glee tore through him, almost as strong as the hunger burning within. He dug and ripped and pulled and dug some more, until finally, the bone slid out from the earth and patches of rotting cloth. 

The bone had yellowed with age, but was still streaked with red around the vascular points of what had once been joints and muscular connective tissue. He inhaled deeply, already salivating at the tantalizing aroma. He held it in both hands, anticipation welling within him as he brushed some dirt from its surface, then decided to hell with it and shoved a knobby end into his mouth with a sharp crunch of strong fangs. 

The bone itself was fine, a bit old, but tasty enough as far as bones went, but the marrow. Oh, the marrow, pouring into his mouth like rich, savory ichor, stronger than any wine and sweeter than any honey. To think, there was still a whole skeleton after this little femur, then five more after that! What luck, what great luck indeed! He sucked and slurped at the thing, mouth making such an ungodly noise that he didn’t hear the footsteps on the grass until the figure behind him spoke.

“...Genya?” 

Slowly, the demon turned. Tanjiro stood there, his face a mask of horror. He shook his head and took a step back, jaw dropped in utter disbelief.

“What…” Tanjiro began, eyes flicking to the desecrated mound behind him, the toppled and trampled stalks of blue spider lilies, the cracked femur in the demon’s hand, and the marrow leaking from his mouth. His voice trembled.

“What have you done?” 

His hunger, that monstrous force like an ever-expanding cavity in his gut, blocking out all reason or sensibility, went notably silent. 

Genya blinked, brain confused and muddled as he came back to his senses. He shook his head and looked around. When had he come outside? What was this odd taste in his mouth? Why was there so much dirt on his clothes, and what was he doing in this pit? 

Worst of all, why was Tanjiro looking at him like that?

No breeze stirred the air. No sound came from the forest. The blue spider lilies he’d grown mere hours ago lay flattened and wilted around him. He stood in the recently-exhumed grave at the end of the line, clutching the femur of little Rokuta, the baby of the Kamado family, in his claws. 

He dropped the bone as though it were a flame, staring down at his own hands in horror. Something was wrong. He couldn’t have done this. He couldn’t have, there was no way. 

And yet. His hands were streaked with dirt. A bone lay on the earth. The taste of marrow pooled in the back of his throat, smooth and viscous.

“Tanjiro,” He started, stepping out of the hole as his hands trembled, “I don’t know what happened, I don’t-”

“You… Ate him…” Tanjiro said, his ruby and cracked-pink eyes numb and wide, staring at the little bone Genya had dropped. “You ate my brother’s bones.”

The Sun Pillar collapsed to his knees, staring in utter disbelief at the scene before him. Slowly, tears welled in his eyes, then streaked down the sides of his face. 

“I didn’t mean to!” Genya insisted, trying to shamble out of the grave. “Please, you have to believe me! I don’t know what happened! I don’t know how I got out here!”

The loose dirt spilled under his foot, sending him skidding back down into the pit. A strangled kind of sob escaped his throat.

“ Please, Tanjiro! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry! ”

Finally, Tanjiro met his gaze. The warmth, the sunlight, the love that always ringed the edges of his jewel-like gaze was gone. Now it held nothing but cold, clear hatred.

“I should have known. You’re nothing but a monster.” 

A sword flashed in his right hand. The same hand that Genya had held, mere hours ago. His jaw dropped open, speechless as Tanjiro advanced.

“I’m sorry I didn’t do this sooner.” 

The katana swung in an arc of blooming fire. A scorching heat slashed over his body, and a whisper-thin slice chopped straight through his neck. 

_____

Genya gasped, lurching straight up from the floor. His heart pounded. His eyes rolled wildly, darting all around him as his hands grasped at his chest and neck and jaw. 

He was safe. He was alive. His head was still attached to his body. His head was attached and he was not in his demon form. 

A nightmare. Just a nightmare, like before. That was all. 

He breathed deep, swallowed hard, then turned to look down to where Tanjiro lay. The Sun Pillar hadn’t moved, a soft smile over his handsome face as he slept serenely. Genya let his breath go in a low sigh, but something in his guts still wormed about with anxiety. He had to be sure. He glanced across the room, where silvery moonlight pooled in a square on the floor from the far window. Quietly, he lifted the blanket off of himself, and stood up. 

Outside the window, the graves of the Kamado family remained pristine and undisturbed. The blue spider lilies he’d grown swayed slightly back and forth, dancing in the moonlight. Little Rokuta’s grave at the end had not been touched. No taste lingered at the back of his throat but that of his own mouth, and a bit of the herb bundle Tanjiro had made him scarf down once Yushiro had left. 

“...Genya?” A voice came from behind him. 

He froze, then turned. Tanjiro had risen from his futon and crossed the room to stand behind him, either too light on his feet for Genya to hear, or he’d been too distracted to keep alert, making sure the monstrous figments of his dreams were not the truth. 

“What are you doing?” Tanjiro asked, blearily rubbing sleep from his cracked right eye. “You’re not hurting right now, are you?” 

“...No, I’m alright,” Genya said quietly, grateful that it was the truth. He had been demonized recently after all. He had roughly a month and a half before he fell apart again, so his body was in the best possible shape it could be. Aches still flared in his core every so often, but this level of pain was manageable. 

Tanjiro smiled, then joined him looking out the window. 

“They’re beautiful. Thank you again for making them. You really honored us.” 

“...Yeah. It’s no problem.” 

A thrill went up his spine as once again, Tanjiro slipped his hand into his. Genya’s heart thudded. Slowly, carefully, fully aware that his heart was plain on his face, Genya turned and met his eye. 

“Come on, let’s go back to bed. There will be plenty of time to look at them in the morning.”

“...Alright.” Genya said, the barest of smiles coming back to his face. 

He let Tanjiro lead him back to their space on the floor. They got back into their futons quiet and careful, as not to disturb the others, then drifted back to sleep. 

Just a dream… Genya thought, letting unconsciousness take him once more.

_____

The next morning, breakfast was interrupted as the oldest crow Genya had ever seen flew through the window and smacked against the far wall. 

“Gah!” Zenitsu shrieked, the riceball he’d been eating shooting from his hand and landing on the floor behind him. “What the hell!”

“Ooh! Seconds!” Inosuke shouted, leaping to his feet and bounding toward the hapless creature, falling short as Nezuko’s hand whipped out and latched around his ankle, sending him sprawling across the floor. 

“It’s Kanzaburo!” Tanjiro realized, shooting up to collect the blindsided bird as Inosuke and Nezuko brawled on the floor. 

“No biting, no biting!” Inosuke was screeching as Nezuko sank her teeth into his calf. 

“Ow! Hey, that goes for you too, pig head!” Nezuko retorted, pulling her heel from Inosuke’s jaw and driving it into his throat instead. “Stop trying to eat the crows!”

“Get him Nezuko, get him!” Zenitsu cheered from the sidelines. “Oh, he’s going for the grapple, pin his arms!”

“You know this crow?” Genya raised an eyebrow as the ancient bird wheezed and coughed up a few black feathers. 

“He’s assigned to Giyuu-San.” Tanjiro smiled, gently righting the bird back on its two feet and smoothing out its wings, before reaching down to untie the message attached to its left foot. “He’s very old, and forgets things sometimes, but he still does a very good job! He got all the way here to us, didn’t he?”

Tanjiro gave the bird a happy pat on the head, which it seemed to enjoy, then he unrolled the scroll. His expression fell a little. 

“Hmm, by when this was dated, it should have arrived two weeks ago…” he whispered, cupping a hand over his mouth to keep Kanzaburo from hearing as the old bird toddled around the floor, “Looks like he did get a little confused…” 

Genya laughed, giving the creature a friendly scratch on the back of its head in the same spot that Hashibami liked. Tanjiro scanned the message quickly, his eyes lighting up as he passed the note to Genya.

“Isn’t that private?” Genya blinked, raising his hands. 

“Don’t worry, it’s for both of us!” 

Genya frowned, but looked down at the letter. 

Dear Tanjiro,

Thank you for writing to me so often. I enjoy your letters. Your life on Mount Kumotori sounds peaceful and rewarding, and very lively now that all the others are there with you and Nezuko. I’m glad. I hope the two of you are very happy. 

I’ve been talking a lot with Urokodaki-Sensei lately. He still wants to work as a cultivator, training up students in Water Breathing to preserve our legacy. He has asked me to provide him with an account of my own experiences with the technique, as well as my creation of the Eleventh Form, Dead Calm. I hope I can teach you that same technique someday, if you are still up to the art of swordsmanship. 

I am not as strong as I used to be. I’m grateful every day I no longer have to be as strong as I used to be. 

Losing my hand has made many things difficult, though surprisingly, swordplay has proven to be the lesser of my challenges. That’s the advantage of Water Breathing, as our master would say. You are only as strong as you are adaptable, and Water Breathing is easy to adapt, as you know. I hope you are doing well, without much use of your arm. Don’t let it discourage you. I personally see it as a badge of honor. You earned it, and I am very proud of you.

-Tomioka Giyuu

P.S. - I have taken up residence in the Wind Estate, with Shinazugawa Sanemi. Surprising, I know, but he reached out to me and invited me himself. It turns out, we have a lot more in common than either of us thought. I have much to tell you, better told in person.

The Wind Estate is much closer to Mount Kumotori than the Water Estate is. Please come and visit us here, any time you like. Sanemi would like me to include that his brother Genya is invited “more than you are, Kamado,” but rest assured you are welcome here. 

The pair of you should make a trip of it. I know Sanemi and I would both enjoy that very much. 

Until next time, Tanjiro.

Genya finished reading the letter, eyebrows high in surprise, then looked up, face-to-face with Tanjiro’s most eager expression. 

“So… what’s the plan?” He asked. 

“Pack your things,” Tanjiro grinned, “We’re going to the Wind Estate.” 

Chapter Text

They decided to leave the next morning, as much still had to be prepared for their departure. Tanjiro wrote back to Giyuu immediately, gladly accepting the invitation and apologizing for such a late response. He sent the letter with his own crow, also asking Matsuemon to guide Kanzaburo back to his master so he didn’t get lost again. The crow agreed readily enough, and the pair took off with a chatter of throaty caws and rustling feathers. 

They did their chores for the day and got a head start on the next day’s work as well, chopping down a tree for Inosuke to split into logs and sorting out the newest batch of charcoal for Nezuko and Zenitsu to sell when they next went into town. 

“Remember, don’t use the kiln until we get back,” Tanjiro said to Inosuke, “It could get dangerous.”

“Hah?” Inosuke protested, “What, you think I’m afraid of a little fire?” 

“No, but our roof is made of thatch,” Tanjiro laughed, raising his right hand with an appeasing smile, “It would burn pretty easily. Just focus on chopping up the logs, you’re really good at that!”

“Hmmph,” Inosuke sniffed, but seemed satisfied. 

“Don’t worry, we’ll keep an eye on him,” Nezuko said, then turned to Genya. “And I’ll be sure the sprouts in the back get watered.”

“Thank you,” Genya nodded. The winter cabbage seedlings he’d brought up were coming in nicely, he didn’t want them to die of thirst.

“When will you be back?” Zenitsu asked.

“Hmm, maybe in a week or two?” Tanjiro said, then looked over. “What do you think, Genya?” 

“I’m… not sure…” He admitted, scratching the side of his head. The shaved parts of his mohawk had grown out considerably over the last two months, making the sides of his head look black instead of gray. He needed a touchup, but for now, it was nice to run his fingers through the short fluff. “I don’t want us to overstay our welcome.” 

“It’ll be fine,” Tanjiro laughed, “Giyuu said we were welcome anytime!”

“I don’t think Giyuu is the one he’s worried about…” Zenitsu muttered. Genya looked down. The Thunder Pillar was right.

Was it really okay to just barge in on Sanemi like this? Things were better between them now, mostly, but still. The wording of the letter hadn’t exactly been a direct invitation, more a perfunctory politeness. A courtesy extended to friends and family, but not one likely expected to be immediately taken up. What if Sanemi was busy when they arrived? What if he wasn’t even there? 

What if he had changed his mind, and he didn’t want to see Genya after all?

It had been almost ten years since they’d lived under the same roof. Ten years since they’d shared the same meals and lived the same lives. That horrible night so long ago, when everything had changed…

Could things really come back together so easily? 

“Oh, don’t you worry,” Tanjiro said, “I can handle Shinazugawa.”

A slight frown came to Genya’s face at that. Odd. Tanjiro was a Pillar now, and on equal ground with Sanemi after fighting side by side with him against Muzan himself. Surely it was okay for him to use the Wind Pillar’s first name. And that note of hardness that carried in his voice on Genya’s surname… Slight, to be sure, but still unmistakably there. Hmmm…

Tanjiro’s eyes locked with Genya’s for a moment. He cast a fleet glance between the two of them, jumping from one eye to the other as if confirming that they were indeed both still there in Genya’s eye sockets, then turned back to Zenitsu. 

Ah. So Tanjiro was still mad about that time back during the Hashira training, when Sanemi had almost blinded Genya in an effort to force him to quit the corps. He’d have to clear that up, there was no reason for anyone to be upset anymore. There would be plenty of time on their journey to talk about it.

They finished up their tasks for the day, had a lovely dinner and prepped some rice balls for the road, packed their things, then went to sleep. In the morning they woke early, taking their medicine from Kanao and some bundles from the herbalist before changing into their travel clothes. They ate a quick breakfast, then set off. 

“Goodbye!” Zenitsu waved as Tanjiro and Genya stepped off the porch and onto the path leading down the mountain. “Travel safe!”

“Send a crow if you need anything!” Nezuko said. 

“Will do, thank you so much!” Tanjiro smiled, waving with his right hand. His left arm was bound up in a slight sling attached to the strap of his backpack, as he said it made it feel a little better. 

“Wait,” Inosuke said, turning to Nezuko and tugging on her sleeve. “Didn’t you have something to give him?”

“Oh! That’s right!” Nezuko’s pink eyes shot open, and she dashed back into the house. “Stay right there!”

Genya paused, looking after the Blood Pillar, then at Tanjiro, who gave him a knowing smile.

“...What’s going on?”  

“Oh, you’ll see,” Tanjiro said, a note of conspiring glee coming into his voice. 

Nezuko came out of the house a moment later, a cloth bundle under her arm. Genya’s eyes widened in alarm as he noted the colors and pattern. His mouth went dry, and his heart pounded harder in his chest. No, it couldn't be what he thought it was.

...Could it? 

“Here!” She said, proudly unrolling the garment. “I finally finished!” 

A full haori. A full Kamado family haori, no less, in black and purple checkerboard pattern. Genya’s pounding heart caught in his throat as the loose cloth fluttered a bit in the breeze. 

It was beautiful. 

“Do you like it?” Tanjiro asked, that coy smile still on his face. 

Genya extended a hand, gathering the garment into his grip. Tightly woven, yet with a breathable lightness to it. Soft as silk, yet sturdy and warm too. It would serve well on the cool air of the mountain, especially as the first rains of autumn had come, and summer seemed to be nearing its end.

“I love it.” Genya breathed, then met Nezuko’s gaze. “Is this… really for me?”

Tanjiro. Nezuko. Zenitsu and Inosuke. The Kamado’s, and the ones they considered closest to them in the world. The ones they considered family. Genya’s eyes flicked to the graves at the side of the house, heart stuttering a bit as his gaze landed on the last mound in the line. Little Rokuta. 

Did he deserve this? Could he really… Be counted among them?

“Duh,” Nezuko said, passing the garment off to him with a wide grin, “Who else wears purple?” 

“I’d wear purple if you made it Nezuko!” Zenitsu shouted, his yellow form casually seething with jealousy a few paces away. 

“Thank you,” Genya said, bringing the garment to his chest. Tears stung in his eyes, and he hurriedly blinked them away. “You have no idea what this means to me.” 

Nezuko’s gaze softened, and her smile turned to a quiet kind of understanding. She looked almost like an ethereal cherry blossom spirit, her dark hair spilling over her shoulders and her eyes sparkling in the sunlight she'd waited so long to touch again. She stepped forward, wrapping her arms around him in a hug. Genya stiffened for a moment, then relaxed, leaning into her embrace and wrapping his arms around her back, his left hand still clutching tight to the haori. Beyond them, Zenitsu’s face darkened to pure hatred, but Genya didn’t care.

“I know you’re just visiting,” Nezuko said, leaning her head on his shoulder, then looking up at his face. “But it’s been really nice having you here. Like having another big brother. I hope you can stay for a while longer.” 

“Thank you.” Genya smiled, then glanced at Tanjiro from the corner of his eye. “I hope so too.” 

Nezuko followed his gaze, then smiled. 

A secret smile. 

A knowing smile. 

A smile that didn’t have much place in the current circumstance. Genya’s eyebrows flickered in confusion, then his heart dropped to his feet as she leaned up and whispered into his ear.

“Take good care of him for me.” 

She stepped away, giving him an inconspicuous wink and a little finger wave. Zenitsu gave him a death glare, smiled broadly at Nezuko as she took his hand again, then shot him another dirty look over his shoulder as she led him back toward the house. Genya stared after her, jaw dropped in wonder. 

She knew?

All this time, all the secret times Nezuko had caught his face reddening, caught him in Tanjiro’s embrace, caught him watching Tanjiro speaking or working or laughing with a wistful smile on his mouth, she’d known all along? 

He looked down at the cloth in his hands, his heart quivering. Nezuko knew his deepest, darkest secret, and had still made him this haori? The Blood Pillar knew he had shameful, irresponsible, and impure feelings towards her own brother, and she still wanted him to be a part of their family? 

Take good care of him for me…

She… accepted him? 

More than that, she approved of him as a match for her brother? 

It wasn’t done. Two men couldn’t love each other, it simply was not done. Genya knew his mother had loved him, but he wasn’t sure if even she would accept this part of him. And here was Nezuko, bright and positive, welcoming the news as easily as a change in the weather. Accepting him, all of him, in a way that he’d never thought possible. 

It was not done, and yet…

Genya’s lower jaw trembled. He flung the haori around himself, arms easily slipping into the wide sleeves and its rim collecting nicely around his mid-thighs. He raised his arms, looking around the garment in wonder. A perfect fit. 

He smiled at Nezuko, broad and genuine, and gave a simple, discreet nod. She mirrored the gesture, an expression of sly amusement on her face. 

“Wow Genya,” Tanjiro grinned as his eyes lit up, “That looks really good on you!” 

“Y-you think so?” Genya said, certain his cheeks were flushing a little at the compliment.

“Haha, you two look like matching dolls.” Inosuke laughed, pointing between Tanjiro and Genya’s haori, identical but for the color. 

“We’re all matching, dumbass,” Zenitsu shoved Inosuke’s shoulder, pointing between his yukata, Inosuke’s pants, and Nezuko’s obi belt. “That’s the point. ”

“But they’re matching more! ” Inosuke shouted, shoving Zenitsu in retaliation.

“Have a safe trip you two,” Nezuko waved, glancing back over her shoulder as Zenitsu and Inosuke brawled behind her. “Don’t worry, the house will still be standing when you get back.” 

“Alright, good luck,” Tanjiro laughed with a wave of his own, then turned to Genya. “Are you ready?” 

The sun lit his burgundy hair and sparkled in his eyes. A light breeze ruffled the grass and the leaves up in the trees, stirring up a scent of fresh mountain air and late summer wildflowers. The Kamado-cloth haori hung snug and warm over Genya’s shoulders. His maple walking stick rubbed smooth and sturdy against his right palm, the ojuzu beads around his wrist tapping softly against the wood.  

“Ready.” Genya nodded. 

Tanjiro’s sunny smile appeared once again, and together, they departed.

They passed the day in companionable candor, telling lighthearted stories of their families as they grew up, and discussing their favorite recipes. They wound their way down to Okutama, talked with the people they knew in the streets and exchanged polite greetings with those they didn’t, then continued east for about eight miles toward Hanno, where they’d stop for the night before continuing on to the Wind Estate in Sakado in the morning. All the while, Genya kept the quiet glow in his chest, his fingers tracing the sturdy seams of Nezuko's handiwork and his mind replaying the words she'd said over and over. 

Accepted. God and Buddha above. He hadn't realized how good it would feel, for even one person to accept him. 

He looked at Tanjiro from the corner of his eye, bright and warm as the sun itself. 

Maybe, just maybe, he might even be accepted by that brightness someday.

“And then,” Tanjiro laughed, recounting a story from his youth as they rested in the shade of a low tree on the side of the road about halfway through their journey. “Hanako tripped, and knocked the entire bottle of soy sauce into the pot!”

“No way,” Genya’s eyes widened, “And you all ate it anyway?”

“We had to, there wasn’t anything else,” Tanjiro nodded, a weary smile on his face. “Saltiest stir-fry I’ve ever had.”

Genya cringed a bit at the thought of such a strong taste, but something in Tanjiro’s expression made it seem like the young man hadn’t minded at all. 

“Still,” Tanjiro said in between bites of a rice ball, “I’m sure you’ve tasted worse, eating demons and all.” 

He cast Genya a glance from the corner of his eye. 

“Can I… ask you about that?”

“What do you wanna know?” Genya snorted. He’d been expecting this conversation at some point. Himejima had never bothered him about it, but a few other slayers had. So had Shinobu, oddly enough, though the belated realization came to him that the Insect Hashira had probably only been gathering data on demon composition to further develop her drugs rather than taking an interest in his combat style. 

Tanjiro sat a bit straighter, eager now that he had permission to delve into the taboo topic. A note of warmth stirred in Genya’s chest. Tanjiro was cute when he was eager.

“What does it taste like?” 

“It varies,” Genya tilted his head side to side, “Depending on how strong they are and how they’ve mutated. But I mean, you should know, you can smell them right?” 

Tanjiro nodded, a curious tilt to his head. 

“Well, taste and smell are connected, you know? I think they’d taste about the same as they smell, so. Pretty disgusting.”

Tanjiro pulled a face, looking as though he were about to gag at the thought. Genya couldn’t suppress a smile. Even that expression on Tanjiro was cute, somehow. 

“You’ve been putting that in your mouth? ”

“Had to,” Genya laughed, poking a finger at Tanjiro’s right shoulder. “Not all of us can perform breathing techniques.” 

“True,” Tanjiro leaned back on his right palm, staring up at the sky with an almost wistful smile. “We all work with what we have.” 

“I’m… still kind of embarrassed I could never learn any…” Genya admitted, briefly adjusting his collar. “I tried lots of them, Wind, Flower, Stone, nothing ever clicked for me. I just couldn’t figure it out. And then, it turned out there was something wrong with my lungs, and I never would be able to learn any of them.” 

He looked down, twisting a blade of grass between his fingers. Tanjiro set his rice ball down, listening intently.

“I know our ranks are just honorary at this point, but still. I’m not sure if I’ll ever feel worthy of being a Hashira.” 

Tanjiro didn’t say anything for a moment. Genya’s head sank a bit lower, but then he spoke.

“Did you know that Shinobu was unable to decapitate demons?” 

Genya blinked, a little caught off guard. That couldn’t be true. He’d never actually seen the woman fight, but still. She was a Hashira, through and through . That rank wasn’t given to just anybody.

Well, he thought wryly, not before I came along, anyway. 

“It’s true.” Tanjiro nodded, seeing his disbelief. “Even though her piercing techniques were top-notch, she didn’t have the strength to swing a blade with enough force to decapitate anything.” 

“What?” Genya frowned, sitting up a little straighter. “You’re kidding. How did she kill demons without cutting off their heads?”

“With poison.” Tanjiro held up a finger. “Wisteria poison, and some others that Kanao told me about, but mostly wisteria. She perfected the dosage necessary to kill demons, and even injected enough into her own body to kill Upper 2.” 

Genya had heard that much, talking with Sanemi during his recovery in the Butterfly Mansion after the battle. The Insect Hashira’s final sacrifice had astounded him. To think that Shinobu always greeted him so kindly during his checkups, her mind brewing with rage and her veins teeming with enough venom to kill an Upper Rank…

“She seriously couldn’t behead them?” Genya asked, still perplexed. 

“She didn’t have to.” Tanjiro said, his eyes shining as they always did whenever he started talking about sword technique. Genya let out a little huff of affection in spite of himself. 

Nerd… He thought with a smile. He was beginning to think any expression on Tanjiro was cute. Tanjiro went on.

“Even though she couldn’t slice, her piercing attacks were stronger than almost anyone else, and faster than you could follow with your eyes too. Her breathing style was all about speed, about injecting as much poison as fast as possible. Her katana sheath was full of it, and she could change combinations with its inner mechanisms. There was no need to behead them if poison worked just as well.”

“Huh…” Genya tilted his head. It made sense. 

“What I’m trying to say is…” Tanjiro started, then met his eye. “If Shinobu could be the Insect Hashira without being able to decapitate demons, you can be the Moon Hashira without knowing breathing techniques. Besides, Nezuko never learned any breathing techniques either, but the master deemed her worthy, didn't he?”

"I guess so..." Genya bit his lip.  

Tanjiro smiled, leaning back over the grass. 

“It’s like I said. We all work with what we have, and you found lots of ways to work around what you couldn’t do.” He laughed, bright and sunny. “I don’t think I’ve met anyone else that fought demons with a gun. ”

Genya nodded. Tanjiro wouldn’t have. The bullets had been specially made for him, the shells loaded with special sand and iron ore and shards of nichirin steel from leftover scraps in the swordsmith workshops. 

“How did you pick up that gun, anyway?” Tanjiro asked, tilting his head to look at him.

“Er, well…” Genya bit his cheek, looked away, then sighed. There was no point lying to someone who could sniff out the truth like a bloodhound. “I kinda… Stole it…”

“You stole it?” Tanjiro blinked, sitting up a little. 

“Yeah…” Genya’s mouth twisted, but he continued. “It wasn’t good of me, I know, but I didn’t have anything when I left home, and I knew I’d need something to protect myself when I first started hunting demons. I didn’t have nichirin bullets back then, so I would just stall them until sunrise and trap them in the light.” 

“That sounds dangerous…” Tanjiro worried. 

“It was…” Genya nodded, remembering the darker nights. “I… I couldn’t save a lot of people. But I always got the demon, in the end.”

“I meant…” Tanjiro started, looking up at Genya’s face, down his body for a split second, then back up to his eyes. “Dangerous for you.” 

Oh. Of course. Even as Genya confessed his own inadequacy, Tanjiro was still worried for his well-being. 

“Well, it wasn’t all so bad,” he attempted a stiff laugh, “that’s how I figured out my demon powers, after all.” 

“Really?” Tanjiro’s eyes lit up. “That young? What happened?”

Hmm. That part was harder to explain. How could he recount the events of that night? How he’d been cornered by the demon, how one massive hand closed over his face as the other sank talons into his ribs, trying to rip his head from his shoulders. How, in desperation, he’d bitten into the hand over his face, tasting the foul blood as it ran down his throat. How he summoned the strength to kick the demon off of him, ripping from its grasp as his head pounded. How the feral screams that tore from his throat seemed to alarm the demon, who watched with slit pupils and a slavering jaw, in a low, defensive stance a few feet away as Genya went through the agony of transformation for the first time. 

How Genya had raised his head, bared his fangs, and ripped the demon to shreds. 

“...I got lucky,” Genya muttered after a moment. “Really lucky.” 

Tanjiro seemed to want to press for more detail, but he backed off and smiled instead, putting his right hand on Genya’s knee. 

“I’m glad you did.” 

Soon enough, the dirt road turned to smooth stone streets, and they made it to Hanno a few hours before sunset. Irritation sizzled through Genya’s core after a long day of walking, but his wound was still much better than usual, since he had transformed only two days ago. 

“Wow, there’s so many people in the city!” Tanjiro said excitedly, looking around in wonder at the bustle of the town. Genya smirked. 

“You know this is only, like, a big town, right?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. There were definitely more people here than in Okutama, but it was nothing compared to the city where Genya had grown up. 

“Really?” Tanjiro said, eyes wide with wonder. “It’s almost as big as Asakusa!”

“When the hell did you go to Asakusa? ” Genya cocked his head in disbelief. He could hardly imagine the humble swordsman in such a packed place.

“Oh, on a mission a while back,” Tanjiro waved, “We met Lady Tamayo and Yushiro there for the first time. They used to live there. But there were so many people and things to see, I couldn’t think straight! I had to find a park to sit down in.” 

Country bumpkin… Genya thought fondly, only just barely resisting the urge to ruffle Tanjiro’s reddish hair. 

"It's also where I saw Muzan for the first time." Tanjiro said, a slight sneering glare coming into his face.

He said it like a curse, like the name itself was a rotten egg in his mouth. Like just thinking about it made him furious. Genya's lip curled. He knew the feeling.

There, for just a moment below Tanjiro's usual sunny demeanor, Genya caught a glimpse of something deeper. The grief. The rage. The feelings that Tanjiro had hung onto, when everything else was gone. The force that made him a warrior. The drive that made him dance like a fire god. 

"Heard you gave him hell." Genya said, trying to lighten the mood. "Thanks for that. Sorry I couldn't help."

"Hah, no problem." Tanjiro laughed, his old self coming back to light easily. "It was my pleasure."

While not quite Asakusa, Hanno was still no country village. Buildings lined the streets around them, generally about two or three stories tall, though he thought he could see taller ones further down the street every so often. Most were traditional, gray or brown or white-walled, squared with high balconies and long wooden trellises. Others looked a bit flashier, with red support beams, yellow walls, and curved green roofs. The buildings clustered thick and close together, but with plenty of space in the wide streets where hundreds of people milled about. Older folks still dressed in more traditional clothes, high and elegant, but many wore their garments in a more casual fashion. Genya even spotted a few dressed in more western-style clothing, like button-up shirts and suitcoats, with shiny leather shoes poking out from crisp pant legs. 

The hum of street chatter rose up around them, as did the putter of engines as a few automobiles rolled by, and some loud clanging from a nearby shop. A washerwoman carrying a metal tub opened a side door a few moments later, splashing gray water into the alley. The scent of old soap and warm laundry carried on the wind from the open door, as did the scents of sizzling meat and hearty broth from various vendors, with the undercurrents of booze, piss, and horse manure found in any busy urban area. 

A weary kind of contentment filled his heart as there, across the street from them, a pair of kids who looked like brother and sister pushed a cart through the street. It looked heavy, though was full of groceries from a market rather than the hay and bricks and dry goods he and Sanemi used to haul around for people in their own cart for some spare change. He smiled. Wherever the siblings were going, their family would eat well. 

“Hmm, are you hungry?” Tanjiro said, as if reading his thoughts, staring at a group of restaurants a block away. “Something over there smells really good.” 

“Lead the way,” Genya nodded, gesturing forward with his hand. 

Tanjiro smiled and turned into the crowd, Genya following behind, his maple cane clacking against the street. 

People gave Tanjiro strange looks as they took in his wounded arm and cracked eye. Their expressions turned to poorly disguised shock and horror as they lit on Genya next, as he suspected they would. People had looked at him like that even before Kokushibo had split him, for the horizontal slash over the bridge of his nose. This newest addition to his looks wasn’t doing him any favors, but Genya steeled his nerve. It didn’t matter. The people who cared about him didn’t mind, and had almost as many scars as he did themselves. 

It doesn’t matter, Genya thought, looking straight ahead even as a woman gasped loudly in surprise as he passed. It’s like Zenitsu said. They haven’t seen the things we have.

Squaring his shoulders, he continued through the crowd, following Tanjiro to the strip of restaurants.

Truthfully, no, he wasn’t very hungry, which was strange for someone who had walked since morning. It would be concerning if he weren’t used to it by now. Sure, he’d eaten some breakfast before they’d left, and had nibbled on a riceball as they stopped to rest, but for the most part, he was fine. Odd, that. 

He figured it had to do with his demon transformations, as he never seemed to be hungry after he’d transformed, only as a demon. There was something about demonization that always brought a dark, all-encompassing hunger with it. His appetite grew, but no matter how much he ate as a demon he was never satisfied. 

A phantom taste of bone marrow pooled at the back of his tongue. He shuddered, then followed Tanjiro deeper into the crowd as he led the way to what looked like a ramen bar. 

“Welcome!” A young lady in pink serving gear with a white apron said, bowing as they entered. “Would you like to dine with us this evening?”

A few lanterns had been lit inside the place, flickering behind red paper screens, but plenty of light still spilled through the wide window at the front of the establishment. A few other patrons sat at various tables or on tall stools at the long bar. Two men in white uniforms worked behind it, chopping ingredients and stirring pots as a hearty aroma poured through the air.

“Yes please,” Tanjiro smiled his bright, award-winning grin. Even battered as he was, he hadn’t lost an ounce of his earnest charm. Genya’s eyes narrowed a touch as the young lady’s face seemed to pink at the cheeks. It seemed she had noticed as well. 

“Excellent! Thank you very much!” The young lady bowed again, then came up, this time looking at Genya. Her eyes went big as she took in his height and mauled countenance, but to her credit she snapped back into serving mode easily enough, giving Genya a kind smile as well. 

“Would you gentlemen prefer to sit in a booth, or at the bar?”

“What do you think?” Tanjiro asked, turning to Genya.

“Booth.” Genya said quickly. He could use a backrest. “...Please.”

“Certainly,” the young woman nodded, picking up two menus and ushering them into a booth by the window. Genya sidled in the closer side, and Tanjiro sat opposite, their knees briefly bumping together under the brown wood table before they got settled. Relief poured into Genya’s legs and lower back as he finally sat down.

“I’ll give you a moment to look over the menu,” The waitress said, “We’re having a special on pork chashu today though, so make sure to order some!”

“Oh, I love pork chashu!” Tanjiro’s grin widened excitedly.

“I’m glad to hear it!” The waitress smiled back, blushing prettily. Genya’s bottom lip twisted, but he looked down at the menu. “Can I interest you in some tea as well?”

“Yes please! Thank you!” Tanjiro nodded.

The waitress bowed and scurried off, a shy smile on her face. Tanjiro, oblivious as ever, scooted forward happily until his legs brushed against Genya’s again and he looked down at the menu.

“What are you gonna get?”

“I’m not sure,” Genya said, looking over the different broths and meats and vegetables with half-hearted disinterest. “It all looks good.”

It did, to be sure, it was his own appetite that was the problem. 

“Hmmm…” Tanjiro frowned as he surveyed the menu, a slight wrinkle appearing between his eyebrows and reminding Genya of Nezuko. “I think I’ll get the extra spicy tonkotsu broth with pork chashu, bean sprouts, seasoned egg and… hey, do you think they have fatsia sprouts here?” 

“You’d put fatsia sprouts in your ramen?” Genya blinked, a little surprised. 

“They’re my favorite.” Tanjiro said a little hopefully, looking back at the menu.

“ Hah, that explains the giant fatsia plants in the garden,” Genya laughed. “Sorry they’re not sprouts anymore.”

“Yeah,” Tanjiro laughed, “Mom planted a bunch out there. They got a little out of control after we left.” 

“Don’t worry,” Genya smiled, “I’ll get the seeds once they drop. Then we’ll have a whole bunch of sprouts for you come spring.”

Tanjiro hummed happily at the thought, then turned back to the menu. The waitress came by a few minutes later with a white teapot and two small ceramic cups. She placed one before each of them, then poured the liquid in a stream of warm brown. Slight puffs of steam rose from the cups, as did the fragrant scent of tea. Genya took a sip, finding it pleasantly earthy and herbal, with a slight sweet and nutty undertone. His throat, always a little sore, took to the warm beverage like a balm.

Tanjiro asked the waitress if they had fatsia sprouts, but they didn’t, so he settled for green onion instead. A little disappointed, Genya noticed, but he still looked happy as Genya ordered his own ramen. He’d settled on tantanmen, a creamy base made from chicken soy broth with sesame paste and chili oil, complete with chicken soboro, bok choy, and shredded leek. 

“You didn’t get the chashu!” Tanjiro pointed mock-accusingly after the waitress left. 

“It’s fine,” Genya laughed, “I don’t like pork chashu very much. Besides,” He flicked his hefty wallet open. “I’m paying.” 

“What? No, that’s alright, I’ve got it!”

“Tanjiro, you left your wallet on the kitchen counter back home.” Genya raised an eyebrow. “I saw it before we left.”

Tanjiro’s mouth flopped open in stunned realization. He patted his pockets, eyes widening as his hands came up empty. Genya stifled a laugh. 

“W-why didn’t you say anything?” Tanjiro’s face looked a little red with embarrassment, but he laughed. “I don’t wanna make you pay for everything during our whole trip!”

“Don’t worry about it,” Genya waved with a smile. “You’re letting me live in your house rent-free, it’s the least I could do.” 

He cast a brief glance down to his wallet, eyes skating over the packed bills. Almost everything he had earned since he’d started working as a full-fledged Demon Slayer, as he’d lived as frugally as he could while on his own and with Himejima-Sensei. The corner of his lip quirked up with a bit of pride, and he allowed himself a slight moment of revelry in the cash. Zenitsu was right. He wouldn’t be hurting for money any time soon. This much money would have set his entire family up in a much nicer house for two whole years, maybe even three, without his mother or Sanemi or any of his siblings ever having to lift a finger . Yes, it was good to not worry about money for once. 

“Besides,” Genya continued, sliding his wallet into his pocket and looking across the table again. “I like to treat my friends.”

Not that he’d had many before Tanjiro and his crew, but… still. The Older Brother part of him would always be on the lookout for others to protect, to care for. He suspected Tanjiro felt the same way. It felt nice, giving Tanjiro a taste of his own kindness.

A slight blush warmed Tanjiro’s face as his mouth turned up in a small smile. 

“Well, in that case…” He tucked a stray lock of reddish hair behind his ear, then looked up, meeting Genya’s gaze. “Thank you.” 

Genya’s heart skipped a beat. He turned back down to his tea. 

“D-don’t mention it.”

Their food came a few minutes later, the broth of Tanjiro’s ramen so spicy that the steam stung in Genya’s eyes. 

“That’s gonna kill you,” He said, casting a wary glance at the sizzling red tonkotsu stock as Tanjiro eagerly cracked open his chopsticks. 

“It’s fine, I like it spicy!” Tanjiro smiled, slipping the chopsticks below the broth and swirling them around to gather a clump of the wavy noodles below. 

He brought them to his mouth and bit down, an exclamation of delight rumbling up from his mouth as the flavor hit his tongue. Genya watched, raising an eyebrow. Tanjiro’s bowl smelled like it would melt through his stomach, even from across the table.

“What’s the matter,” Tanjiro taunted through half a mouthful of noodles, “you scared?”

“Of noodles? ” Genya laughed. “No.”

“Prove it then!” Tanjiro said, a devious smile coming to his face as he swirled his chopsticks in the bowl again and came up with another bundle of tightly wrapped noodles, aiming directly at Genya’s mouth. 

Genya’s eyes widened, flicking between the noodles that would surely kill him and the impish expression under Tanjiro’s shining red and pink eyes. 

“...Fine,” He grumbled, opening his mouth. 

Tanjiro’s eyes seemed to sparkle even more at that, reaching across the table and deftly dropping the ramen into Genya’s mouth. Genya tried not to think about how that pair of chopsticks had touched Tanjiro’s mouth mere moments ago as they grazed against his large upper right canine, but any thoughts of that nature were eclipsed by the sudden blinding heat in his mouth. 

“ Mmmf! ” he blinked, taken aback by the intensity of the spice, panting through his teeth and chewing rapidly to get it over with quicker. Tanjiro watched in amusement as Genya’s jaw worked up and down, eyes travelling down to his throat as he finally swallowed. 

“Your face looks like a cherry,” Tanjiro laughed as Genya took a long drink of his tea. 

“ Gah… ” Genya panted, finally rising from his cup and fanning at his face. “How can you stand that?”

“If you can’t handle the heat, get out of the kitchen.” Tanjiro said sagely, eyes closed and a finger up in the air. Genya grumbled, but it quickly turned back into laughter. 

He slid his deep spoon into his own broth, grateful for the creamy sesame paste there to sooth the remnants of burning on his tongue. He enjoyed spicy things, as he believed every flavor had its merits, but couldn’t understand when people liked things overly spicy or sweet or salty. He enjoyed more delicacy and complexity in his dishes, flavors that balanced each other and textures that lent themselves to the dish, like the crisp freshness of the bok choy he bit into along with the mellow and slightly seasoned ground chicken soboro. 

They spent a good half hour in the booth, talking and laughing and enjoying their meals. Tanjiro had finished quickly, drinking down the last of the hellish broth before laying his utensils neatly next to the bowl and clapping his hands together, pronouncing himself very satisfied. In the time they’d sat there, Genya had only managed to swallow down a quarter of his own bowl. 

“Here, do you want the rest of mine?” He offered, then thought better of it. “I-if you don’t mind that I’ve eaten from it, that is…”

“Huh?” Tanjiro tilted his head, “You aren’t going to finish it? You’ve hardly eaten anything!”

“I thought you knew better than to waste food…” Sanemi’s voice echoed in the back of Genya’s mind. He cringed, glancing away. 

“I’m… not very hungry. Besides, I ate some of your food, remember? It’s only right.”

“Not hungry?” Tanjiro blinked, confused. “Huh, we’ve been walking all day, I was starving. Are you really sure?” 

“I’m sure.” Genya nodded, pushing the bowl across the table to Tanjiro. “Besides, I saw you looking at it earlier, I know you want to try.” 

Tanjiro flushed, caught red-handed. 

“Well, as long as you’re not hungry,” He said, then dipped his own chopsticks into the bowl. He swirled them around, gathering as much as he could, then brought the noodles up to his lips. His eyes widened. 

“Mmmf, you’re right,” He said, putting a hand up in front of his mouth as he spoke with a slightly muffled voice, “Thish is… really good!”

“Told you,” Genya said, a bit smug as he watched him eat.

“ Hah, ” Tanjiro swallowed, eyes glowing, but tapering down again as they lit back on Genya. A note of concern lingered in his eyebrows. Genya tensed. Was something wrong? 

“I’ve noticed… you don’t really eat much. Even at home.” 

Oh. Right. Of course Tanjiro would notice.

“...Yeah, I…” Genya began, then glanced around the restaurant discreetly. Certain they weren’t being overheard, he continued, though leaned in closer to Tanjiro and whispered. “I think it’s a side effect of my transformations. It’s the same way I can heal. The demon flesh has enough magic cells or whatever to keep me going, so I don’t have to rely on food to keep my body running.”

“Huh,” Tanjiro tilted his head, “So that’s why you weren’t eating at the Swordsmith Village. I guess that makes sense, but… is that really okay, with how you are now? Shouldn’t you be eating more to recover your strength, like how you ate with us during Himejima’s training?”

“Maybe,” Genya shrugged, “But… I don’t know. We’re not exactly the top of our game anymore.” He gave a wry chuckle. “There’s no reason for us to keep up our training or try to get stronger than we were before, like there used to be. I don’t need as much food as I used to now that we’re not going through hell training every day.”

“Yeah,” Tanjiro laughed, “I remember Inosuke would eat two dozen grilled fish every day after training and still demand more.”

“Right,” Genya nodded, then chuckled. “Now he only eats a dozen and a half.” 

A jovial smile split across the Sun Pillar’s face, but it faded as he looked back to Genya again. 

“Are you sure this is okay though?” Tanjiro asked. “Long-term, I mean. I still think you need to eat, Genya.” 

Genya bit his lip, the sharp canine worrying into the flesh like the point of a needle. 

“...I’ll be fine, I promise. But… If it will make you happy, I’ll try to eat more.” 

“It would make me happy.” Tanjiro nodded contentedly. “Here, you can start with this.”

He rolled another clump of noodles through his chopsticks, raising them out of the mellow broth and presenting them to Genya. 

“I-I can feed myself,” Genya protested, face flushing a little. “I’m not a-”

He didn’t get to finish, as like the thrust of a sword, a pair of chopsticks entered his open mouth, dropping their load on his tongue and retreating back to Tanjiro’s side of the table as though nothing had happened. Genya gawked at the speed and perfect precision of the attack. It was as if the ramen had simply appeared in his mouth. Tanjiro gave him an innocent look across the table, dipping his chopsticks back into Genya’s surrendered ramen and bringing a piece of shredded leek up to his own mouth. A snort came up through Genya’s nose. He closed his mouth, chewed, and swallowed. 

A warm sensation rolled over him. There had been moments like this before, waking up in Tanjiro’s arms on the trail to Mount Kumotori or holding hands with him before the blue-spider-lily-covered graves of his family, where Genya felt his strange attraction toward the Sun Pillar might not be completely one-sided. Hope twisted in him like a rowdy kitten squirming out of Gyomei’s tight grasp. He clutched the sleeves of his new haori tighter.

Nezuko had been accepting of him. Had been supportive. Had been… encouraging …

Was there a chance that…

Tanjiro…

“I-I’m gonna pay our bill,” Genya rose suddenly, his face reddening. “You keep eating.”

“Oh, alright!” Tanjiro said, “Thank you again for dinner!”

Genya nodded stiffly, gave a slight smile, then walked over to the front of the restaurant where the waitress stood behind a tall desk. She looked up as his cane clacked over the wood floor.

“O-oh!” She exclaimed upon seeing him. “Hello! Did you enjoy your meal?” 

“Yes, thank you.” Genya nodded. Even though he had only been able to eat a little, the ramen had been quite good. He’d have to remember this place. 

“Wonderful!” She smiled. Her eyes traced the lines of the scars on his face for a moment, then flicked over to Tanjiro still eating in the booth. “And… your friend there?”

“Yes.” Genya said, a little flatter, “He enjoyed it.”

“I’m so glad!” She smiled, a tinge of pink coming to her cheeks before turning back to Genya. “Let’s take care of that bill.” 

Genya handed over the money, then watched as the woman counted out his change. 

“Hey, uh,” He said, leaning a bit closer and lowering his voice so Tanjiro couldn’t hear. “We’re in town for the night, what’s there to see in Hanno?” 

“Hmm,” She frowned, looking out the window. “Not much, I’m afraid, but, oh-! Do you gentlemen like theater?”

“Theater?” Genya cocked his head.

“The Emerald Playhouse is putting on a show, tonight at eight. It’s in the center of town, about ten blocks down this street actually. It should be starting in about an hour.” 

“Huh,” Genya said, looking back at Tanjiro. He’d never felt one way or the other about the performing arts, but Tanjiro was sure to enjoy anything they did together. It was worth a shot. 

“Okay,” He said, slipping her some of the larger bills from his change as a tip. “Thank you.”

Her eyes widened, staring at the money with a disbelieving eye, before snapping back to her senses.

“Y-you are very welcome!” She said with a hurried bow, “Thank you for your business!”

Tanjiro finished up a few moments later. He lifting the bowl to drink the last of the broth and then stacked his and Genya’s bowls, utensils, and teacups in a neat bundle as he rose from the booth, going so far as to move behind the counter to put their dishes in a washbasin as Genya, the waitress, and the cooks in their stations gawked in surprise. Genya was sure Tanjiro was seconds away from rolling up his sleeves and scrubbing their dishes himself before he took him by his good right elbow, leading him out of the employees-only section and muttering a string of “sorry sorry sorry sorry” under his breath as they passed by the stunned waitress. 

You’re too damn nice, Kamado, Genya thought, but couldn’t resist a snicker at Tanjiro’s bewildered expression.

“O-oh, okay!” Tanjiro exclaimed as Genya pulled him out the door, “Sorry to leave you with the work! It was very delicious, good job!”

“You can’t just do the dishes,” Genya said through laughter as they made their way down the street and further into the city. “You’re a customer! That’s not your job!”

“Haha, I guess you’re right,” Tanjiro laughed, scratching the back of his head. “Force of habit I suppose.”

Genya looked at him curiously. Tanjiro went on. 

“That’s how I earned a lot of my meals while Nezuko and I were traveling…” He explained, looking down at the street. “Doing dishes, sweeping floors, I even cleaned out a stable once.” 

Genya wrinkled his nose. With Tanjiro’s sense of smell, that was sure to be hell on earth. 

“Why didn’t you-” Genya began, but then he remembered what Zenitsu had told him, just the other day. Tanjiro’s tendency to give everything he had to those around him, any money he made going to what he viewed to be worthier causes than his own sustenance. Genya bit his tongue, then shifted his question to the first thing he could think of.

“Why didn’t you ask me for help?” 

Shit. That was stupid. They’d known each other since Final Selection, true, but Tanjiro had broken Genya’s arm and Genya had been a stubborn ass. The few times they’d seen each other between then and their reconciliation at the Swordsmith Village, Genya had been cold and unkind, not even sparing Tanjiro a passing glance as he’d stewed in hatred toward the bright young prodigy. His shoulders hunched a bit higher around his ears. Of course Tanjiro wouldn’t come to him for help. 

To his surprise, Tanjiro laughed. 

“That’s very kind of you! But don’t worry, I managed just fine. People are always very friendly if you help them out, good deeds have a way of coming back to you!” 

“...Haha, right…” Genya feigned a smile. His experiences were… not quite the same, but he let it rest.

“So what should we do next?” Tanjiro asked. “It’s getting a bit late, should we find an inn for the night?” 

“Actually,” Genya said, a slight smile coming to his face for real as he took the lead, turning further down the street and deeper into town. “...I have a surprise for you.” 

“A surprise?” Tanjiro blinked, eyes shining before his mouth split in a disbelieving grin. “How did you plan a surprise, we just got here!” 

“I have my ways,” Genya said airily, mentally thanking their waitress for the tip, even though she’d been making eyes at Tanjiro the whole night. 

“Alright,” Tanjiro laughed, “Lead the way.”

Genya did, mentally praying he was going in the right direction. (The waitress had pointed this way… right?) But he needn’t have worried, for soon enough the street spilled into a wide square plaza with tall buildings and shops on every edge, and a wide circular fountain bubbling in the center. Hundreds of people milled about, many of which heading into a large green building with ornate red columns and gilded entablature. A white sign reading “The Emerald Playhouse” in thick black strokes hung over the building, and he smiled, changing his direction to walk towards the theater. 

“Kabuki theater!” Tanjiro lit up, dashing forward to match pace with Genya. “I didn’t know they had a playhouse here, what’s playing?” 

“I-” Genya blanked. Shit. He’d forgotten to ask. “Uh, I’m not sure.” 

Whatever it was, he hoped it was something Tanjiro liked. Anything to keep that smile on his face, the one that sent sunny butterflies through Genya’s stomach. 

“Ooh, it’ll be a surprise for both of us then!” Tanjiro laughed, tapping his fist against Genya’s shoulder. Genya smiled, and walked up to the ticket booth. 

That night’s show turned out to be Shibaraku , a drama that promised action, suspense, and special effects ‘beyond your wildest dreams.’ Genya raised an eyebrow a bit at that, even as the ticket vendor had Tanjiro’s rapt attention. He’d seen quite a lot of unbelievable things during his tenure as a Slayer, (stagecraft couldn’t compare to Lady Kanroji slicing off a dozen wooden dragon heads in one spiraling typhoon of expert swordplay after all,) but he’d give it a shot. Tanjiro seemed excited, and that was all that mattered. 

The show didn’t start for another half hour, so they moved to the burbling fountain, sitting on the stone and watching the water ripple with the gold and orange and violet of the setting sun.

“I haven’t been to a play since my grandma was alive,” Tanjiro said, leaning slightly further against the warm stone. “She’d take us down to see shows in Okutama every fall. They were little things, but still really fun. Nezuko and I would try and reenact them for our younger siblings during the winter when we were all inside most of the time, but we weren’t very good.” 

Tanjiro laughed at his own expense, and Genya cracked a smile. 

“I’ve never been to one this big though, have you?”

“No.” Genya admitted, “I’ve… never actually been to a play before. They were too expensive growing up. But I don’t have to worry about that anymore.”

He laughed, patting his hefty wallet. Tanjiro’s eyebrows creased together. 

“Ah, right, those tickets were expensive, weren’t they? I’ll pay you back when we get home. How much do I owe you?”

“ Nothing ,” Genya insisted, a playful growl in the back of his throat as he lightly punched Tanjiro’s right shoulder. “I told you, I like to treat my friends, remember?” 

I’m taking good care of him Nezuko, don’t worry. Genya thought, reflecting once again that it was very good to have money.

“Haha, alright, alright,” Tanjiro laughed, waving Genya’s fist away. He turned to look at him, gaze softening in the sun-streaked yellow and orange evening glow, his voice gliding through the undercurrent of city buzz like the babble of the clear fountain behind them. 

“You’re a good friend, Genya.”

Genya’s face pinked. His shoulders hunched a bit tighter under his ears, and he looked into the rippling water. 

“...I don’t know about that…” 

There was too much he was hiding. Too much he was keeping secret from the young man. If Tanjiro knew how he really felt about him, he wouldn’t be saying such things. But still, that faint glimmer of hope hung on as Tanjiro continued.

“No, you are! In fact…” Tanjiro looked down, putting his right hand to the back of his neck, almost shyly. “Out of all my friends, I think I like spending time with you the most.”

Genya’s jaw dropped. Tanjiro couldn’t really mean that, could he?

“Don’t get me wrong,” Tanjiro waved hurriedly, “I love my other friends, Zenitsu and Inosuke are like brothers to me, but they’re also a little…”

“High-strung?” Genya supplied flatly.

“Yeah,” Tanjiro laughed a little. “It’s always fun to be with them, we’ve fought side by side for years and have gone through everything together, but sometimes I feel like I always have to calm them down or cheer them up or,” He frowned, mouth twisting in frustration. “Or break Inosuke out of jail.”

“You broke Inosuke out of jail? ” Genya echoed, stunned. 

“Long story,” Tanjiro rolled his eyes. “We were on an important mission, but he got in trouble during the daytime and got locked up. Zenitsu had to distract the police while I snuck in and unlocked his cell.” 

Genya blinked, dumbfounded, before a slow smile crept across his mouth. 

“Wowwww, goody-two-shoes Kamado, breaking the law? I don’t believe it.” 

“Hey, it was important, people were in danger!” Tanjiro laughed, shoving at him with his right arm. “The Demon Slayer Corps is technically an illegal organization, you know, we’re not recognized by the government! Besides,” his eyebrows knit together and his chest puffed out, aiming for a kind of macho facade. “I can be bad sometimes.”

“Hardly. You can’t even tell a lie without your face getting all weird.” 

“Why do you think Zenitsu was in charge of distracting the police instead of me?”

Genya laughed, full and hearty. His lungs expanded with great gulps of joyful warmth, and Tanjiro’s laughter next to him filled his head with sunny sparkles. 

“This is what I mean,” Tanjiro smiled as they wound down, looking up at him. “I feel like I can really be myself around you, you know? Like you just… understand me.” 

Genya frowned a bit at that. Most days, it felt like he hardly understood Tanjiro at all, but if Tanjiro thought otherwise, who was he to argue?

He hadn’t had many friends. In the old days, before he’d known what a demon was, Sanemi had been his best friend. On rare evenings when the chores were done and their dad was out of the house instead of tormenting their mother and younger siblings, he and Sanemi would run through the low alleys and sidewalks of the city with other poor kids, playing with street cats or climbing around on old crates and barrels in empty lots. He didn’t remember their faces much, or their names, but he remembered feeling happy. 

If that’s what he was to Tanjiro, well. He couldn’t ask for anything better.

“I don’t see Aoi or Kanao as much anymore,” Tanjiro continued, “Or Murata or Kotetsu. Senjuro and Mr. Uzui live far away, and… well… a lot of my other friends have died.” 

Genya nodded, thinking of Muichiro. Of Lady Kanroji. Of Gyomei. Of everyone who had fallen. A hollow ache filled his heart, just where it always did whenever he thought of them. 

“I’m really glad you’re in my life, Genya.” 

Tanjiro looked up at the sky, his burgundy hair and long rectangular earrings ruffling in a slight breeze as a smile warmed his face. His right hand lingered on the stones of the fountain, mere inches from Genya. 

He had held that hand before. Would Tanjiro mind… if he did it again?

“Tanji-”

A sonorous ringing pealed through the plaza. Genya looked up, seeing the shiny brass bell ringing merrily as it swayed back and forth on top of The Emerald Playhouse. 

“Oh!” Tanjiro rose to his feet excitedly, “The play’s about to start!”

Genya opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but not sure what. He closed his jaw in a grim smile, a huff of air escaping his nose as he stood up from the fountain. Right. It was better this way. 

They walked across the plaza to the playhouse, then filed in through the tall green doors with dozens of others into the large auditorium. The wood of the interior was beautiful, stained rich reds and greens and blacks or gilded with bits of sparkling gold. The main audience floor was divided into square standing-room sections, with a hanamichi, a high walkway on the left side, that led directly onto the stage. Genya and Tanjiro were filed neatly into one of these by the ushers, right next to the walkway, along with a few other people. Blocks of booths lined the walls, where wealthier patrons had paid for seats overlooking the show. 

“Damn,” Genya muttered, glancing up at them as an old ache came into his back. “Wish we had seats down here.” 

“You can lean on me if you’d like?” Tanjiro offered, turning to him and bracing, as if ready to receive Genya’s body weight. 

“It’s alright,” Genya laughed, leaning his shoulder against the wall of the raised walkway instead. His face would be level with the performer’s feet as they walked across it. “This works fine.”

The rest of the standing room squares were filled in, packing an audience of about a hundred into the main portion, while about sixty more lingered on the edges in their booths. Genya got a look at the stage, where lights illuminated large walls that had been painted like the garden walls of an ornate estate.

He blinked a little, stunned as the lights blacked out all at once. A hush of anticipation rose through the crowd. Next to him, Tanjiro stood a little closer. 

The melodic strings of a shamisen cut through the darkness, low and insistent as they strummed along in a fast-paced melody. A woodflute piped along, high and keening. They were joined every so often by the booming strikes of a taiko drum, like distant cannons rolling over a field. A male voice, warbly and loud, filled the air alongside them. It took Genya a moment to recognize the sound as narration. 

So, the evil warlord takes a bunch of royals as prisoners… Genya thought, tilting his head a bit as he parsed through the singer’s words. Hmm. Dramatic indeed. 

The stage lights came on, illuminating two people dressed as servants, (though with much richer serving gear than Genya was used to,) fine silk robes embroidered with shining golden thread. Probably just costumes, to catch the lights of the stage better. Their faces were painted white and red, and slowly, they pulled the gates of the onstage estate open. 

A person wearing the most elaborate costume Genya had ever seen sat high on what almost looked like a temple altar. His face was masked in a huge fake beard, and painted white, with stark black lines to accentuate age. Others sat on the floor before him, wearing regal-looking clothing or military garb. 

Much of it went over Genya’s head, but the initial narration proved true. The evil-looking man seemed to be gloating about conquering… something. The kind royalty seemed distressed at the news and begged for mercy, so the evil aristocrat ordered them executed. Not really Genya’s type of show, but he did admire the spectacle. The flow of practiced movements, the glimmer of elaborate costumes, the sway and buck of the music as it lit behind each performer. 

Mostly though, he was caught up in Tanjiro, who watched next to him with big eyes and an eager grin, gasping at all the right moments and applauding enthusiastically after every number. 

Who knew he was such a theater buff? Genya thought, smiling as he watched Tanjiro from the corner of his eye, gasping in dismay as it seemed the royals were seconds away from execution.

He was interrupted from his reverie as a booming voice shouted out from behind him.

“WAIT A MOMENT!!!”

Genya turned, startled to see a huge figure making his way down the hanamichi. He’d been wrong about the evil aristocrat, this was the most elaborate costume he’d ever seen. The performer wore exaggerated sleeves that looked like huge square sails held out in front of him to obscure his face, but a long curved sword hung in his belt, and a huge braided cord was tied around his hips and shoulders, ending in a bow at his back. 

The figure marched to the front of the stage, where he threw the sleeves from his face and stared out at the audience with a fierce expression, a hairpiece exquisitely styled and strong lines of red paint cutting in curved lines through the white makeup on his face. Almost like the demonic markings of the near-unbeatable Akaza, if Tanjiro’s descriptions of Upper Moon 3 were accurate. 

The figure introduced himself as the samurai Kagemasa, every one of his movements perfect, deliberate, and controlled, the perfect model of quiet inner strength. Genya smiled despite himself. The hero Kagemasa might’ve had the markings of a demon and gaudy, oversized props, but there was something about the surety of his stance and power in his magnificent stage presence that reminded him of Himejima. 

The show went on. People danced, people argued their cases, Kagemasa posed dramatically as other actors held his long sleeves out on either side of him, the square markings like the eyespots on the wings of a great moth as he struck an intimidating fighting pose. The evil aristocrat sent a group of men to restrain Kagemasa. The hero sent them all running with nothing more than a strong look. 

Definitely like Himejima, Genya thought, huffing in mirth as he recalled the sight of weaker demons shrinking from his master’s presence in terror. 

In a final battle, Kagemasa was surrounded by a dozen of the evil aristocrat’s strongest soldiers. He drew his long curved sword and swung it in a great arc. One by one, each of the men pulled red scarves out from the necks of their shirts as if it were a spray of blood, ducking their heads and rushing offstage. When they were gone, a dozen fake severed heads sat on the floor where they had all been standing. The audience screamed and gasped in shock, clapping riotously. Genya met Tanjiro’s eye. 

“I’ve seen better decapitations…” He muttered, giving a few polite claps. 

“Yeah,” Tanjiro laughed, no doubt recalling some of the more gruesome things he’d seen and done himself. “But it’s fun.” 

The play ended shortly after that, with a reconciliation of the conquered lands and what sounded like a marriage proposal. Genya frowned. Maybe he had missed something, but that seemed to come out of nowhere. He clapped with the others as the performers took their bows, regardless.

“That was great!” Tanjiro exclaimed as they filed out of the playhouse with the rest of the audience. “Thanks for taking me!”

“Of course.” Genya smiled, his cane clacking against the smooth wood floor as they passed the ticket booth. “What was your favorite part?”

“I don’t know if I can choose just one!” Tanjiro said excitedly, practically bobbing up and down on his toes. “The part when Kagemasa was talking with the priest Shinsai was so funny! Or the part where he scared all those soldiers away just by looking at them? Oh! Or when Teruha revealed herself to be a spy!”

“There was a spy?” Genya blinked. Damn, a lot had gone over his head. 

“Yeah, the woman in the red kimono!” Tanjiro laughed, “Don’t tell me you missed it!”

Hmm. There had been a woman in red slinking about the stage in very sneaky dancing movements, but he hadn’t put it together. He’d definitely missed more than he’d thought, focusing on the movement and spectacle rather than the story itself. And of course, paying much more attention to the handsome young man beside him.

“Well I’m glad you liked it.” He snickered as they made their way back out into the plaza. “Maybe you can fill me in on what I missed sometime.”

“Yeah!” Tanjiro smiled with his eyes closed, “We’ll have to act it out for the others when we get home, so they don’t miss out.” 

“Absolutely not.” Genya pulled a face. “I’m no actor.” 

“Aww, come on,” Tanjiro put a teasing lilt into his voice and poked a needling finger into Genya’s ribs as they walked. “You don’t think you’d make a dashing and heroic Kagemasa?” 

“ Pffft, ” Genya rolled his eyes, smiling at the ridiculous thought. “As if. Besides, if I'm Kagemasa, that means you’d have to be that evil emperor guy. You couldn’t play a villain, you’re too smiley.” 

“Haha, maybe you’re right,” He laughed, proving Genya’s point. “But we’ll still give it a try.” 

“Fine,” Genya sighed, mock-dramatically, “If you insist.” 

Tanjiro beamed at him, and together, they walked through the plaza. 

The sun had set while they were in the theater, only a twilight grayish-purple light remained in the sky as electric streetlamps buzzed on and lit the streets in a warm yellow. Tanjiro had spotted a nice-looking inn on their way up the street from the ramen restaurant, so he led the way back. Genya paid for their room, and a worker led them up to a suite on the second floor of the building, informing them that a complimentary breakfast would be provided for them in the morning as she produced two freshly-laundered plush white futons. 

“Thank you for your patronage!” She bowed, then slid the door closed behind her. 

Genya looked down at the futon in his arms, secretly a little disappointed that the inn had provided two, even though it made perfect sense. As nice as it would have been to share a sleeping arrangement with Tanjiro again, he couldn’t expect a respectable inn like this to have allowed it. 

Tanjiro had spread his futon out next to his luggage already, and stood in the little washroom attached at the left side of the room, splashing water from a clean basin over his face. 

 “We’ll arrive in Sakado tomorrow,” He nodded, “It’s only seven miles, and we don’t have to hike down a mountain, so we should make better time than we did today.” 

“Right…” Genya said, shifting uncomfortably as he laid out his futon next to Tanjiro’s. There was still something they had to discuss.

“Tomorrow, at the Wind Estate… I know you and my brother have had some… Disagreements….” He glanced up at the other young man. “Are you going to be comfortable around Sanemi?”

Tanjiro paused. A slight stiffness came into his spine. He turned on his heel to face Genya, a curious light in his worried eyes. 

“Are you? ”

“W-what? Of course, he’s my brother.” 

Tanjiro didn’t say anything. Genya looked down. 

“Things are… different now. It’s okay.” 

“Hmmm.” Tanjiro nodded. “If you say that’s true, I trust you. You know him better than I do. I’m just… worried.”

Genya blinked. Worried? What would Tanjiro have to be worried about?

“And I know, it’s not my business, I just…” Tanjiro went on, then bit his lip, as if searching for the right words. 

“I don’t like how he treated you for so long.” 

A strange, uncomfortable feeling rose up within Genya. It wasn’t true. It wasn’t a fair assessment of his older brother. Tanjiro didn’t have all the facts, he hadn’t seen how things had changed between them.

Even so, a small part of his heart agreed with Tanjiro’s words. He didn’t like how Sanemi had treated him for so long either. 

But it was fine. It was . Sanemi had pushed him away for his own protection, because Genya was weak. He didn’t want to see him get hurt. He still remembered his older brother’s cries of anguish there in Kokushibo’s lair, as Genya’s shattered form began to drift away into dust. Sanemi loved him, of that Genya was sure. He’d loved him so much that the thought of losing him practically tore him apart. 

Everything he’d done had been to keep Genya safe.  

“He renounced you as a brother. He tried to blind you. I know you say it’s all okay now, but…” Tanjiro frowned at the washbasin, then met Genya’s eye.

“Please be careful around him, okay?” 

Genya bit his lip, flicking his glance away from Tanjiro’s. He didn’t say anything. Tanjiro sighed, then stepped out of the washroom, kneeling in front of him and settling his calloused right hand on Genya’s shoulder. 

“I won’t headbutt him again, if that’s what you're asking.” Tanjiro said, a playful note in his voice, as if Genya was a child in need of cheering up. “Not unless he deserves it. I’ll be civil.” 

“Haha, alright.” Genya relented weakly. “I can work with that. It’s just… You both mean a lot to me, you know? I don’t want you to hate each other.” 

“I don’t want him to hate me anymore either,” Tanjiro sighed wearily, settling back on his own futon. “The war is over. There’s no reason for us to fight. I think we’ve both purged through the bad blood, but… you never know.” 

“Hmm.” Genya nodded. 

Things were great between him and Sanemi. Better than ever. He was going to visit him, for god’s sake, in his own house no less. And by invitation this time, not like that one time he’d run away from Gyomei’s mountain and tried to break into the Wind Estate only to be kicked out by a Kakushi who was on guard duty while Sanemi was away on Hashira business. 

Genya cringed, then shook his head. No, this time was different. It had to be. 

They washed up. Genya took extra care as always with his toothbrush, scrubbing the tender roof of his mouth and the space under his tongue where a demonic sword had cleaved him in two not too long ago. He briefly lamented his appearance in the mirror, but as usual, there was nothing to be done. He changed into soft nightclothes, praying Tanjiro wasn’t sneaking a look at the full state of his mangled body like he so often seemed to want to, but kept the black and purple Kamado haori close to his face as he curled up on his futon and went to sleep. 

_____

“What do you think is up there?” Genya asked, looking up at the sky. He and Sanemi lay on the roof of their old apartment, looking up at the moon and stars. They looked bigger than ever, drifting through the sky like lazy glowing lily pads.

Their younger siblings snored peacefully, nice and warm in the room behind them. A soft glow of a lamp came from further down the hall, and he could just barely hear the sounds of his mother and father laughing and speaking sweetly to each other. Their neighbor’s gramophone played soft and staticky music a few rooms over, the song Genya had always liked, with the smooth piano and violin under a horn section. It always made him feel warm and sleepy.

“Scientists say it’s other planets, like ours.” Sanemi said, his white hair ruffling over his young, unscarred face. “Too many of them to count.” 

“Planets?” Genya asked, looking up at the night sky in awe once more. “Whole planets? As big as Japan?”

“Bigger.” Sanemi laughed. “A lot bigger. So big, it would take your entire life to walk all the way around them.” 

Genya’s eyes shone bright with wonder. Sanemi was so smart. 

“Do you think,” He started, “There’s one up there just for us? Full of watermelon and red bean mochi, and the katsu skewers we get on New Years?” 

Sanemi considered for a moment, then nodded. 

“Yeah, probably. I’ll take you there some day.” 

“Wow.” Genya smiled, looking back up. The roof tiles lay smooth and warm against his back. “I can’t wait!”

He smiled, humming to himself for a moment, before another possibility came to his mind.

“...’Nemi?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you think…” Genya started, “Do you think there’s a planet up there, where everything is just the same as it is here, except there were no demons? Where none of the bad stuff we went through ever happened?”

Sanemi didn’t say anything. Genya turned to look at him, briefly startled to find him fully-grown again, decked out in his Hashira uniform. The scars on his forehead and under his eye seemed to gleam in the moonlight. He turned to look at Genya, his eyes almost black in the darkness.

“...I don’t know.” 

_____

Genya woke to the sound of slight scuffling on the wood floor. He blinked awake and yawned, stretching out his stiff shoulder and looking up to find Tanjiro already rolling up his futon. 

“Good morning!” He greeted, “How’d you sleep? Good dreams, I hope?”

“...Yeah,” Genya considered, “I think so. How about you?”

“I had a dream that everything was the same,” Tanjiro tilted his head, hand on chin as he looked at the ceiling, “Except Inosuke was the demon I was protecting instead of Nezuko. I think Nezuko replaced Himejima-san..? She was huge and buff and had nichirin shoes to kick demon’s heads off. Zenitsu was a bright yellow crow.” 

“Huh.” Genya blinked, a little baffled. “...Was I there?” 

Tanjiro tensed, a kind of urgency coming to his eyes. His cheeks heated in embarrassment. 

“Uhm…” he started, his face twisting into a puffy, unsightly grimace. “...I don’t remember?”

“That’s your stupid lying face.” Genya raised an eyebrow, but couldn’t fight the slight grin on his mouth. Even that expression was cute on Tanjiro, somehow.

“Uhh, um…” Tanjiro said, his face somehow becoming even more distorted. “No it isn't..?"

Genya snorted, but he let it go. Whatever role he’d played, it was probably embarrassing, or Tanjiro wouldn’t be acting this way. He was likely trying to spare his feelings. Maybe Genya had been a crow like Zenitsu, but with a cheap mohawk in his feathers. Maybe he’d been one of the demons that Beefy Nezuko had kicked to death with her nichirin shoes. 

“Alright,” He rolled his eyes, “If you say so.” 

 They rolled up their futons and got ready for the day, ate a quick breakfast in the little dining area next to the front desk of the inn, then set off. 

The journey between Hanno and Sakado was different from the journey between Okutama and Hanno. Busier. More urban. They stepped to the side as donkey carts and carriages rolled past, and Tanjiro gawked as once or twice an automobile left them in a cloud of acrid black smoke. Towns and villages rose in the distance, and occasionally the road took them straight through them. They stopped to rest once or twice an hour, sitting under shady trees or in village squares and watching people go by. Tanjiro recapped the play in its entirety to the best of his ability, and Genya thought he got it. Sort of. 

They rolled into Sakado at about one in the afternoon, taking as much time as they each needed, then walked to the edge of town where the long white walls bordering the sprawling wind estate wove like neat strips of silk. They were taller than Genya, with sloping gray tiles and plaster panels that interspersed every eight feet or so with wooden support beams. 

He winced as they passed a familiar plum tree. He’d scaled the wall right there by the plum two years ago when he’d tried to break in to see Sanemi, and had scraped up his knees when he’d lost his balance and fallen. He'd then felt like an idiot as he realized the path to the Wind Estate was in no way blocked, he had just come from the wrong side, trying to hop walls and fences for no reason other than it lent a certain degree of espionage to his mission that his younger mind had found compelling. He’d imagined himself as a bold vagabond then, doing whatever it took to reunite his family and restore his honor. 

(In reality he’d hitchhiked for about sixty miles before taking the rest of the way on foot, eating out of garbage bins and scaling unnecessary walls before getting soundly kicked out by an angry Kakushi. Quite the glamorous adventure. He hadn’t fully been able to look Himejima in his unseeing eyes for a while after that.) 

He couldn’t believe his luck when Hashira Training began, and he was actually invited back to train at the Wind Estate. Sanemi hadn’t known he’d been a part of that group of course or he would have never allowed it, but Genya was already there, and there was nothing that could be done. He’d stood face-to-face with his brother for the first time in years. He’d tried to apologize for everything he’d said, the day their mother crumbled away into dust in the light of the rising sun, and, well. The day had played out like it had.

Genya shook his head, clearing his thoughts as they kept walking. That was in the past. Everything was fine now. There was no need to sneak into the Wind Estate, and there was nothing left to apologize for. 

Small white stones crunched under their feet, and in the distance he could make out some ornamental bushes, trees, and squat boulders among the white stones as the wood and plaster walls of the tall mansion came into view. 

His heart rose into his throat. There was the training garden, where Tanjiro had tackled him through the wall to save him from Sanemi’s wrath only a few months ago. Bits of broken glass from the shattered sliding door still glittered among the white stones. Sanemi had stood right there, threatening to ruin Genya beyond all recovery. 

“Without him, we could have never beaten that upper rank!” Tanjiro had screamed, standing between him and Sanemi with his arms outstretched, face purple and puffy with bruises. 

“Is that so?” Sanemi had taunted, “In that case, I’ll ruin you beyond all recovery too!”

Madness had erupted. Tanjiro had brawled head on with Sanemi, blocking a punch to his stomach and landing a kind of chop-kick to his older brother’s throat. Zenitsu had dragged Genya away from the melee as the other slayers-in-training swarmed Sanemi like ants to keep him from maiming Tanjiro any further. Genya had socked Zenitsu across the face for calling his brother a lunatic, and all in all, no one had gone to bed happy that night. 

Back then, Genya hadn’t expected to ever set foot here again. Next to him, Tanjiro’s gait seemed stiff and on guard, like he was thinking the same thing. 

“It’ll be fine.” Genya said, willing him to believe it as Tanjiro met his eye. “Things are better now.”

Tanjiro simply nodded, cautious eyes still scanning around the eerily quiet estate. There was still no sign of their hosts. No sign of… anyone, really.

They’d only made it halfway across the courtyard when the newly-repaired sliding doors shot open, slightly rattling in their wooden frames. 

“Genya!” Sanemi called, a huge smile on his scarred face as he waved from the doorway. “You made it!”

Chapter Text

“Sanemi!” Genya exclaimed, smiling as his older brother wrapped him in a tight hug and laughing as he was lifted a few inches off the ground. 

Sanemi still wore his short white haori, but his black uniform was abandoned, replaced with a brown kimono top tucked into dark gray hakama pants. The bandages around his right hand had long since been removed, but it was still a little jarring to see the missing fingers. He’d gained several more scars during the final battle, like all the survivors had, but none of them seemed to dull the smile on his face.

“You made it!” Sanemi repeated, looking giddy as a little kid. A soft light warmed in Genya’s chest. He didn’t think he’d ever see that expression on his brother’s face again. 

Sanemi put him down, eyes flicking over the scar across his face and down the rest of his body, hands tensed as if ready to catch him if he were to suddenly fall. 

“How was the trip? Not too long I hope?”

“The trip was fine,” Tanjiro smiled, but Sanemi’s expression soured as soon as he heard his voice. “Only about twenty miles. We took it real easy.”

“You better have,” Sanemi said, his demeanor noticeably harsher as he turned to the Sun Pillar. “I don’t need him falling apart on me. Hey, Genya, how have you been feeling lately?”

His brother surveyed him like a grasshopper on a wheat stalk, ready to spring at the slightest disturbance. Ah, right. He should have expected this question. Genya cringed, then shared a quick glance with Tanjiro. Sanemi’s eyes narrowed as he caught the look. 

“What happened.”

“Well…” Genya started, glancing to the side nervously. “It got pretty bad earlier this week. I… uh… split again…”

“ WHAT? ” Sanemi demanded, eyes almost as crazed and furious as they’d been in the days before they’d won the war. 

Genya squeezed his eyes shut and braced himself, ready for a beating, a berating, to be scolded and lashed into oblivion. But the first blow never came. He cracked a wary eye open, then both in alarm as he realized. 

Sanemi hadn’t whirled on him, but on Tanjiro.

“What the fuck were you thinking! ” Sanemi practically screamed, a vein sticking out in his neck as he loomed over Tanjiro like a ferocious tiger. “He split again? How could you let it get that bad?!”

“I-I didn’t!” Tanjiro stammered, waving his arms in defense, “I didn’t know! We just woke up and it was happening! We did everything we could, I promise!”

Horror bloomed in Genya’s chest. This was all-too-familiar to the last time Sanemi and Tanjiro had fought, right here in this very courtyard, and once again about Genya. Sanemi’s rage was like a volcano, but Tanjiro’s defense was slowly burning into irritation as he rose to match Sanemi’s heat. Genya’s molars squeezed hard together. He had to stop this, and fast. 

“Please, hold on!” He shouldered between them before fists could fly. Sanemi bobbed to the left and right of him, trying to keep his murderous gaze latched on Tanjiro. He was sure Tanjiro was doing the same behind him, like angry dogs barking through a fence. “Tanjiro didn’t do anything wrong, it was my fault! I didn’t realize what was happening until it was too late! It’s my own damn fault, do you understand?”

Sanemi’s teeth were still bared, but he looked up at Genya and drew back a little. 

“Tanjiro sent a letter to Yushiro immediately.” Genya continued, a slight warmth creeping into his chest as he recalled just how much his friend had done for him that morning. “He cleaned me up and put bandages on me, then went all the way down the mountain for other medicine while we waited for Yushiro. He took care of me the entire time.”

He looked over his shoulder, meeting Tanjiro’s ruby gaze. He smiled, and Tanjiro mirrored it, his face taking on a glow of reassurance. 

“I couldn’t have asked for someone better by my side.” 

Sanemi paused his wrath, looking between the two of them. He huffed, shook his head, then leaned back and crossed his arms. 

“Tch, whatever. It sounds like you learned your lesson.” He rolled his eyes, then cast a steely glare at Tanjiro. “Just don’t let it happen again.” 

He should be scolding me for that… Genya thought, biting his lip even as Tanjiro answered that he wouldn’t. 

“Well, let’s get you inside,” Sanemi said, glancing up at the clouds in the distance before returning his gaze to Genya. “You must be tired, would you like to rest? Or can I get you anything to drink?”

“Uh…” Genya blanked. Truthfully, he could use a rest, but now wasn’t the time for that, they’d only just arrived. Sanemi seemed determined to be useful though. “Some tea would be nice?”

“Of course.” Sanemi nodded eagerly. “We just got a new blend in from one of Kanroji’s favorite shops, I think you’ll like it.” 

Tanjiro seemed to perk up a bit at that. Genya smiled, remembering how he’d go on and on about the incredible food the Love Hashira had served during her flexibility training. He and Genya had tried to make one of her specialties once or twice, (something called “pancakes,” Genya thought,) but they never seemed to get the recipe quite right. 

Sanemi led them inside. The Wind Estate was just as well-kept as Genya remembered it, polished dark wood floors and paper screen walls filtering a low-lit glow through the crosshatches of their wooden supports. A soft cool breeze seemed to continually roll through the building, funneled in through cunning little tubelike passageways in the architecture, designed to filter cool air in and hot air out. 

Decoration was… minimal, as he’d expected of Sanemi, but here and there he saw a beautifully decorated shoji screen or embroidered seating cushions. A mask painted like a fox hung from a long blue ribbon on the wall, along with some beautiful calligraphy.

“Kitchen’s just this way,” Sanemi said, pointing down the hall to the right, then pointing to another passage down the left. “I’ll prepare the food. You two should go down that way to the back door. Tomioka is training out there, he’ll want to see you.”

“Thank you, aniki,” Genya said, turning to the direction he’d pointed. 

“Thank you, Shinazugawa-San,” Tanjiro said a moment later, a little less eagerness in his voice than usual.

Sanemi narrowed his eyes at Tanjiro again, then huffed and turned to the kitchen. 

“...You okay?” Genya asked, once his brother was out of earshot.

“Yeah,” Tanjiro sighed, then turned to walk toward the back door. “I just don’t know if he and I will ever get along.”

“Don’t worry,” Genya laughed, following after him. “I won’t let him kill you.” 

“My hero,” Tanjiro smiled, and a cheeky glint came into his eye. “Just like the samurai Kagemasa.” 

“Taking you to Kabuki Theater was a mistake,” Genya groaned, “You’re gonna keep referencing that damn play forever, aren’t you?”

“You love it.” Tanjiro smiled, nose high in the air as he marched toward the door.

Genya grinned, despite himself. He did. 

When they slid the door of the mudroom at the back of the house open, they were met with a curious sight. 

“Again!” A man’s voice shouted.

“Yes sir!” Answered the voice of a young girl. 

The sound of clacking wooden blades filled the air, as did the crunch of gravel underfoot and the whirl of clothing as the warriors met on the field. 

“ Naho?! ” Tanjiro exclaimed in disbelief. “Naho Takada?”

Genya blinked, then looked closer, eyes widening as he realized it was true. He hadn’t recognized the young girl without Sumi and Kiyo next to her dressed with their red and blue, but the green member of the Butterfly Mansion Triplets stood firm and panting, her wooden bokuto sword in steady hands as she faced down her opponent. Her black hair was still styled in two braids with their signature green butterfly clips, but she now wore a mossy brown kimono tied around the waist with a green cloth over her white button-down hospital clothes. Sturdy leather shoes braced around her feet, and she looked a little taller than she’d been when Genya had seen her last. 

Giyuu Tomioka stood across from her, his dual-patterned haori flapping around his legs as he took up his own stance. He looked more or less the same as he had when Genya had seen him at the Hashira meeting, with shorter black hair and only his left arm, though he no longer wore his slayer uniform, instead wearing a simple white robelike shirt and gray hakama pants.

“Tanjiro?” He stood up straighter, blue eyes widening.

“Mr. Tanjiro!” Naho exclaimed, her face splitting in a wide grin as she dropped her bokuto and ran towards them. “And Mr. Genya! Hello!”

“Naho, don’t drop your sword, never let your guard down,” Giyuu scolded, but it was lighthearted, and he came up to them as Naho made a flying leap into Tanjiro’s arms.

“It’s so good to see you!” She laughed as Tanjiro caught her, hugging him tightly like a little sister. “How are you? How was the trip? I didn’t know you’d be arriving so soon!”

“We didn’t even know you’d be here!” Tanjiro laughed, giving her an affectionate head pat as he set her down, then reaching up to hug Giyuu as he approached. “What are you doing?” 

“I’m Shinazugawa-Sensei’s Tsuguko!” Naho said proudly, puffing out her chest a little. “He and Mr. Tomioka are training me!”

Tsuguko? Genya wondered. He remembered Sanemi and Aoi talking about the possibility back at the Butterfly Mansion, but he didn’t realize it would happen so quickly. 

A slight frown came to his face. There was no need for Tsuguko anymore, now that Muzan and his spawn were finally dead. The title was likely only for show, just as Genya’s title of Hashira was. This was probably just Sanemi’s way of passing down his skill, as Kiriya and the Ubuyashiki siblings had requested of them. He couldn’t imagine his brother actually training Naho to the point where she could replace him in his Hashira duties, as a Tsuguko was supposed to do. 

A prickle of something undefinable rolled up his spine. Pride in the little slayer-in-training, mixed with a forlorn wistfulness. 

And yes, a tiny but undeniable sting of envy.

It had been rainy, the night he’d first made it to Himejima’s house on top of the mountain. He’d been searching for months, cornering Kakushi and weaker Slayers and drilling them for information on who was the strongest. On who was the best. On who would be his shot at becoming a Hashira, and finally seeing Sanemi again. 

Himejima was the only answer. He’d tracked down his home on top of the mountain and scaled it in the pitch dark of night as the rain poured down around him, practically drowning out the beating of his fists as he pounded on the sturdy front door. 

He demanded to be the great man’s Tsuguko. Then, he begged to be his Tsuguko. Then, he cried when Himejima explained what the word Tsuguko actually meant, and why Genya would never be one.

Successor. Tsuguko meant successor. It meant that when Gyomei died, his Tsuguko would have to be as strong or stronger than him in order to replace him and keep the Demon Slayer Corps balanced and bolstered against the rising threat. 

Himejima had explained it in gentle terms. Simply put, Genya could never be as strong as he needed to be to be Himejima’s successor. He would never be able to learn the secret breathing techniques passed down through the Corps, and his nichirin sword would never change color. He just didn’t have the potential. 

He hadn’t been able to put it into words when Sanemi had first given him Himejima’s huge olive-yellow haori in the graveyard after the final battle. He didn’t deserve such an honor. He hadn’t earned it. 

He just didn’t have the potential.

“ Please, ” Genya had begged as he’d cried on the wood floor, all his bravado leaking out his eyes and nostrils and evident on his puffy cheeks. “I need this. I can do it, I can. Please, I need to see my brother again…” 

Tears drowned out his begging, and he’d burned in shame. He was nothing more than a miserable child at the feet of the strongest man in the entire Corps, the strongest man in the entire world . His sword and gun clattered to the ground, landing as scattered and aimless as Genya himself as he collapsed inward onto his own misery. 

He would never see Sanemi again.

A heavy hand had lit on his shoulder. Genya had looked up, into the sightless streaming eyes of the Stone Pillar. Those empty eyes seemed to peer into his soul nonetheless, and Himejima Gyomei nodded once. Firm. Resolute. Final.

“I see you, young one.” Himejima had said, his voice a low rumble that seemed to worm its soothing vibrations into Genya’s very bones. “I see your desire. I see your determination.”

Genya had blinked, tears streaming from his eyes as he looked at the Stone Hashira in disbelief.

“You must understand, not every tree can be the strongest oak in the forest.”

Genya had hung his head. He nodded. Himejima’s mouth had twitched, feeling the expression through the hand on Genya’s shoulder.

“But you are yet a sapling. Let us see how you grow.” 

He’d been accepted. Gyomei would train him. Not as a Tsuguko, but as a Demon Slayer. The best damn Demon Slayer he could possibly be. 

I hope I made you proud, Sensei… Genya thought wryly now in the backyard of the Wind Estate, fingers rubbing the prayer beads that always wrapped around his wrist, just as they had on Gyomei. He was the Moon Hashira now, after all. And even though he still didn’t quite believe he’d earned it, the title was still nothing to scoff at. 

“That’s amazing, Naho!” Tanjiro exclaimed, bringing Genya back into the present conversation. “I’m so happy for you! How long have you been training?”

“I’ve been here for a month now!” She said excitedly. “Once me and Kiyo and Sumi trained our lungs enough to break the gourds, Miss Aoi and Miss Kanao started teaching us what they knew! Kanao is teaching Kiyo Flower Breathing, and Sumi is learning Water Breathing from Aoi! Aoi takes lessons here from Mr. Tomioka every so often too, to get her back up to form.” 

“Wow, that’s incredible!” Tanjiro’s eyes shone brightly, “I’m so happy for all of them! What style are you learning here?” 

Naho’s face fell a bit, and she shuffled her feet uncomfortably. 

“She hasn’t been able to find one that sticks for her just yet.” Giyuu stepped in. “She’s got a lot of potential, she’s got the fluidity for Water Breathing and the ferocity for Wind Breathing, but it feels like we’re missing something. She can’t perform either technique.”

Genya nodded. He knew how that felt.

“That’s okay!” Tanjiro said, his gaze flicking to Genya for a moment from the corner of his eye before turning back to Naho in an effort to cheer her up. “Your breathing style should be the perfect fit for you, otherwise it won’t be as effective.”

“That’s part of why this gloomy loser invited you here, Kamado,” Sanemi said. Genya turned, seeing his older brother stepping out of the house with a tray of pale violet teacups in his hands. 

“Huh?” Tanjiro blinked, turning a confused look onto the Water Hashira. “What do you mean? How can I help?”

“You use Sun Breathing. You-, ah, thank you Sanemi,” Giyuu said as Sanemi handed him a steaming lilac teacup. “You use First Breathing, the style all other styles were derived from. If anyone can figure out what breathing style Naho can use, it’s you.” 

Genya’s eyebrows raised in surprise. Was that true? Was it possible?

“Thank you, sensei!” Naho said, bowing as she accepted her own ceramic cup from her master, then turned to Tanjiro, a note of wavery hope in her voice. “...Do you think you can teach me?”

“I can try!” Tanjiro exclaimed happily, though his smile fell a bit as Sanemi skipped past him, passing a cup to Genya instead. Deliberately. Spitefully. Genya took the cup in awkward hands, face reddening in embarrassment as he glanced at Tanjiro. The Sun Pillar looked at the cup, then Sanemi, then put the smile back on his face as he turned back to Naho. 

“Uh...Where should we start?”

It seemed Sanemi had only brought out four teacups. The Wind Pillar watched Tanjiro with all the smugness of a cat, taking the last cup off the tray and drinking it all down in a single slow swig, not breaking eye contact. 

What the hell, Genya thought as his heart twisted, Why’s he being so mean?

Worry needled at him. Sanemi’s barely-disguised hostility was sure to make even Tanjiro’s sunny disposition fade eventually. Was he hazing him? Trying to break him, or get him to grovel, or simply trying to get him to leave? 

Genya’s mouth twisted. He couldn’t just sit back and let it happen, but a slight smile crossed his face as a new idea crossed his mind.

“Here Tanjiro,” Genya said, a little louder than his usual speaking tone to make sure Sanemi heard him, “You can have mine.” 

“What.” Sanemi stood up straighter, shooting a disbelieving look at his brother, then a murderous glare at Tanjiro. “No.”

“Oh, haha,” Naho laughed, innocent of the plot. “Shinazugawa-Sensei, you made a mistake! There are five of us here! Don’t worry, I get my numbers confused sometimes too.”

“Huh, I thought you could count, Sanemi.” Giyuu said dryly. Sanemi whirled on him, teeth bared in a snarl, but Giyuu wasn’t fazed. “Looks like we retired you at the right time.”

Genya passed his cup while Sanemi was distracted. Tanjiro’s eyes went big, and he raised his hand in protest, a polite declination on the tip of his tongue, but Genya leaned a bit closer, giving him a wink and then glancing at his older brother from the corner of his eye as Giyuu held Sanemi in a quiet meltdown. Tanjiro’s protest fell away, and a merry kind of mischievous light danced in his eyes as they shared a secret look.

“Thank you, Genya,” Tanjiro smiled, taking the cup. He did not look at Sanemi, even as the Wind Pillar’s homicidal attention whipped back toward him. “That’s very kind of you!”

Tanjiro held the cup and wafted the steam lightly with his weak left hand. He closed his eyes and drank, long and sweet. His throat bobbed up and down as he swallowed, and a slight smile widened the corners of his mouth. On Genya’s right, Sanemi’s jaw gaped like a floundering fish, his eyes looking like they would bug out of his skull and fingers flexing like they wanted nothing more than to wring Tanjiro’s neck. 

“ Ah~ ” Tanjiro exhaled in delight as he swallowed the last of it, then turned those big innocent eyes on Sanemi. “Wow, Shinazugawa-San, you were right, that was delicious! Where did you say you got it again?” 

“I- you-!” Sanemi stammered, then steamed, grinding his back teeth together. “ Rrrrrrg… Nobody move. I’ll be right back.”

He turned on his heel and marched back into the house, shoulders up by his ears and hands in tight fists at his sides. Genya waited until he had fully disappeared into the hall before a snort escaped his nose. A stifled snicker escaped Tanjiro as well. Giyuu cracked a wry smile, and Naho laughed, though by the way she glanced uneasily between the rest of them, it seemed she hadn’t really understood what had just happened.

“He’s gonna kill me…” Tanjiro smiled nervously, eyes closed as he passed the cup back to Genya.

“Don’t mind him. He just gets a little… Territorial.” Giyuu rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry, I’ll knock some sense into him.”

“How was the tea?” Genya asked, sidling a bit closer to Tanjiro.

“Really good, actually.” He snickered. “Worth it.” 

Sanemi came out grumbling a few minutes later, a fresh lilac cup in one hand and a full steaming teapot in the other. He aggressively refilled Tanjiro’s cup, muttering something that sounded very much like “ fuckin’ lucky damn bastard Kamado ” under his breath, before whirling on his heel and refilling Giyuu’s cup as well with a string of similar expletives. He moved on (much more gently) to Naho, who hummed happily as he topped her off, then finally poured a cup for Genya. 

“Thanks, ‘Nemi,” Genya said, accepting the cup. Sanemi met his eye with a glare, but a weary kind of annoyed grin flashed across his mouth for a moment. 

He blew a puff of steam away, put the cup to his lip, and drank. 

It was good. The usual strong taste of tea was muted somewhat, giving it a certain freshness Genya hadn’t expected as notes of cinnamon and fragrant mitsuba leaf warmed on his tongue. An undercurrent of camellia honey swirled through the dark liquid, lending a slight sweetness that blended perfectly with the other flavors. 

“So…” Tanjiro said, turning back to the topic at hand and glancing at Naho. “Wind and Water Breathing aren’t working for you?”

“No…” Naho hung her head, finger tapping anxiously against the side of her cup. “I’m trying really hard, but… It’s just not coming.”

Genya bit his lip. This looked all too familiar. Luckily for the young girl, she had potential, and three of the greatest Hashira who had ever lived to mentor her. 

“You’ll get it.” Genya said, giving her a wan smile. “I know you can.”

“Thank you, Mr. Genya.” Naho grinned shyly, though her gaze flicked away a moment later. “I want to make my sisters proud.” 

“It took me a long time to learn Water Breathing.” Tanjiro put a hand to his chin, looking up at the sky. “Almost two years. But you’ve been working for a long time now as well, haven’t you?”

Naho nodded fiercely, making the green butterfly clips at the ends of her braids jingle.

“I think you’ll be able to get it, no problem. I believe in you.” Tanjiro gave an encouraging smile, then turned to Giyuu “How can I help?” 

“She’s got skills, but they don’t quite line up to what Wind and Water Breathing require.” Giyuu said, holding his cup aloft as he surveyed the Sun Pillar, then turned to Naho. “We don’t know if she’ll ever be able to perform either technique successfully.”

Naho’s shoulders sank, a slight twist in her mouth as she looked at the ground. Giyuu continued.

“Essentially, we want you to take what Naho can do, and adapt it into something new.” 

“If you can even do it…” Sanemi snarled, but his gaze softened as it lit on his young charge, practically squirming with eagerness to learn next to Tanjiro. 

The Sun Pillar set his cup down, a determined smile on his face.

“Alright then,” his eyes shone excitedly, “Let’s warm up!”

The Hashira moved, seemingly as one living, breathing, unified force. Genya blinked and Tanjiro was already across the yard, wooden bokuto snatched up from the white stones and whirling in a great fiery arc. Giyuu and Sanemi joined in the next instant, Wind and Water moving in practiced, fluid strikes out over the training ground. 

What the hell, Genya thought as his jaw dropped, eyes barely able to follow their movements as they streaked over the gravel. They’re supposed to be retired!

Once a Hashira, always a Hashira, he supposed, though an old flame of inadequacy stoked within him. He’d never been able to move like that. 

Even Naho joined in, retrieving another wooden practice blade from somewhere and diving into the melee. Her strokes didn’t have nearly the same power behind them as the others, who pulled their strikes back at the last moment to avoid accidentally maiming her as their blades clashed, but she still seemed to run at a near blur. It seemed Shinobu and Kanao had trained her well. She’d make a fine swordswoman one day. 

“Keep your guard up, around your shoulders!” Sanemi instructed as he whirled by in a sideways tornado of green slashes directly into Tanjiro, who blocked with a scorching upward slice.

“Yes, Sensei!” Naho shouted, squaring her stance and aiming a slash at Giyuu, who smiled encouragingly as he blocked it with a flurry of pinpoint thrusts like the ripples on the surface of a pond.

“Good!” Giyuu nodded, “Remember to put power into it by using the rotation of your hips!”

He demonstrated the technique, blade swirling like a whirlpool as his upper and lower body moved in opposite directions to fend off a sea of stray slashes as Tanjiro and Sanemi clashed again. 

Naho nodded, then screwed up her face and tried to mirror Giyuu as she moved forward with an advancing slash. Her legs moved one way, and her arms moved another, and her whirling bokuto slapped against Sanemi’s thigh. 

“ Ow , what the fu-” Sanemi started, whirling around with pure murder in his expression until he saw it was his Tsuguko who had struck him, looking up at him with big, guilty eyes. Fiery passion filled his gaze in an instant, and a wolfish grin stretched over his face. “ Yes! Exactly! Just like that!”

“Yes, Sensei!” Naho’s face lit up, and she squared her stance to try again.

They went on like that for another few minutes before a bout of coughing came from Tanjiro, and he slowed to a stop. Giyuu slowed next to him, and even Sanemi stopped his blade from striking against Tanjiro’s ribs, though it looked like the mercy pained him. 

“That was-” Tanjiro tried, then coughed again, “That was great! Whew, I haven’t moved like that in a while. ”

“You got slow, Kamado.” Sanemi jeered.

“Please, like you didn’t,” Giyuu scoffed, “Your guard was dropped on your right side the entire time. I hit you twice.” 

“I’m missing fingers, dumbass!”

“And I’m missing an arm.” Giyuu countered, “Yet you didn’t land a single hit on me.”

“Oh, piss off.” 

“You looked pretty amazing to me,” Genya said, moving to Tanjiro. He’d refilled his teacup when he’d started coughing, and offered it to him. 

“You think so?” Tanjiro said, a soft shine coming into his eyes as he took the cup. “Thank you. I know I’ll never be as good as I used to be, but still. It’s nice to see I can still do some things.”

Genya’s grin tightened a little. Once upon a time, he would have killed to be able to perform even one of the dozens of techniques Tanjiro had just pulled off, the movements as effortless and beautiful as the sun itself.

No, there’s no need for that, Genya thought, shoving down that negativity back where it belonged. The demons are gone. I’m with Sanemi again. I don’t need to learn any breathing technique anymore. 

“You were good too, Naho!” Tanjiro said, turning a sunny smile on the young girl. “Seeing how you fight, it gave me some ideas for things we could try!”

“Really?” Her eyes widened, “I’m so glad! Please, tell me!”

Tanjiro did. He gently corrected her stance, adjusting the distance of her sword from her body, the angle of the blade in her hand, the direction her knees pointed and the tension of her shoulders as she swung. Tiny, minute adjustments that Genya couldn’t quite understand. He could barely tell the difference, but it seemed the others could, as Giyuu’s eyes widened in realization and Sanemi huffed in irritated understanding.

That’s why they’re the master swordsmen… Genya thought wryly, turning his attention back to Tanjiro.

Sanemi and Giyuu joined in at Tanjiro’s invitation, and Naho was dismissed to take a break as the three Hashira discussed what Tanjiro had learned. Things that went over Genya’s head, like grip strength and swordarm reach and the lending of core muscles to the breath. Naho sat down next to him on the back steps as they talked between themselves, legs swaying back and forth anxiously. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked after a moment. Her bottom lip had twisted like an inchworm curling in on itself, and a misty sheen seemed to creep over her eyes. 

Naho glanced up at him, then down at the ground again, her hands worrying against the hem of the brown kimono at her lap. 

“...Do you really think I can do it?” She said, almost so low that Genya couldn’t hear. 

“Of course.” Genya blinked. “I saw the way you moved out there. You’ve got talent. You’ve got three great teachers here. It’s just a matter of time.”

Naho nodded slightly, but she didn’t seem convinced. 

“Can I ask…” Genya started, hoping he wasn’t overstepping. “Why are you so interested in learning? There are no more demons.”

“I know.” She hung her head. “That’s what Aoi and Kanao said, but… My whole family was killed by demons.” 

Genya nodded. It was a familiar story in the Corps.

“Even my adopted family. Kanae and Shinobu. They’re gone now, because of demons. All my sisters and I have left of them now is their legacy. Their swordsmanship and their medicine. Aoi, Sumi, Kiyo, and I decided that we’d practiced enough medicine, we wanted to get closer to them in other ways too.”

“Right…” Genya said slowly, “I think Aoi told us that when Sanemi and I were at the Butterfly Mansion last.” 

“Yeah,” Naho nodded, her voice small as she looked at the white stones. “It’s been our plan for a while now.”

“But you still seem…” Genya prompted. He didn’t actually know what the young girl felt, not exactly. Unsure? Unhappy? Something of the sort. 

“I’m embarrassed.” Naho admitted. “I feel useless. I was too weak to protect my family back when they died. I was too weak to help all the rest of you in the fight against Muzan. And even now that everything’s over, I’m still too stupid to learn Water Breathing or Wind Breathing.”

Her face reddened, and her bottom lip trembled. She looked seconds away from bursting into tears. Genya raised his hands in alarm, trying to summon up all the consolation he could muster. It had been a long time since he’d had to step into the role of Big Brother, and he was out of practice. 

“Whoa, hey,” He tried, making his gravelly voice as soft and soothing as he could manage, wary of Tanjiro, Giyuu, and Sanemi in the middle of a discussion only twenty feet away. “That’s not true, I’m sure you’ll get it!”

“It is true,” Naho buried her face in her hands, slightly muffling her voice. “I’m useless. That’s why they sent me here, because I couldn’t learn like Sumi and Kiyo learned.”

Genya’s eyes widened. Just how long had all this negativity been building within her?

“And not just with swords!” Naho continued, throwing her head back and practically yelling up at the sky. “I mess up making medicines all the time! It took me the longest to break the gourd! I forget what rooms patients are supposed to be in, and I’m no good at anything in the kitchen, so Aoi always makes me leave! I even mess up my numbers sometimes, like a baby! It’s no wonder they sent me away!”

Naho leaned her face back down into her hands and sniffled. 

“I just wish I could make my sisters proud.”

She cried quietly into her hands. Genya blinked, stunned, but sympathy welled in in him, threatening to overflow into his own eyes. It was time to be a good big brother again. He reached over, putting his hand on her shoulder. 

“Did you know I can’t use breathing techniques?”

Naho’s shoulders stop trembling. She took a breath, then looked up at him, confused face streaked with tears. 

“It’s true. Can’t use a single one.” 

“B-but…” Naho stammered, “You’re a Hashira. I was there at your promotion.” 

“So you saw how I acted like a baby as well.” Genya laughed, cringing internally as he recalled his own shameful display before Kiriya Ubuyashiki. Naho’s face twisted and she looked away, but she nodded. 

“That was because I felt useless too.” Genya continued. “I felt like I didn’t deserve it. How can I be a Hashira if I don’t even have that basic skill down?”

He looked down at Naho.

“How can you learn, if you don’t believe in yourself?”

“But…” Naho bit her lip, then met his gaze. “Didn’t you try? If you can’t do it, what if I can’t either?” 

“It’s not that I didn’t want to, I just can’t.” Genya shrugged. “Shinobu told me about it during one of my checkups. My lungs don’t work right. Ash-mar, I think she called it.” 

“Asthma.” Naho’s dark eyes shot open, and she recited as if recalling a medical textbook. “A long-term infection of the bronchioles, characterized by variable and recurring symptoms, reversible airflow obstruction, and easily triggered bronchospasms.” 

“Hey, look at that,” Genya grinned, “Sounds like you know your medicine to me.”

Naho smiled shyly, a slight blush warming her cheeks. 

“But yeah, I have that. If the air’s too thin, or if I’m somewhere dusty, or I’ve been exercising too long, it gets really hard to breathe. Can’t learn breathing techniques like that. My lungs could just never get strong enough.” 

The accelerated healing of his demon form prevented the attacks of breathlessness for the most part, just as they kept his body together. Which was good, as if he’d tried to do most of the things he could do as a demon without that added benefit, he would have asphyxiated long ago.

“But that didn’t stop me.” Genya shrugged, then looked at Tanjiro, swinging his sword in a demonstrative technique as Giyuu and Sanemi watched. “I found a way to keep fighting. We all work with what we have.” 

“Huh…” Naho said, eyes staring somewhere far away. 

“Do you have asthma?”

“No.” She shook her head. 

“Hmm. Sounds like you can learn breathing techniques then.” 

Naho chuckled, but it dulled quickly. 

“Mr. Genya…” She started, “What if… What if I just can’t? What if I really am useless?”

“Well, then you can’t.” Genya shrugged. “And that’s okay too. You’ll still find a way to honor your sister’s legacies, if that’s what you really want.”

She didn’t say anything, but slowly nodded. 

“And you’re not useless, by the way,” Genya said, lightly shoving her shoulder. “You heard all those compliments Giyuu and my brother were giving you, didn’t you? That proves it.”

Naho nodded again, but this time met his gaze. Genya took that as a good sign. 

“How old are you anyway, eleven? Twelve?”

“Ten.” Naho said, looking back down at the ground.

“ Ten? ” Genya exclaimed, not even bothering to ham up his disbelief for her benefit. “Ten years old, and already a Hashira’s Tsuguko, damn…” 

Naho looked up at him with a worried, almost plaintive expression, a breeze blowing her black bangs out of her dark eyes.  

“You’re young.” Genya said, drawing back to something Himejima had told him long ago. “You’re really young. You’re like… a sapling, you know? You have to give yourself time to sprout.”

He reached over and ruffled her hair, just as Sanemi had done to him and their siblings when they were young. Naho smiled, dimples appearing in her cheeks. It looked like she still had some of her baby teeth. 

 “Every tree grows in time. Besides, my brother would never take a useless Tsuguko.” 

Naho laughed, and a gratified feeling came into Genya’s chest. This laugh sounded real. 

“Like I said,” Genya looked out at Tanjiro, Sanemi, and Giyuu again, watching as they discussed the merits of an upward strike. “You’ve got three great teachers here. You’ve got talent, and all the time you need. I know you can do it if you believe in yourself.”

It was true. Genya had all the faith in the world that she could master the technique someday. 

“Hey, Naho!” Sanemi called, “We think we’ve got something, come over here!”

“Coming, Sensei!” Naho said, jumping to her feet.

She made it a few steps, then paused, turning to Genya as a complicated mix of emotions passed over her face. 

“Thank you Genya, but you’re wrong.” She said, then gave him a shy smile. “I think I have four great teachers here.”

Genya watched her scamper off towards the masters, a warm glow creeping its way into his chest and spreading over his face as he grinned.

They practiced one single swing, over and over. A rising uppercut of a strike, the tip of the blade starting down at Naho’s left ankle and rising up to behind her right shoulder. Tanjiro directed her through the entire movement again and again as the sun began to set, focusing on every part of her body from the set of her shoulders down to the tips of her toes. Naho’s face screwed up in determined concentration, but she lit up every time praise came from Tanjiro like a generous waterfall. 

“That’s it, keep going!” Tanjiro exclaimed. “You’re almost there, I can feel it!”

Naho nodded, and tried again, cleaving her wooden sword upward in a sweeping arc. Genya’s eyes widened, and he sat up straighter. Was that his imagination? For a moment, it seemed there was a flash of green in her strike.

“Deep breaths!” Sanemi encouraged next to Tanjiro. “Total Concentration, remember? Push the air all the way to the tips of your fingers and toes, like we practiced!”

“Right!” Naho nodded, taking a deep gulp of air through clenched teeth. She swung again. Genya hadn’t imagined it. There, for an instant, a definite sparkle of green light. Tanjiro grinned, and Sanemi’s mouth hung open in a huge smile. 

“Remember what you’re fighting for!” 

Naho screamed, the sound a ferocious roar from her tiny body. Her blade flew up, tracing a single precise line through the air. 

It was a darker green than Sanemi’s Wind Breathing. Richer, like pines in the mountain. The stroke was less jagged too, more fluid, like Water Breathing. It left a shimmery afterimage for a moment, almost like the tips of leafy treetops waving in the sky. 

Naho’s jaw dropped. Her shoulders and legs seemed to tremble for a moment and it looked as though she might fall, but she caught herself, staring down at the wooden sword in wonder. 

“ Yeah! ” Sanemi roared, rushing forward and sweeping her into a hug, practically tackling her as he skidded on his knees over the gravel. “ You did it! YOU DID IT!”

“A new technique…” Giyuu breathed in awe, his eyes wide as he rushed over to Naho as well. 

“How did you do it?” Genya asked Tanjiro, rising to his feet and hurrying to join the others. 

“It seemed simple enough.” Tanjiro shrugged, though gave a happy smile. “I just took the parts of Wind Breathing and Water Breathing that she could do, and put them together.” 

Genya raised an eyebrow. That did not sound simple. 

“I’m so proud of you!” Tanjiro said, turning his smile down on the young swordswoman as they approached. “I knew you could do it!” 

“Thank you, Tanjiro!” Naho exclaimed, happy tears rolling down the sides of her face as she pulled him into the hug as well. Sanemi looked morbidly infuriated to be pressed so close to him, but rolled his eyes and let it go, focusing on the joy of his Tsuguko.

“You have a whole new breathing style.” Giyuu said, an awestruck light in his eye as he came up next to Genya. “I’ve never seen anything like it before. What are you going to call it?”

“I get to name it?” Naho asked, looking perplexed. 

“It’s your technique, kid.” Sanemi laughed. “Who else?”

Naho looked down for a moment, face screwed up in thought, before looking up as the idea came to her. She smiled. 

“Leaf Breathing, First Form:” She said, then met Genya’s gaze. “Sprouting Sapling.”

The sun set, bathing the sky in silvery twilight. Sanemi and Giyuu went into the kitchen to prepare a very late dinner in celebration of Naho’s achievements and the arrival of their guests, but Naho wouldn’t be deterred. She and Tanjiro kept working on the technique, refining its strengths and discussing possibilities for other forms of Leaf Breathing they could develop. Genya watched them work for a while, a soft smile on his face, before he figured he’d better go and make himself useful as well. 

“I’m gonna go help my brother,” Genya called to Tanjiro, “I’ll set the table or something. We’ll call you inside when it’s ready.” 

“Okay, thank you!” Tanjiro waved back happily, then went back to adjusting Naho’s stance. 

“Thank you Mr. Genya!” Naho called, a toothy grin on her face before she turned back to the task at hand. 

Sword nerds, Genya snickered to himself as he headed to the door. They’d probably be out here all night if none of us stopped them. 

He stepped into the cool Wind Estate, sliding the door shut quietly behind him. A few lamps glowed in the hallway, and the smell of salmon and hearty vegetables filled the air. Sanemi and Giyuu were probably hard at work in the kitchen. He retraced his steps through the house, feet quiet on the smooth wood boards until he heard voices up ahead, along with the smell of cooking food.

“-I told you inviting Tanjiro was a good idea,” Giyuu’s voice came from around the corner. “He did in a single afternoon what we couldn’t do even after weeks of trying.”

Genya slowed. He usually wasn’t one to eavesdrop, but maybe he’d finally learn what this chip on Sanemi’s shoulder about Tanjiro was for.

“Yeah, yeah,” Sanemi said irritably. “Stir the daikon, you’re gonna burn it.”

“You’ve already burned the salmon.”

“It’s seared, dumbass, seared. ” Sanemi growled, “There’s a difference.”

“Ah, right. My mistake.” Giyuu replied, though his tone sounded anything but apologetic. 

Why the hell did Sanemi invite Giyuu to *live* here? Genya frowned, pressing himself closer to the wall. I know I told him to try and make friends, but I just meant they should talk more or exchange letters or something. It’s obvious they don’t get along. 

“ Rrrrrrg, come here, you smug bastard.”

Genya flinched, bracing himself for the sound of a smack or a punch. It sounded like they fought like this every day. Really, why hadn’t Sanemi kicked the Water Pillar out already?

But that sound never came. 

No, in its place was a new sound. An unexpected sound. A sound only made when two people were…

No, Genya thought, shaking away those impolite thoughts from his head and finally peeking around the corner. It can’t be.

The kitchen was about fifteen feet long and ten feet wide. A fire had been stoked under a stovetop built into the long counter, where several pink salmon fillets sizzled nicely in a savory herbal oil, their edges crisping to a golden brown. Several daikon radishes had been chopped up and set in a pot to boil, hanging on a hook just under the stove and over the flames. Their tops scattered over the sleek black stone counter, along with some spices and pastes and ingredients Genya couldn’t tell from where he stood. More ingredients filled the shelves above the counter, vegetables and sacks of rice and jars of vinegar and oil, and there at the end of the counter he thought he saw a real icebox, but he wasn’t paying attention to that. 

No. The first thing his eye caught was Giyuu’s fingers curling through the back of Sanemi’s hair. Sanemi’s right hand gripped tight on Giyuu’s waist, and his left hand cradled his jaw. Their mouths interlocked, lips moving in passionate synchrony, almost like a dance as Sanemi pressed Giyuu against the counter. 

Genya’s own mouth flopped open in slack-jawed amazement.

“ What the fuck? ” 

Chapter Text

He’d spoken aloud before he could stop himself, and clapped his hand over his mouth as if that would mask his presence. Giyuu’s blue eyes shot open, meeting Genya’s at the doorway to the kitchen. He hurriedly stopped kissing his brother. Sanemi’s shoulders tensed and he turned, casting an almost guilty look behind him as he stepped away, his face red with both heat and embarrassment. 

“What the fuck? ” Genya repeated, too blindsided to be embarrassed anymore. 

“Shit…” Sanemi muttered, putting his hand to his face. Giyuu looked between the Shinazugawa brothers awkwardly. “You weren’t supposed to find out like this.”

“F-find out?” Genya stammered, “I- you- what? ”

“Well. I’ll go get Tanjiro, I suppose…” Giyuu said tactfully, turning to walk out the door. “It was part of why we invited you here, after all.”

“Hey, he’s my brother, he can come any time he wants,” Sanemi snapped after him, but Giyuu simply waved him off. 

Genya couldn’t speak. His mind whirled with a dozen possible explanations. It was a joke, a prank or something. Maybe Giyuu had choked, and Sanemi was just performing CPR on him. Maybe they had been fighting, and had both decided to bite each other’s faces off instead of using their fists. Anything made more sense than the intimate scene he’d walked in on .

The sound of the sliding door swishing shut came from behind them, and Sanemi finally met his gaze. 

“So…” He started, face still a little red. 

Genya made a strangled kind of grunt in response.

“Are you… mad at me?” Sanemi asked. 

Something about the way he looked just now startled Genya, like Sanemi was a wounded puppy, nervous and trembling as it stepped out into the light. Just how he’d looked when they were younger, and their father had hit him. Sanemi had never let any of their younger siblings see him like that, but Genya had glimpsed the expression on his face once or twice. 

“What?” 

“I know it must be a shock,” Sanemi shook his head, then took a breath, as if bracing himself. “Seeing your older brother, well, like that, with another man… And I understand if you can’t accept it. I just…” He looked up, meeting Genya’s gaze. “I wanted you to know.”

“Hold on,” Genya waved his arms, “I’m not, like, angry at you or anything, you can kiss whoever the hell you want, it’s not my business.”

Sanemi straightened a little, like a weight had lifted from his soul. A tinge of wariness ebbed out of his face. 

“I…” Genya floundered, “I just… Tomioka? You hate Tomioka.” 

“Haha, yeah, well.” Sanemi laughed dully, then met his eye. “We talked a bit after the Hashira meeting. He invited me on a trip out into the country together. I didn’t have shit else to do with you gone with the Kamado brat and his freak squad, so I took him up on it. We got to talking, and, well. Turns out we’ve got a lot in common.” 

“I… can see that…” Genya swallowed hard, staring at the space on the counter where Giyuu and his brother had been kissing only seconds ago. He was sure his face was as red as a carnation.

“You’re sure you’re not mad?” Sanemi asked, giving him a wary glance. “It’s a lot to take in, believe me, I know, but-”

“I’m not mad.” Genya said, finally calming himself down a little. “Just, surprised. I… I didn’t know two men could…” 

“Turns out, it’s pretty common.” Sanemi shrugged. “That’s what Tomioka says. He had a friend when he was younger that he kinda had a thing with. It happens everywhere, people just don’t talk about it.” 

“Huh…” Genya thought, mind wandering to a pair of ruby and cracked-pink eyes. Warm hands. Nice teeth, and a near-constant smile. 

What would it feel like to kiss Tanjiro, pressed up against the counter like that?

He shook those thoughts away before he burst another blood vessel. Now was not the time. 

“So…” Genya looked up. “You’re happy?” 

A softness came into Sanemi’s scarred face. He looked at Genya, then toward the back door where Giyuu had disappeared. 

“Sure. I’m happy.” 

“I’m glad.” Genya smiled. “You’ve earned it.”

“Oh, don’t give me that,” Sanemi rolled his eyes, then stepped forward to ruffle his mohawk. “Life just takes you to unexpected places sometimes, that’s all.” 

“I’m serious,” Genya said, rolling his head out of his brother’s grasp. “I’m glad you found someone that makes you happy. I was… Kinda worried about leaving you all on your own here.” 

“Pfft, you don’t gotta worry about me, that’s my job.” Sanemi smiled under flat eyes, “But thank you. Now come on, let’s go see what’s taking them so long.” 

He stood up straighter from the counter, then started walking to the door Genya followed, briefly wishing he hadn’t left his walking stick by the back door as he shuffled and limped to catch up to him. Sanemi paused, eyes sweeping over him to make sure he was okay, then continued down the long hall. 

For a brief, terrifying second, Genya’s heart spasmed as he recalled the last time he’d been alone in these halls with his brother. The shouting. The begging. The hard fingers, millimeters from driving through his eyes and into his skull. 

He blinked, and shook his head. It was okay. They were past that. The Sanemi in front of him was his brother again, for real this time, not the isolated, unreachable Hashira he had been for so many years.

The back door was still open. Sanemi stopped at the threshold, watching as Giyuu, Tanjiro, and Naho approached. 

“Hi!” Tanjiro greeted with a grin, “Giyuu said we all needed to talk, is everything okay?”

“Fine.” Sanemi said stiffly, crossing his arms over his chest and not meeting his eye. 

Tanjiro’s grin tightened in slight frustration, and he looked to Genya for clarity. Genya didn’t know how the hell to explain the situation, so he simply shrugged and raised his eyebrows a little. 

“Naho,” Giyuu said, turning towards the young Tsuguko. “The four of us need to have a private conversation in the other room. Can you set the table?”

“Private conversation?” Naho tilted her head. 

She looked between Sanemi and Giyuu. A light of understanding came into her eyes as a coy smile came to her mouth. 

“Of course! Right away!”

She hurried off, face screwed up in the same kind of squealing glee that Genya had often seen on the Love Pillar when their paths had crossed in the Swordsmith Village. He raised an eyebrow, then turned to Sanemi. 

She knows? He communicated with just a look, the way that only siblings could. 

Shut up. Sanemi responded in kind with a flash of his eyes, though his face reddened a little. Genya grinned. For being taboo, it didn’t seem like Sanemi and Giyuu were trying very hard to hide it. 

Well, what do they have to fear, it’s not like anyone could send them to jail, He thought, imagining the carnage that was sure to follow if anyone dared to lay a finger on the Wind Hashira. God help any poor fool who tried to harm Giyuu, now that he was the object of some very possessive affections.

“So what do we have to discuss?” Tanjiro asked again, looking between the others in mild confusion.

“Whether or not you’ll be alive by this time tomorrow.” Sanemi growled. Tanjiro blinked, taken aback. 

“Sanemi, please.” Giyuu rolled his eyes, then opened another sliding door and ushered them all into a wide room. “Don’t worry, this won’t take long.”

Tanjiro didn’t say anything, but shared a slightly alarmed look with Genya for a moment. Genya grit his teeth. If Tanjiro took the news poorly, if things were never the same between them again, well. Sanemi would have no issue following up on his threat.

Four gold and green embroidered seating cushions lay on the floor like the corners of a rectangle, two on either side of the room. Sanemi and Giyuu took to the far set, leaving Tanjiro and Genya to the closer pair. Genya slid the door closed behind him, then knelt on the cushion. 

“...It smells like you’re nervous.” Tanjiro said slowly, giving Giyuu a worried look. “Did something happen? Are you okay? Is this about the mark?”

Genya’s eyes widened. He’d forgotten all about the curse of the mark. He glanced over to Tanjiro, and the flame-shaped maroon scar on his forehead.  

“We’re fine.” Giyuu nodded, and Tanjiro’s shoulders relaxed a little, no doubt sniffing out the truth in his words. “Everything’s okay. We just have… a bit of an announcement.”

“We would have told you together,” Sanemi started, then shot a glare at Genya. “But someone was being a little snoop. ”

“Told us what?” Tanjiro blinked, then turned to Genya. “What are they talking about?”

Genya opened his mouth, then realized he didn’t have words for the situation. He snapped it shut again, giving a warbly and apologetic shrug to Tanjiro before turning back to their older brothers.

“I guess… this is about the mark, in a sense.” Giyuu started, glancing at Sanemi. “We know we don’t have a lot of time left. We can feel it.” 

Sanemi’s mouth set in a grim line. He nodded. Genya’s heart cracked at the reminder. 

One day, and one day soon, he would have to say goodbye. 

“So we’ve decided to make the most of the rest of our lives.” Giyuu reached over with his left hand. Sanemi took it immediately, holding Giyuu’s hand tightly in his own. “No more questions, no more doubts.” 

Giyuu looked Sanemi in the eye, a peaceful kind of affection in his gaze. Sanemi mirrored the expression, and gave Giyuu's hand a squeeze.

“Long story short,” Giyuu continued, looking back at Tanjiro. “We’re, well, together.” 

No one moved. No one spoke. A furrow of confusion needled its way between Tajiro’s eyebrows. 

“Like, together here at the Wind Estate?” Tanjiro frowned. “I know, you told me in your letter.” 

Genya snickered. It seemed like Tanjiro’s obliviousness didn’t just extend to him. Across from them, Giyuu looked slightly surprised and lost for words, while Sanemi’s eyebrows nearly shot off his face in irritation. Tanjiro looked between them all, his confusion deepening every second.

“What? What do you mean?”

“For fuck’s sake, Kamado!” Sanemi shouted, then turned to Giyuu, cupping his face in both hands. “Here! Watch closely!”

Sanemi pulled Giyuu forward and kissed him. He drew it out long and sweet, his hands moving over Giyuu’s face with a kind of tenderness Genya had never seen him show to anyone outside of family before. Like he was holding something precious. Genya smiled despite himself. Seeing Sanemi kiss anyone was still a little alarming, but at least his brother seemed happy. 

Next to him, Tanjiro’s mouth dropped open like a whiskered carp. His eyes looked like they might bulge out from his sockets and roll across the light green silk rug. 

“There,” Sanemi said, pulling away from a dizzy-looking Giyuu and wiping his sleeve over his mouth. “You get it now?”

“Y-yes…” Tanjiro managed to say, hands bunching at the edges of his checkered haori as he looked at the ground, a ruddy flush high in his cheeks. 

“You okay?” Genya asked, leaning a little into his line of sight.

Tanjiro nodded slowly, like he was still processing. He glanced up at Genya, flushed a bit more, and then looked across the room.

“So… you two…” He started, looking between the Wind and Water pillars. His face went redder than ever and he looked down. “You two, l-love each other?”

“That’s a bit of a stretch…” Sanemi grumbled.

“We have an understanding, yes.” Giyuu nodded. 

“And… how long have you had this understanding?” Genya asked, a tiny part of him still reeling a bit at the news too. 

“About a month, now.” Giyuu tilted his head, considering. 

“It’ll be a month in two days, airhead.” Sanemi growled. “And don’t forget it.”

Genya couldn’t help a slight smile. Sanemi had always been very particular about anniversaries. 

“Wow…” Tanjiro breathed, “I can’t believe it…”

“Got a problem, punk?” Sanemi demanded. 

“No, no! Not at all!” Tanjiro said, waving his arms before Sanemi could fly across the room and destroy him. “It’s just surprising, that’s all!”

“Hmmph.” Sanemi sat back on his cushion. “Well, get used to it.”

Tanjiro did, almost faster than Genya had. The brief flash of shock had been replaced with nothing but bright curiosity, and he peppered the men with questions. Questions Genya wouldn’t ever think to ask, but they flowed naturally from Tanjiro, one after the other.

“Who confessed first?”

“Sanemi did.” 

“Did not!”

“Did too.” Giyuu raised an eyebrow. “I was there, remember?”

“How are you going to have kids if you’re both men?”

“It’s not like we’re married, dumbass!” Sanemi threw out his arms to the sides impatiently.

“...I don’t think children will be an issue for us, Tanjiro.”

“Hmm. Okay, do you share a room?” 

“Yeah, upstairs, perv.” Sanemi rolled his eyes.

“If you share a room, who makes up the bed in the morning?”

“...Whoever gets up last, I suppose.”

“How long have you liked each other?” 

“Since a month ago, shit-for-brains, I told you-”

“Since I first saw him.” 

Sanemi stopped, mouth open as he blinked in surprise. 

“...Really?” 

“Yeah…” Giyuu glanced away for a moment, then looked at Sanemi from the corner of his eye. “You seemed so cool and strong. I wanted to be friends.”

Sanemi put a fist to his mouth, slightly pink as he looked the other way. 

“Anyway, enough questions,” Sanemi said, still not looking at anybody as he slapped his hands on his knees and then rose. “Let’s eat.” 

Genya rose, giving his brother a knowing smile. Sanemi returned with an eyeroll, and all four of them left the room. 

“You took that pretty well,” Genya said to Tanjiro as they walked out the door, following a good distance behind Sanemi and Giyuu. “I thought you’d be more surprised.”

“Well it wasn’t what I was expecting,” he chuckled, “but I don’t know. I’m happy for them.” 

“So… You accept it?” 

“Sure.” Tanjiro shrugged, “Giyuu is like an older brother to me. Sanemi is, well, Sanemi, no offense, but he makes Giyuu happy, so how could I not accept it?”

“I don’t know,” Genya shrugged, “I just kinda thought you might not know a lot about this kind of stuff.” 

“What, different kinds of relationships?” Tanjiro raised an eyebrow with a slight smirk. “I worked in the Entertainment District for a while, you know. I’m not that naive.”

Ah, right, their adventure in the red light district. He’d heard all about their time undercover, and the disguises that came with it. He swallowed hard. He’d always been nervous around girls, but if Tanjiro were the girl in front of him, well. He didn’t know if his poor heart could take it. Luckily only Inosuke continued to wear the disguise, seemingly taking delight in putting on a beautiful kimono and a touch of Nezuko’s makeup every so often when they went into town, collecting attention like it was effortless. Inosuke really did make a beautiful figure, but his favorite part of the charade seemed to be when he would break character without warning, shouting with his deep gravelly voice that everyone around him had been pranked and then jumping up to the roofs of buildings, where he’d parade around as people gawked down below. He’d always liked making a spectacle. 

Naho looked up as the four of them entered the dining room, a sly smile on her face as she glanced between Giyuu and Sanemi, who sat on the right side, then Tanjiro and Genya, who sat on the left. Naho herself took a seat at the bottom of the table, leaving the seat at the top open so they could all look out the window on the wide training ground and the ornamental flowers blooming softly in the rising moonlight. They thanked Sanemi and Giyuu for the meal, then started to eat.

“So how’d your private conversation go, Shinazugawa-Sensei?” Naho asked casually, lifting a bit of seared salmon with her chopsticks.

Sanemi reddened, but he turned away, grumbling something under his breath. 

“It went very well, Naho.” Giyuu said in his place. Sanemi’s eyes flashed, but he didn’t say anything. “Thank you for asking.”

Naho giggled a little, putting her hand over her mouth, before sliding a sly glance at Genya to her left. 

“They’ve been very happy together. Mr. Shinazugawa even makes us all salmon daikon every week.” 

“‘Course I do,” Sanemi huffed, spearing into a piece of white radish and shoving it into his mouth, deliberately not looking at anybody as he chewed, then mumbled. “...It’s his favorite.” 

Giyuu smiled softly, setting his left hand just above Sanemi’s knee under the table.

They ate dinner quickly, having spent most of the day building up an appetite with Naho’s training. Even Genya ate about half his portion, sliding the rest over to Tanjiro, who gave him a knowing glance before polishing off his leftovers. They congratulated the young swordswoman on her new technique once again as she retired for the evening, then Sanemi led them to the guest quarters on the first floor. 

“Washroom is just down there,” He pointed down one of the many sprawling passageways of the mansion, “And there’s another one on the other side of the house. And, oh, don’t go in this room, that’s where I keep my rhino beetles.” 

“Rhino beetles?” Genya asked. 

“Yeah,” Sanemi said with a slight smile, “I saw a fighting ring where people would bet on them on one of my missions and cheered for the winner. I really liked the little guy, so when the fight was over, I asked its owner if I could buy him. Then I bought another, and another, and, well. I’ve got a bunch of them now.” 

“Huh.” Genya blinked. He hadn’t expected that of Sanemi. Rhino beetles looked too much like the roaches that would crawl their way into their old apartment to him, but if Sanemi liked them, they must be kinda cool. 

A wry twist came to his mouth, almost a smile. There was a lot he and his brother had to catch up on.

“That’s really cool, Shinazugawa-san!” Tanjiro piped up in an effort to bridge the cold shoulder. 

“Hmm.” Sanemi acknowledged, barely. Tanjiro’s face fell a little bit, but he exchanged a play-exasperated glance with Genya.

“They keep getting out of the damn cages, somehow,” Sanemi continued, glaring at the door of the beetle room. “But they haven’t figured a way out of that room yet, so as long as the door is closed it should be fine. I’ll show them to you tomorrow when I can make sure none of them escape.”

“Got it,” Genya said, making a note to not open random doors in the mansion. The less chance of a giant beetle flying at his face, the better.

“Your rooms are just down this hall,” Sanemi turned a corner to the right. “This one’s yours, Kamado.” 

He slid the white door open, revealing nicely-fitted quarters. Spacious, with a real bed, not just a futon, as well as a stand of drawers and some pretty silk wall hangings over an incense pot that smelled of sorrel and elm leaves. 

“Thank you, Shinazugawa-san! I’ll-”

“You’re welcome.” Sanemi said flatly, practically shoving Tanjiro inside and slamming the sliding door shut behind him. Genya’s eyebrows flicked together a touch. Hmm. He’d have to do something about that. 

He turned the corner after Sanemi, then froze. 

This was where it had happened. Where he’d tried to reconcile with his brother, only a few months ago. 

“ Hey, wait up, aniki! There’s something I want to tell you… ”

“ You need to give it a rest. I don’t have a younger brother. If you don’t back off, I’m going to destroy you. ”

“ ... ”

  “ Stop talking to me like we’re close. From the looks of you, you have zero skills. Just quit the Demon Slayer Corps. If you can’t even use breathing techniques, don’t call yourself a swordsman! ”

“ But… I’ve been wanting to apologize to you all this time! ”

“ I seriously couldn’t care less. Now get lost. ”

“ But, listen, I-I… I even ate demons, to go on fighting…”

A slow turn of a white-haired head. Wide, crazed eyes. An overpowering presence that seemed to suck all the wind out of the room. Sanemi was gone, then appeared again faster than Genya could blink, fingers extended hardly a hair’s-breadth away from his fearful eyes and driving in quick as speeding bullets. A slash of air slit across his face, right above the scar his mother had given him. 

His breath felt slow and ragged, cold on the roof of his mouth. The wall Tanjiro had tackled him through had been repaired, but the newly-dried plaster looked slightly paler than the old stuff. The thin scent of wood varnish still hung in the air where new paneling had been recently stained, and there on the edges of the polished wood floor, he could still see the sharp outlines of old splinters wedged in the cracks.

It’s okay. He thought, trying to calm his racing heart. You’re okay. Everything is fine. Things are different now. It’s fine. 

“...Big house.” Genya muttered, his voice a little shaky as he tried to change the subject to soothe his rattled senses.

“Yeah,” Sanemi said with a slight snicker, then turned and met his gaze. Genya’s shoulders relaxed a bit at the warmth in his brother’s eyes. “Remember when we were kids, and we’d talk for hours about living in a place like this?” 

“You wanted a koi pond.” Genya nodded, the corners of his mouth slowly turning up again as he recalled their old dreams. “And a whole bedroom for the dog you’d have. And a room for all our toy soldiers.” 

“Haha, right, all the toy soldiers we could never afford.” Sanemi’s eyes shone with nostalgia. He glanced at Genya again, almost hesitant. Like he had a secret. “...Remember those samurai figures we used to spend hours looking at in Mr. Ichikawa’s fine goods store?”

“Yeah!” Genya smiled, “They were so cool! You wanted to buy a hundred of them, and we would play war with them across the room.”

“Right. Too bad they cost more than mom made in a month.” Sanemi snickered ruefully, before turning back to Genya. “And you wanted a room full of pillows, so you could jump in and sleep whenever you wanted.” 

“And of course, all the food we could eat.” Genya said, and Sanemi laughed. 

“Naturally.” Sanemi agreed, then his eyes softened as he looked at the wall. “Everything we couldn’t have…” 

“It’s a great house, ‘Nemi.” Genya said, coming up to his side and taking the edge of his brother’s sleeve in his hand, just like he had when they were kids. He looked around. The place was huge, no question . There was more than enough space for each of their siblings to have had their own room, if they were still alive. Maybe even two. 

“It’s just a shame…” Genya started. “A place like this doesn’t feel as good when it’s empty…”

Sanemi’s eyes hardened.

“Yeah, well,” he huffed, “Sorry I’m not stuffing my house full of strays like Kamado.”

Oh. Shit. 

“That’s not what I meant, I-”

“ Tch, right,” Sanemi said, glancing over Genya’s clothes before jerking his sleeve out of his grasp. “You’re really getting comfortable there, huh? Don’t think I haven’t noticed your haori.”

“What about it?” Genya asked, clutching his arms around himself, as if trying to protect Nezuko’s handiwork. “‘Nemi, what’s this about?”

“I’m just wondering how long you’re planning on keeping this little visit of yours going.” Sanemi crossed his arms, looking him in the eye. “You’re wearing the Kamado cloth, don’t tell me you’re choosing the brat that almost let you split again. I keep telling you, you have a place here, with me . Don’t tell me you’re renouncing your own family .” 

Genya’s molars ground together as his mouth pressed in a thin line. That wasn’t fair. Tanjiro had done his best to save him. Done more than he should have, to spare Genya from his inevitable fate. He’d worked for hours, diligent as a surgeon as he’d made sure Genya was clean and comfortable and doing everything he could to keep him from falling apart. Tanjiro hadn’t rested until he was sure Genya would survive, and it wasn’t fair. 

But still, something else Sanemi had said gnawed deeper.

“You renounced me first…” He muttered, then clenched his jaw shut. No. Sanemi had been a Hashira when Genya was just a trainee, he’d been important. He’d had real work to do. Genya would have just slowed him down, maybe even put him in danger with his own lack of skill. 

He’d clamped his traitorous mouth shut, but the damage was done. Sanemi turned, slow and deliberate, just as he had a few months ago. His head cocked at a dangerous angle.

“ What? ”

“Nothing, I-I shouldn’t have said any-”

“No, come on. You got something to say? Say it.” 

“Really, I d-didn’t-”

“ Say it. ” Sanemi repeated. 

Genya’s lip trembled. Fear cowered within him, and he wanted nothing more than to curl up into a ball as Sanemi towered over him, a shadow of the monster from their youth. 

Sometimes, when Sanemi looked at him like that, the twists of his face made him look almost like Kyogo Shinazugawa. 

Even so. Something burned deeper than fear. 

“ I don’t like how he treated you for so long… ” Tanjiro’s voice echoed in his mind.

Genya grit his teeth. He didn’t like how Sanemi had treated him for so long either.

“Well?” Sanemi demanded, crossing his arms.

“Well what?! ” Genya exploded, throwing his own arms open. “You did renounce me! Right here in this hall, or did you forget?!”

Sanemi’s eyes widened, like he hadn’t actually expected Genya to fight back. He glanced around the hall, a trace of guilt coming into the slight squint of his eyes as they took in where they were. The floor, the hall, the drying plaster. 

Not guilty enough. Genya thought, eyes narrowing as he pressed on.

“You stood right there, and told me you had no brother! To my face, when all I wanted to do was apologize to you! How the fuck do you think that made me feel?!”

“You shouldn’t have been here at all! ” Sanemi protested, his voice rising in a growl, but a fearful kind of light shone behind his eyes. Genya was right, and Sanemi knew it. “For fuck’s sake, this is dangerous work, Genya! How do you think I felt, knowing my little brother was out there, eating fucking demons just to stand a chance of surviving?! I did what I had to do!”

“Oh, right,” Genya rolled his eyes, “by trying to blind me, of course. Hey dumbass, did you think that through? Did you really think the master would let you keep being a Hashira after blinding a fellow Corps member?”

A harsh crack came as Sanemi slammed his fist into the wall. Something their father always used to do, whenever he’d felt like he wasn’t getting the respect he deserved. A warning shot, before those big hands started beating on little bodies. Genya grit his teeth, but didn’t flinch.

“You shouldn’t have been a Corps member in the first place!” Sanemi roared. “You’re weak Genya, you always have been!”

“No.” Genya’s jaw stiffened. “You just didn’t believe in me.” 

The Moon Hashira rose to his full height, looking down on his brother. An uncertain look came into Sanemi’s eyes. 

“You couldn’t have won against Kokushibo without my help. You told me so yourself. You also told me you never wanted me to call myself weak again, remember? I guess that rule doesn’t apply to you though, huh?”

Sanemi’s face twitched as he tried to rise to a hot retort, but he looked down to the side again. 

“You’re right. I shouldn’t have said that just now. But that was what I thought before, when I didn’t know what you were capable of.”

“You never gave me a chance!” Genya protested, voice rising. “You wouldn’t let me tell you what I’d learned! God, you wouldn’t even let me apologize! ”

“It’s alright, Genya! You proved yourself! I know you’re strong now, I’m sorry!”

“I’m your brother! ” Genya exclaimed, his voice on the edge of a wail. “I shouldn’t have had to prove myself for you to fucking talk to me!”

Sanemi grit his teeth, a bead of sweat rolling down the side of his face. 

“I didn’t want you to get hurt! It was the only way I could keep you safe, the only way I could-”

“ You abandoned me! ” Genya screamed. 

And there it was, out in the open, rushing out of him like air from a punctured lung. The secret hurt, the truth he hadn’t dared face, even as he’d spent his nights sobbing into his hands, wishing that his big brother would come back. 

Every letter that went undelivered. Every time he’d tried to send a message through Gyomei. Every time he’d tried to track down his location, or surprise him here at the Wind Estate, only to be turned away. 

Every point of contact he’d tried to make, dropping like useless falling leaves on the ground around him. It had all been for nothing. Sanemi had made his choice. 

That was the truth of why he hadn’t wanted to move into the Wind Estate here with his brother after the final battle, he understood now. When it counted most, Sanemi hadn’t been there for him. 

But Tanjiro had. 

Tanjiro, with his bright eyes and positive attitude, who made Genya feel like anything was possible. Who had fought by his side that awful night in the Swordsmith Village, and who shared his hopes with him as they trained together on Gyomei’s mountain. Tanjiro, who had opened his heart and home to him, who watched over him and made every sacrifice to make sure Genya was okay. 

At the end of the day, Tanjiro made him feel like he wasn’t worthless. 

Sanemi had discarded him like trash. 

“You abandoned me.” Genya continued, chest heaving as tears streamed down his face. “You left me to clean up the bodies of our brothers and sisters. You left me to come up with the rent money so that I didn’t end up in a debtor’s prison. You left me alone on the streets, not even knowing if you were alive or dead , wherever you were.”

Sanemi crumpled, all the fight gone out of him. He couldn’t meet Genya’s gaze. His jaw trembled, and his hands bunched in and out of anxious fists.

“You’re my family. The last family I had. How could I not chase after you?”

Sanemi’s mouth pressed in a tight line, like a dam unwilling to break even as his eyes shone with the beginning traces of tears.

“...Your room is here.” He said after a moment, his voice warbling slightly as he turned and gestured to an unassuming sliding door. “I prepared it for you earlier. I… I’m gonna… I should go.” 

Sanemi’s jaw clenched. He turned away from Genya, then stepped quietly down the hall. Genya’s righteous fury ebbed away with him, and he deflated like a regretful pufferfish. 

“‘Nemi, wait,” He sighed, calling after him. “Please, I didn’t mean-”

But it was too late. Sanemi’s footsteps disappeared around the corner. Guilt poured like cold water over Genya’s shoulders. 

He’d gone too hard, he knew that now. He’d gotten caught up in the moment, and his rage had gotten the best of him again. Just like Himejima had always cautioned him against. He’d never been a very good Buddhist, not like his master had been. 

His knees felt like they were about to buckle beneath him, and an anxious buzzing filled his chest. Why was he always so impulsive, why couldn’t he think with a clear head? Why couldn’t he reason through his words before letting his emotions get the best of him? Why did he have to fight with Sanemi, just as their relationship was getting back to normal?

A new emotion plunged into him, cold as a knife. 

Had he just ruined things with his brother for good?

“Are you okay?” A voice said quietly from behind him. Genya’s shoulders drooped. Tanjiro. He should’ve known. 

“I heard you two fighting,” Tanjiro came closer, his right hand extended to Genya as he looked around for any sign of Sanemi. “Did something happen? He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

“No, I’m okay.” Genya sighed. “You shouldn’t be here, Tanjiro.”

“I know, I’m sorry, it’s not my business,” Tanjiro shook his head, then looked down the hall, to the newly-replaced wall he had tackled Genya through only a few months ago. His eyes narrowed. “I just wanted to make sure. Last time we were here… Things didn’t end so well.” 

Genya’s heart cracked. He remembered Tanjiro’s face after the incident, puffy and purple and bleeding in the aftermath of Sanemi’s assault. His cracked ribs and beaten skin, every blow he’d taken, all for Genya’s sake. 

“...I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t have had to see that. Any of it.” 

“It’s fine, really.” Tanjiro shook his head, his eyes glowing with determination. “I’m not scared of your brother. And I’m glad you finally stood up to him. I’m proud of you, Genya.” 

Genya smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He didn’t feel proud. 

“Still, that was a lot.” Tanjiro said, glancing off in the direction Sanemi had disappeared, then looking in Genya’s eyes again. “How are you feeling?” 

“...I don’t know.” 

“Do you need anything? I can make you some tea, or see if there’s an extra blanket around, or maybe go look for somewhere else for us to stay, if you need it?” 

“It’s too late for that.” Genya said. The fatigue of the day pounded into his bones, creaking stiffly around his joints and pounding in the back of his head, running hot and ragged through his long scar. “I think I just want to go to bed.” 

“Alright,” Tanjiro nodded, “But at least let me give you this.” 

He stepped forward, sliding under Genya’s arms and wrapping him in a tight hug. Even his weak left arm, the one that could hardly move, found the strength to rise and wrap around him as Tanjiro buried his face in Genya’s chest.

Genya’s arms rose carefully around Tanjiro’s shoulders, hugging him back. 

It should have felt warm. It should have felt bright and sunny, like the feelings an embrace from Tanjiro usually brought. All that came was a tiny sparkle of light, swept up immediately in the icy storm of Genya’s writhing emotions. He felt numb, indifferent to the world around him. He felt hot and volatile, like he could erupt at any moment. He felt guilty and sad, the emotions surging like waves of slick black oil through his guts. 

“Do you… want me to stay with you tonight?” Tanjiro asked, looking up at him with something almost like hope shining in his eyes. 

Genya swallowed stiffly. As tempting as the offer might be under normal circumstances, he couldn’t allow it. Not tonight, anyway. He didn’t deserve such a luxury. Not after everything he’d said to Sanemi. 

“...That’s alright. I’ll be okay. Good night, Tanjiro.” 

“Alright,” Tanjiro nodded, breaking away from him. “I’ll be just down the hall if you need anything though. Anything at all. Good night, Genya.” 

Tanjiro gave him one last meaningful glance, light glancing off the smooth maroon scar on his forehead. The mark that would one day claim his bright life as well. Genya’s teeth worried together in his mouth.

Tanjiro turned and walked down the hall. Genya watched him disappear around the corner, then released the air in his lungs as a cool, nervous tingle raced up his spine. He turned, and slid the door to his room open.

His suitcase sat on a woven rug at the foot of the bed, a plush mattress with a metal frame and a deep grayish-purple blanket over white sheets. A wooden dresser sat across from the bed. A breeze sent the gauzy curtains in the open window slightly aflutter with the scent of cool night air, and a clay jar of water sat on a short nightstand, but Genya didn’t pay much attention to any of it. 

No, his gaze was immediately drawn to the pillow, where an exquisite samurai figurine lay next to a crumpled note. 

The samurai was perfect in every way, just like the figures he and Sanemi had stared at back in the expensive shops. Embroidered purple silk robes under magnificent armor fashioned from bits of real gold. A sword hung at the tiny warrior’s side, and a fierce horned dome helmet covered most of the head. He lifted it in breathless disbelief, the little figure surprisingly hefty in his hands. The thing was even posable, wires running through the joints of its porcelain arms and legs to hold whatever shape it was pressed in. It was just the kind of thing Sanemi had always promised he would get for Genya someday. 

His heart caught in his throat as his eyes went to the samurai’s face. It looked like a custom paintjob, as a jagged pink scar ran over the little warrior’s right cheekbone and over the bridge of his nose, right under a pair of fierce almond-shaped eyes. Just like the twin scars Genya and Sanemi shared. 

Tears blurred his vision as he reached down and picked up the note. The words looked big and sloppy and a bit uneven, as if written by a child, but each character still seemed to have been drawn with the utmost care. He could imagine the brush shaking in his older brother’s unpracticed hand as he struggled through each kanji. 

Forr Genya

To mak up forr lost tyme

From Sameni

Half of the words were misspelled, including his brother’s name. A sob hiccuped in his throat, and tears spilled down the sides of his face. He hugged the note and the doll to his chest, sinking down to his knees. 

Sanemi had learned to write. For him. 

He didn’t brush his teeth, like he wanted to. He barely undressed. He kinda had to piss, but couldn’t be bothered. He set the note and tiny samurai gently on the nightstand, then collapsed onto the soft bed and slipped into a listless sleep.

_____

Cold roof tiles scraped against his back. Grainy, staticky music drifted from somewhere, though it sounded warped and distorted as if the record had been placed too close to a fireplace, skipping over sections of off-color notes in jagged bursts. The smell of iron lingered in the air, and when Genya looked up into the sky, there were no stars. Only a muddy, reddish-black haze.

He turned, already knowing what he would see. 

The bodies of his dead siblings sprawled over their patterned futons, blood soaking into the cotton and the wood floor of their apartment below. A flicker of recollection stirred in his mind as he gazed at the scarlet pool below his sister Teiko’s soiled kimono and limp hand. That spot had been particularly difficult to clean. 

Sanemi stood in the center of the corpses, just a small boy in the wreckage of their world. The scars on his face looked like fresh wounds, oozing blood over his white hair and wide eyes as he clutched something to his chest with bloodied hands. 

“...I wanted it to be different.” Sanemi said after a moment. His hollow eyes looked over the carnage, then met Genya’s.

“...I know.” Genya said, swinging one leg back inside the apartment. “I did too.” 

“I tried to stop it.” Sanemi said, clutching his fists tighter to his chest. “I did, I really did, but I just… I couldn’t. ”

“It happened too fast.” Genya nodded. “We didn’t know.” 

 “I tried so hard not to lose you as well.” Sanemi said, his wet eyes brimming with tears as he looked at Genya. “But… I think I messed that up too, didn’t I?”

Sanemi hung his head, squeezing his arms closer around him and beginning to swivel back and forth like a child about to cry. Genya opened his mouth, then shut it again. He swung his other leg over the lip of the window. He dropped to the floor with a light tap, then delicately stepped over bloodied arms and legs and faces of the people he’d loved more than anything else in the world. 

Sumi. Teiko. Hiroshi and Shuya. And yes, little Koto, lying in a tiny cold lump there at his feet. They were gone now, all of them. There was nothing more he could do. But Sanemi stood before him, alive and breathing hard and in desperate need of a loving hand. 

Genya reached over, placing a hand on Sanemi’s shoulder. His older brother looked up, meeting his eye.

“I tried my best, b-but…” Sanemi said, his lower lip trembling. “I couldn’t save it. I’m sorry.”

He opened his hands. The little samurai figurine lay in pieces, just a mangled pile of shattered porcelain limbs and torn purple silk. 

“I wanted to be there for you. Even when I couldn’t be. Even when I was far away, I wanted to protect you. I should’ve… I didn’t realize…”

Genya gave a weary smile. He stepped forward, wrapping his arms around his older brother. Sanemi stiffened as if he didn’t believe it, then slowly hugged him back. 

“It’s okay. We’ll figure it out. We'll do it together, this time.” 

Chapter Text

A low tapping sounded from… somewhere. Genya couldn’t quite place it. He screwed up his face, rolling his sore shoulders and back as he blinked back into wakefulness. 

Soft morning light poured in from the window, along with the slightly cold and sticky feeling of rain. Ah, right, he’d left the window open. The gauzy curtains were wet at the ends and didn’t flow through the air like they had last night, but not much water had actually entered the room, mostly just collecting in a few scattered droplets on the wood floor by the bed.

The events of yesterday came back to him slowly. The long trip still burned stiff in his legs, and the stale taste of salmon daikon lingered at the back of his throat. The shock of seeing the Wind and Water Hashira in an intimate embrace still sent a jolt of surprise through his brain every time he thought of it, and, oh yes, what had happened after . 

Genya bit his lip. He shouldn’t have yelled at Sanemi. 

His brow furrowed. No, he should have yelled at him a long time ago. 

He sighed. He didn’t know what to think anymore. 

The tapping came again, soft, but insistent. Someone was knocking. 

That’ll be Tanjiro… He thought with a soft smile on his face, wondering what he’d done to gain such a wonderful friend. 

He opened his mouth to invite him in, but thought better of it. 

What if it was Sanemi?

Was he prepared to face him just yet? To broach the inevitable awkward conversation, and deal with whatever consequences came?

His fist clenched at his side. He didn’t know if he was quite done yelling, either. 

“...Come in,” Genya called after a moment, his voice a little croaky with the morning. 

 The door slid open. 

Sanemi was not on the other side. Neither was Tanjiro. Instead, Giyuu Tomioka stepped into the room.

“O-oh, hello,” Genya blinked, hoping there wasn’t some kind of formal way to politely greet a Hashira he was unaware of. Truthfully, Tomioka had been the last person he’d expected.

“Good morning.” Giyuu said with a slight bow of his head, then met his eyes. “...How are you feeling today?”

Genya had grown used to that question at the Kamado house, where Tanjiro’s sense of generosity was infectious, and every member of the household would come up to him at some point, wondering how his wound was feeling and if there was anything they could do to help. Even Inosuke had proved useful once or twice, offering to rub out the kinks in his sore shoulders when he’d slept strangely. But Genya had a feeling Giyuu wasn’t talking about his scar. 

“I heard what happened.” Giyuu said, taking an awkward step closer. Hmm. If Genya didn’t know any better, he might think the great man was nervous. 

“Sanemi’s bitching about me already, huh?” Genya said dully. “Lemme guess, he wants me out of the house by noon.”

“No,” Giyuu shook his head. “Tanjiro told me. Sanemi hasn’t said a word since last night. He’s still in bed upstairs too, actually. Just laying there. Staring at the wall.” 

“...Oh.” Genya looked down. 

Giyuu didn’t say anything. Genya glanced back up after a moment.

“Do you think he’s… Mad at me?”

“No,” Giyuu considered, looking out the window for a moment before turning his attention back to the boy on the bed. “He’s been mad at me plenty of times. It’s never looked like that.”

“Hm.” 

Giyuu opened his mouth to speak, then shut it again. 

“...Can I sit down?” He asked eventually.

Genya nodded, and Giyuu sat on the edge of the bed. Genya shuffled his legs upward a bit to make room for him. Giyuu glanced at the nightstand, where the figure still lay. 

“...Cool samurai, huh?” 

“Huh? Oh… Yeah, I guess.”

Truthfully, even though he was too old for toys, even though his feelings towards Sanemi were angry and regretful and rolling back and forth in a big complicated ball in his chest, the little figure was sick as hell. Part of him wanted to set its arms and legs in a fierce fighting pose, then whirl it around the room like a powerful Hashira unleashing a mighty breathing technique. 

Part of him just wanted to play with his brother.

“We went to pick it out together. Sanemi had me look at a thousand of them before he settled on that one. He wanted it to be perfect.”

Genya didn’t say anything. The ball of unruly emotions in his chest tilted and rolled the other way. Part of him wanted to pick up the doll and hurl it against the wall, shattering it into a million pieces. 

Giyuu let the silence stew. He seemed to be good at that. 

“I’m not-” Genya tried, then shook his head. “I just… I don’ t know what to do.”

“That’s okay.” 

“You’re not gonna tell me to apologize?” Genya glanced over. “Or that my feelings are valid or whatever?”

“I’m not here to judge.” Giyuu shrugged. “Besides, you’re a Hashira in your own right. I can’t tell you what to do.” 

“Hmm.” 

So what the hell are you here for, then? Genya thought, but didn’t say aloud. A note of irritation was beginning to flare up within him at the Water Hashira’s indifferent presence. Truthfully, he just wanted to be alone. 

“I’ve been angry at Sanemi a lot too.” Giyuu spoke. “Not as angry as he’s ever been with me, and certainly not as angry as you are with him, I’m sure, but still. Your brother is… difficult to get along with sometimes.” 

Genya huffed. That much was true. 

“But I’ve been thinking…” Giyuu said, looking up at the wall. “It doesn’t seem like it, but… We’re young , you know? We’re really young. We all took up so much responsibility from such an early age, it was easy to forget we all still had a lot of growing to do.” 

Genya frowned. That wasn’t much of an answer. 

“So what, we’re all just fucked up?” 

“I guess.” Giyuu shrugged. “But we don’t have to stay that way.”

“ Tch , right. You’ve been spending too much time with Tanjiro. All that positivity is infecting you.”

“Maybe…” Giyuu’s cool blue eyes turned back to Genya again. “But would that be wrong? I know I’ve grown a lot. And I know you have too. I seem to recall hearing you once grabbed Kanata Ubuyashiki by the hair and threatened her until she gave you your sword.” 

Genya stiffened, his face reddening in shame. 

“But you wouldn’t do that again, would you?”

“...No.” Genya spoke through a tense jaw, his shoulders up by his ears. “...I wouldn’t.”

“There you have it.” Giyuu nodded. “You’ve grown.” 

“It’s not that simple.” Genya shook his head. “Sanemi… He pushed me away for so long, and then after the war was over, I guess he thought it was okay to just pretend like everything was back to normal. Like none of it ever happened.”
Genya sniffed, looking away from Giyuu.

“Like he never left me alone on the street.”

Giyuu sighed. He leaned forward, the bed creaking slightly beneath him.

“He can be short-sighted. That doesn’t make what he did to you right. But I do hope you can understand where he was coming from.”

“Right.” Genya scoffed. “I was weak. I was useless. I’d just get in the way, or get myself killed. He was doing it to protect me.” 

Giyuu shook his head. “That’s not what I meant.”

Genya’s eyebrows creased a little closer together. What exactly did Giyuu mean? 

“Sanemi told me about what happened. With your family I mean.” Giyuu started slowly, and Genya’s heart stilled. “How he couldn’t stop your mother in time. He couldn’t forgive himself. The only thing he could think to do was run.” 

Genya’s tongue pressed against his teeth, his mouth worrying down into a grimace.

“He was just thirteen on the day when your family died. I’m not asking you to forgive him, that isn’t my place, I’m just asking you to think about things from his perspective.”

Genya bit his lip. He remembered being thirteen. Being sweaty and confused and angry, all the time. The growth spurts, the awkward hike in his voice, the sudden and strange feelings he didn’t have names for, and the sense that the entire world was out to get him. Hunting demons hadn’t made puberty any easier. 

And, he was sure, having a little brother tagging along would have made all his problems a million times harder. 

That morning, Sanemi had killed their mother. He’d lost the rest of their siblings, and Genya had called him a murderer. 

It’s no wonder he ran away. 

But it still doesn’t make it right… Genya thought, the ball of emotions in his chest sinking like a lead weight. 

“I…” Genya started, hands wringing around the sheets. “I don’t know what to do.” 

“That’s alright.” Giyuu smiled softly, “You’re still a kid, after all.” 

“Not for much longer,” Genya stiffened. His eighteenth birthday was just around the corner, in January. Besides, he was taller than Giyuu anyway. 

“Hah, right.” Giyuu laughed, though not unkindly, then rose from the bed. “I’ll tell Sanemi you want to talk to him. I’ll send him down in an hour. How does that sound?” 

Genya blinked. Only five minutes ago, the mere thought of talking with Sanemi had almost sent him into a blind panic. But now…

“...Yeah.” Genya said slowly. “I think that’ll be okay. I feel calmer now. I think I’m ready to talk to him.”

Giyuu smiled again, bowing his head. 

“I’m sure he has a lot he wants to say to you as well.”

The Water Hashira opened the sliding door with a quiet scrape of wood on metal, then stepped through and softly shut it, leaving Genya alone. 

He nodded. He would talk to Sanemi. 

The hour passed slowly. Genya rose from his bed and peeked into the hall, and once he was sure it was clear he made his way to the washroom where he scrubbed up and took care of the necessaries. His reflection in the polished mirror still showed a haggard, disfigured profile, eyes rimmed with fatigue and the scar running down his face growing a sickly shade of bruised purple like it often did in the mornings, but at least he wasn’t dirty. 

He didn’t see Tanjiro, but he heard his voice along with Naho’s deeper in the house, coming from the kitchen where the helpful pair were no doubt preparing breakfast. He smiled. It would be nice to talk with Tanjiro, but he was glad he was distracting the young Tsuguko. The last thing he needed was another person dragged into the Shinazugawa family drama. 

He went back into his room. He changed into fresh clothes, the pants of his slayer uniform under a nice gray shirt he had picked up in Okutama, and his purple yukata. He left the Kamado-patterned haori off, folding it neatly before stowing it in his suitcase.

He closed the window and made the bed, then picked up the little samurai, holding it delicately in his hands. The confusing ball of emotions had fractured and spread into every part of him, weighing like tiny bits of lead in his blood and bones and the tips of his fingers. 

A soft tapping came from the sliding door. Quiet, and almost hesitant. Softer than Tomioka’s had been. Genya swallowed hard, a flurry of nerves shooting through him like a cloud of butterflies for a moment before he turned to the door. 

“...Come in.” 

The door slid open a crack, then a bit more, and the scarred face of the fearsome Wind Pillar peeked into the room. 

Though, he wasn’t quite as fearsome this morning. 

He didn’t look big, like their father. Not anymore. He’d never grown that tall. He looked more like their mother now, eyes rimmed red from tears and lack of sleep and a quiet, tentative tremor that came with each of his movements. Haggard and unshaven and small in the darkness of the hallway.

“...Hi, ‘Nemi.” 

Sanemi made an awkward kind of grunt in response and stepped fully into view, though kept his arms crossed over his chest and his gaze averted from Genya. He slid the door shut behind him, but still pressed against the door, like he was seconds from tearing through the flimsy bamboo and hiding away in some other corner of the mansion. 

Anywhere but around me. Genya thought, the old sentiment curling cold and familiar through his guts. 

“...Giyuu said you wanted to talk.” Sanemi said, still avoiding his eye. His voice sounded shaky, as if his throat were sore.

The ball of emotions reconstituted itself in his chest, pounding like a fiery drum. To say Genya wanted to talk was putting it lightly.

I can’t fucking believe you. Genya tried to say, but it couldn’t escape his clenched jaw.

I want to trust you, but I don’t know if I can. The words lingered on the tip of his tongue.

…Are we still brothers?  

This last one almost broke through his lips, but he bit it back at the last second. Sanemi listened to him struggle with his words, that haunted, hollow look growing deeper in his eyes every time Genya started over. 

Eventually, Genya sighed, then settled on the object in his hands.

“...Thanks, for this,” he said, holding the samurai figure a bit higher and shaking it back and forth slightly so the ceramic joints rattled. 

Sanemi looked up, meeting his eye for a fraction of a second before looking away again. 

“...You like it?” 

“Yeah. It’s badass.” 

A note of tension ebbed out of Sanemi’s shoulders. 

“I’m glad. Giyuu says it’s purple. The best purple they had. You like purple, right?” 

“...Yeah,” Genya said slowly, tilting his head. “...You can’t see that it’s purple?”

Sanemi shook his head, looking down at the wood floor. 

“I haven’t really been able to see color since… Well… The day everything changed.”

Genya’s eyes widened a touch. The stress of that horrible morning had made Sanemi go colorblind? He swallowed thickly, recalling the words he had shouted as he clutched their mother’s disintegrating bloody body to his chest, sobbing as Sanemi stared down in blank horror.

Murderer! You murderer! How could you kill our own mother?! How could you do this?!

Sanemi must have seen the scarlet pool of their mother’s blood turn a shade of dark gray. The golden sunrise becoming nothing but a harsh white glare. The entire world around him, nothing but black and white and gray like the strokes of ink on paper.

Genya shook his head. That was years ago. It was over. They were past it.

He bit his lip. That wasn’t true. Clearly, they weren’t past it, or they wouldn’t be in this situation right now. 

“I’m sorry.” Genya blurted. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you last night. I should have tried to be more understanding, and I shouldn’t have ever blamed you for mom.”

Sanemi’s eyes widened. 

“ You’re sorry?” He spoke, his weak voice cracking but gaining strength as he spoke. “No, I don’t accept that, take that back right now. You were absolutely right. I’m the one who’s been a shitty brother.” 

“That’s not true!” Genya protested. “You tried your best to protect us from her! You tried to protect me, by keeping me out of danger in the corps! Everything you did was to keep me safe!”

“And look how well that turned out.” Sanemi’s face crumpled. His tear-rimmed gaze traveled up Genya’s aching scar, then settled back on his eyes. 

“I had no idea what you went through after I left. I thought the best thing to do was to get away from you, so that you’d be safe from me. I’m a curse , Genya.”

“What?” Genya blinked, “‘Nemi, that’s not true, you-”

“It is true.” Sanemi grit his teeth, his lip twitching in shame as he blinked the tears from his reddening eyes. “Everyone who gets close to me dies, and it’s all my fault.”

Genya quieted, stunned, but let Sanemi collect himself and continue.

“...I didn’t figure it out until later.” Sanemi shook his head. “When Masachika told me I had the Marechi blood.”

Genya’s eyebrows scrunched together. Marechi blood? He hadn’t known. 

“I found mom under a streetlamp, eating the guts of a man she had killed.” Sanemi continued quietly, hands balled into fists. “It was the first time I’d seen anything like it. It scared me so much that I tripped, and scraped my hand.”

Genya’s eyes widened. He could see where this was going. 

“Mom shot up like a bloodhound when she smelled it.” Sanemi said, his voice hardly above a whisper. “She ran straight for me. I didn’t know what to do. I panicked, and she chased me while I ran all the way home.” 

Sanemi looked up, tears streaming down his face. 

“I led her straight to the rest of you. It’s my fault that Sumi, Teiko, Hiroshi, Shuya, and Koto are dead. It’s my fault you have that scar across your face.”

Genya blinked, stunned. Sanemi… he blamed himself for that? No. It couldn’t be.

“ I should have let her kill me! ” The sob escaped Sanemi’s chest in a burst of sorrow, and he sank to the ground, burying his face in his hands. “If I had, my blood would have fed her for weeks, and then a demon slayer would have come along and finished the job! She would have never come home! You would all be living happy lives!” 

Sanemi hunched in a sorry heap, shoulders trembling as his body spasmed with tears. They were horrid, gut-wrenching sounds that sent shivers down Genya’s spine and a creeping unease into his core.

He hadn’t seen Sanemi cry often. Even when they were young, after a beating from their father, he would stick his jaw out and refuse to give the man the satisfaction while Kyogo painted him with split lips and black eyes. He would never let his younger siblings see a crack. Maybe in private he would shed a few tears, but he’d wipe his face quickly whenever Genya entered the room to check up on him.

The man was nothing but cracks now, dissolved in a puddle of tears before him. 

Sanemi looked up, blinking in the light as Genya put a hand on his shoulder. 

“You’re a damn idiot if you really believe that.” 

A shard of rage entered Sanemi’s mask of sorrow for an instant as his eyebrows flicked together in irritation, but Genya pressed on. 

“Mom was the one who killed them, not you. Muzan was the one who turned her into a demon, not you. Dad was the reason we were in so much debt that she had to work such late hours, not you .”

Sanemi’s gaze flicked from one of Genya’s eyes to the other, as if in disbelief.

“Even if you led mom back to the rest of us, that’s still not your fault.” Genya said, wrapping his arms around his older brother’s shoulders and tucking him into an embrace as something Giyuu said came back to him. His voice cracked. 

“You were thirteen, Sanemi. You were young and confused and terrified, of course you ran home. I don’t blame you at all, and I know the others don’t either.”

Sanemi didn’t move for a moment. Didn’t breathe. But soon enough, shaking arms wrapped around Genya’s middle. Genya smiled at the warm pressure, the ever-present ache abating for a moment as the two halves of him were pressed into one. 

“I should have done better for you.” Sanemi said quietly into his left ear. “It doesn’t excuse it. I should have tried harder. I couldn’t believe it when Kanae said she was letting Shinobu join the corps. How do you let your own sibling fight in a war? ”

Genya didn’t say anything. His own fist tightened, then relaxed, fingers bunching anxiously as old emotions welled up in him.

“But she did. Shinobu’s resolve was just as strong as Kanae’s. Even stronger, after Kanae died and Shinobu became a Pillar. It was her choice. Kanae couldn’t take that from her. I shouldn’t have tried to take that from you.”

Genya nodded silently. Sanemi shouldn’t have. Genya wanted to fight, just as bad as Sanemi had. Even if he was useless. Even if he had no talent. He’d still managed to help. He had still saved precious lives. He had spared others the heart-rending pain of having everything ripped away, the same pain he’d experienced. He would make the same choice again in a heartbeat.

“...I never should have left you.” Sanemi said after a moment, voice flat and dull and still edged with tears. His fingers dug into the back of Genya’s yukata, as if unwilling to let him go. “I’m so sorry. No matter what you say, that part was my fault, and I’ll regret that until the day I die. I understand if you can’t forgive me for that.”

“Right.” Genya rolled his eyes with a slight huff, gently knocking the side of Sanemi’s head with his fist. “Come on. We’ve been through too much shit together for that. You’re my brother, no matter what.” 

Sanemi looked up. His mouth still twisted in sorrow, but something like hope shone in his red-rimmed eyes. 

“Now, come on,” Genya rose, wiping his own eyes dry as he stood up, bringing Sanemi up with him. “We can’t let Giyuu and Tanjiro catch us crying on the floor.” 

“They’d never let us hear the end of it.” Sanemi sniffed as he nodded, then moved to sit on the bed with Genya. “It’d be all ‘Sanemi are you okay, you look so sad, do you wanna talk about it,’ blargh. ”

“Yeah, how terrible, having people who care about us.” Genya smiled as Sanemi faked another retch. 

“Tell me about it,” Sanemi rolled his eyes, but rubbed them dry again. “I bet they’re brewing us a pot of tea right now, so we can feel better after talking about all our lame feelings .”

Sanemi fidgeted with his hands. His shoulders hunched under his ears. His face screwed up a bit, almost like a frustrated toddler’s, but with a deeper, more introspective quality.

“...I’m glad you’re with him, ‘Nemi.” 

His older brother looked surprised for a moment, but his face softened, and he looked toward the sliding door. 

“...Yeah. Me too.” 

A knock came from the door. Heavy enough to alert, but still soft enough to not disturb. 

“Genya?” Tanjiro called, “And, Shinazugawa-san? Giyuu and I made a pot of tea for you, we hope you’re feeling better!”

“Oh, piss off, ” Sanemi roared as Genya erupted in laughter. Sanemi looked annoyed, but not nearly annoyed as usual. There was no real bite to his words. 

“Alright!” Tanjiro called back, and Genya could practically hear the smile on the young man’s face. “I’ll just set this here! We have breakfast waiting for you in the kitchen, and then Naho wants to get your thoughts on a new form she’s trying to make!”

“ Get out of here, Kamado, ” Sanemi gave a warning growl, “We’re busy. Besides, you’re the Sun Breather, can’t you show her what to do?”

“We worked on it for a while this morning, but she wanted to get her Sensei’s thoughts on it.” Tanjiro replied, chipper as ever. “She’s very proud to be your Tsuguko, you know.” 

Sanemi blinked, a little surprised. He turned away, but not before Genya caught the slight smile on his face. 

“...Tell her we’ll be done soon.” 

Tanjiro hummed an affirmative, then set down what sounded like a tray and some clinking cups outside the door. His footsteps receded down the hall. 

“Fuckin’ brat…” Sanemi muttered, a vein sticking out in his neck. 

“Hey, be nice, he’s my friend.” Genya protested, lightly shoving Sanemi’s shoulder. “And he’s like family to Giyuu too, so you’d better get used to him if you want to keep your boyfriend around.” 

Sanemi sighed like the thought of it physically pained him, but he eventually relented with a smile, turning his eyes back to his brother. 

“Well, if that’s what it takes.”

Sanemi brought in the tea tray, and poured them each a cup. It really was good, with notes of honey that soothed his sore throat and fragrant steam that filled his aching lungs. He’d never liked crying. Gyomei had always told him it was good to release his emotions, to accept the parts of his life he couldn’t change and to accept his negative feelings along with his positive ones. Genya had never been very good at doing that, but he seemed to be doing better lately, now that there were no more demons to fight and they actually had time to worry about their personal issues. He sipped the tea slowly, letting the warm liquid spill down his throat and settle deep within his stomach. He breathed deeply. He already felt a little better. 

“...I’ll do better.” Sanemi said after a moment, as if reading the word on his thoughts. It looked like the tea had calmed him down somewhat as well. “I promise. I never want to make you feel like that again.” 

Genya looked down into his tea, the ceramic cup warming his hands. 

“Even this. Here and now, having a normal conversation with you. It’s all I ever wanted. Even though we were fighting, it’s still not as bad as it used to be.”

“And it’s only gonna get better.” Sanemi said, grabbing Genya’s shoulder and looking into his face. “I promise. I’ll never leave you again.” 

Genya smiled, warmth filling his soul, but it faltered a bit as his gaze landed on Sanemi’s cheek. 

Right where the Slayer Mark had appeared. 

He could still faintly see its vague pinwheel outline, whitish and dead against his brother’s already pale skin. He knew the toll it had taken. His lip quirked. He knew, someday, Sanemi would break that promise. 

Sanemi followed his gaze, and seemed to guess what he was thinking. He brought Genya’s eyes back to his own, his grip tightening on his younger brother’s shoulder.

“Hey. I meant what I said, okay? I promise, Genya. Even after I die, I’ll always be with you.”

“Right…” Genya sniffed, then nodded. “Like a ghost or some shit.” 

“Sure, just like that.” Sanemi grinned. “I’ll be an annoying ghost watching over you all the time. And if you ever do something to piss me off, I’ll make sure to give you nightmares.” 

“You wouldn’t!” Genya exclaimed, mock-offended. 

“Try me.” Sanemi raised an eyebrow with a slight chuckle, “If you miss your appointment with Yushiro and split again, you’re gonna have hell to pay.” 

“Alright, alright,” Genya waved him away, internally shuddering at the thought of whatever terrors a ghost-Sanemi could conjure up, “Stop talking about dying, you’re killing the mood.” 

Sanemi laughed, but agreed, settling back with his tea. Genya smiled. 

Things were different between them now. Fragile, but healing. Genya had a feeling things might always be fragile. Too much blood had been spilt, and even when old wounds scarred over they could tear open at the slightest disturbance. He had a feeling these kinds of hard conversations weren’t over. Not by a long shot. 

But that was okay. Underneath it all, they would always have a solid core. 

Brothers. At the end of the day, no matter what, they would always be brothers.

_____

“I’m glad you two made up.” Tanjiro smiled as the pair of them strolled the edges of the large property, weaving in between neatly-pruned trees and shapely boulders. Breakfast had been good, if a bit awkward, and now Naho was showing off her new technique to Sanemi and Giyuu, leaving Genya and Tanjiro free for the rest of the morning. 

“I could smell he was really upset all night, even from down in my room.” Tanjiro continued, a slight crease of sadness coming into his eye. “He was worried, and scared, and really guilty.” 

“You and your nose…” Genya rolled his eyes, “No one can hide anything from you, huh?” 

“Nope.” Tanjiro smiled, tilting that same nose a bit higher in satisfaction. 

“Well… how does he feel now?” Genya asked slowly. He wondered if he should be afraid of the answer. 

“Better.” Tanjiro nodded. “Like… like finally throwing up after being nauseous all day.”

“Gross.” Genya frowned. 

“Feelings are often gross.” Tanjiro shrugged. “That doesn’t mean they should be ignored. That’s how you get… well… situations like yours…”

“Hmm.” Genya nodded. That much was true. If he and Sanemi had just talked back then, when everything had gone to shit, how much heartache could they have been spared? How many nights spent crying himself to sleep could he have avoided?

How much sooner could they have been brothers again?

“It seems like you’re feeling better too…” Tanjiro started. 

“Stop smelling me, weirdo,” Genya said, but couldn’t suppress a grin as he reached over and ruffled his burgundy hair.

“I didn’t have to,” Tanjiro laughed, rolling his head out of Genya’s grasp after a moment before meeting his gaze again, eyes shining. “I can tell. You’re smiling again.” 

“Ah-” Genya started as he realized Tanjiro was right, and he forcibly tried to get the corners of his mouth back down to where they usually lay. His efforts, as usual whenever Tanjiro was involved, were futile.

“You’re smiling~” Tanjiro said in a teasing tone as he poked at Genya’s cheek, making the problem worse.

“Am not,” Genya grumbled even as he tried to hide the grin on his face. “Tell anyone about this and you die.” 

“My lips are sealed.” Tanjiro nodded sagely, holding his head high.

Genya rolled his eyes, but let the smile warm his face as they continued on over the grass.

“...Thanks again, for last night.” He started slowly. “For checking up on me I mean. I don’t think I realized it at the time, but… I was really scared.” 

“Of course.” Tanjiro said, his tone lowering to meet Genya’s as he looked up at him. Genya cringed internally as he realized, he had probably reeked of fear to the Sun Pillar last night. There really wasn’t much that could surprise him. 

“A-and for before…” Genya stammered, then put a hand to his face. “When you… saved me before. God I’m so embarrased. I’m really sorry you keep ending up in the middle of our issues.” 

Tanjiro’s gaze clouded a bit. He looked off at a patch of blooming orange lilies. 

“To be honest, I’ve never liked your brother very much.” 

Genya nodded slowly. He didn’t blame him. 

“He stabbed Nezuko, bullied Giyuu, and was extra tough on Zenitsu during his training, just because he was my friend. He ignored you for years, and even tried to blind you.” 

Tanjiro’s voice increased as he said that last bit, his good right hand bunching into a tight fist as his shoulders rose high in indignation. He took a breath, then relaxed, looking up at Genya again. 

“I didn’t like him, but I could tell he wasn’t all bad. He was just angry and self-destructive, and didn’t care who he hurt in the process. I always caught the scent of guilt around him. Now that I know your story better, I understand why.” 

Genya nodded. Sanemi had been keeping a lot of guilt wrapped up inside him, more than Genya had even suspected.

“I don’t know if we’ll ever get along, but I’m gonna try my best.” Tanjiro nodded, determined. “He’s your older brother. He’s special to Giyuu, and he’s Naho’s master now. If he’s important to the people I care about, he’s important to me.”

“That’s very kind of you.” Genya said, his face breaking into a weary grin. “But seriously, if he’s being an asshole, you don’t have to take it.” 

“I never said that,” Tanjiro said primly, “I just said I’d try. Besides, now I know I have Giyuu, Naho, and you to back me up if he’s ever being unreasonable again.” 

Genya snickered, despite himself. Sanemi had really backed himself into a corner this time. 

At dinner that evening, Sanemi was noticeably nicer to Tanjiro, including a setting for him at the table and even asking once if he enjoyed the meal.

“Yes!” Tanjiro had replied happily, “The rice is so soft, and the teriyaki glaze on the chicken is perfect!”

Sanemi had huffed, clearly irritated at the boundless enthusiasm, but didn’t press it any further. They finished dinner and helped wash up, then spent a while telling old war stories before finally turning in for the night. 

A soft smile warmed his face as he stared up at the ceiling in the darkness, stretching his long legs over the bed. He had his brother back.

He had felt like this before, the day he’d woken up from his coma after the final battle, and Sanemi had rushed to his side, calling Genya the most important thing in the world to him. It had been shaky then, unsure, but delirious with joy. Like a kite flapping in a hurricane. Now, the storm had cooled. The kite of his joy no longer pulled at its string like it might snap at any second. Now, he and Sanemi both held on to the spool. 

They would fight in the future. Of that Genya had no doubt. They were brothers, after all, and could piss each other off easier than anyone else on the planet. 

But they were brothers . And for the first time in nearly a decade, it really felt like it again.

Chapter Text

In the morning, Sanemi surprised them after breakfast by slapping a fat wad of cash on the table. Genya’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head. He had more in his wallet, but still. This looked like enough to buy a boat.

“W-what’s this?” Tanjiro blinked, looking down at the veritable treasure trove in wonder. 

“Your bribe, brats.” Sanemi said, before turning hungry eyes on his partner. “Giyuu and I need the house to ourselves today.” 

Giyuu’s cheeks pinked, but a slight smile came to his face as he looked down at the table. 

Ah, right, Genya smirked, recalling what Sanemi had said the day he and Tanjiro had arrived. It’s their one-month-anniversary. 

He glanced over at Naho, whose dark eyes and wide smile had clearly not understood the implication. He supposed the cash counted as babysitting money as well.

“Wow, thank you, Shinazugawa-Sensei!” She exclaimed happily. “We’ll be sure to get you a present!”

“Haha, thanks kid,” Sanemi’s eyes crinkled, “Now go, have fun.” 

“B-but,” Tanjiro protested, still unable to process the amount of cash on the smooth wood. “It’s so much, we can’t-”

“I’m feeling generous.” Sanemi said flatly. “Now go.”

“Right,” Genya rose, scooping up the money and hurrying as fast as his wounds would allow to the door, chuckling to himself. “Thank you, ‘Nemi.”

Tanjiro and Naho hurried out the door. Genya followed close behind, but turned as a note of wickedness rose within him. He locked eyes with his brother, a knowing smirk on his face. 

“Hope you save a bit of that generosity for Giyuu, there,” He teased, the innuendo plain in his voice.

Giyuu flushed. Sanemi’s eyes sharpened to points as he took off his sandal and chucked it across the room in one fluid motion, where it slapped against the wall. Genya ducked in impish joy, even though the sandal was nowhere close to hitting him. 

“Get out!” 

“Have fun!” Genya laughed, sliding the door closed behind him. 

“We’d better go,” Tanjiro chuckled nervously in the hallway. “He smells mad. And…” His cheeks reddened. “...Passionate.”

“Huh?” Naho blinked, her eyes big and innocent. “What does that mean?”

“Right.” Genya nodded as Tanjiro reddened further. It was in everyone’s best interest that they leave as soon as possible. 

They hustled out the front door and out through the winding white walls of the Wind Estate, finally settling down as they came out onto the long streets of Sakado. 

“This is so fun!” Naho exclaimed, her face bright and cheery as she looked around at all the sights and sounds. “I can take you to all my favorite shops! We can look at the flowers in the park, and, oh, sometimes there’s a man in the town square with a trained monkey that dances!”

“That sounds great!” Tanjiro smiled, though it fell a little as he glanced down at the stray bills poking their way out of Genya’s pocket. “...But is it really okay to spend Shinazugawa-san’s money like this?”

“He’s a Hashira, he’s loaded.” Genya laughed, his walking stick clacking on the street ahead of him as he stepped. “Besides, he told us to have fun.”

“Well, if you’re sure…” Tanjiro’s eyebrows furrowed together, but he looked down at their guide. “Where to first, Naho?”

Naho led them to a clothing store, where she bought some lovely hairpins to give to her sisters when she saw them again for New Years. Tanjiro indulged her in playing dress-up, trying on many fine clothes that she picked out made from rich fabrics and cut in more modern styles than his rustic mountain clothes. Genya thought they all suited him very well, especially the deep red waistcoat with the gold buttons that hugged tight to his figure over a crisp white button-up shirt. He just might have to buy it for him, since he knew the young man would never consider buying anything for himself. 

No, the only time Tanjiro’s eyes lit up upon spying a garment was when he spotted a shop worker folding a gorgeous kimono into a box. Made from shining white silk with inner accents of vibrant red, and patterned with pink chrysanthemum flowers outlined in rich black. The reds and pinks danced around each other in elegant motifs around the sleeves and collar, painting tiny songbirds and lilies and beautiful billowing clouds. Accents of shimmering gold thread sparkled in the light here and there as the woman folded, in the centers of flowers or on the wingtips of birds. It looked like something fit for royalty. 

“Excuse me,” Tanjiro called, a note of something that almost sounded like urgency in his voice. “Is that one for sale?”

“Why, yes,” the woman said, her eyes widening slightly in surprise as her hands stopped their work, drawing the patterned hem of the garment a bit further out of the box. 

“Are you gonna try it on?” Naho giggled, and Genya felt his ears burning at the thought. In a garment that fine, Tanjiro would look almost like an oiran.

“It’s for my sister,” Tanjiro said as the woman gave him a strange look. “She’s a little shorter than me, do you think it would fit her?”

“For Nezuko?” Genya asked, tilting his head.

“I’ve had a few conversations with Zenitsu recently,” Tanjiro said with a slight laugh, “I’m sure he’ll be proposing any day now, and I know Nezuko will say yes.”

Naho’s eyes shone as she clapped her hands together and squealed in delight.

“You can’t tell anyone,” Tanjiro said, looking between her and Genya with a conspiratorial grin as he put a finger to his lips, “It’s a surprise, but yes. I want her to have something beautiful to get married in, not just her old kimono.”

Genya nodded. Nezuko’s pink kimono was in remarkably good condition for something that had been sliced, scuffed, stabbed, and soaked in Nezuko’s own blood. The Blood Pillar was a talented weaver and seamstress to be sure, but he figured a lot of its upkeep had actually been Tanjiro’s doing, as Nezuko had likely been unable to do much mending as a demon. 

“I promised her I would buy her lots of beautiful kimonos one day.” Tanjiro said, his eyes softening as the saleswoman brought the kimono over to him to examine. “I’m happy I can finally keep that promise.” 

Genya smiled as Tanjiro spread his arms wide, and the woman held the kimono up to his body to measure the hem and sleeves. Nezuko was all the family he had left in the world. Of course Tanjiro would want to spoil her, to give her all the things he couldn’t give to the rest of his family anymore. 

A little porcelain samurai in purple robes came to mind. He supposed Sanemi felt a similar way. He chuckled silently to himself. The older brothers were more alike than either of them thought.

“Yes, this should fit her just fine,” The woman nodded, and Naho squealed with delight again, squeezing her eyes shut with delight.. 

“Oh it’ll be so perfect, Nezuko is already so beautiful, she’ll look like a princess!”

“We’ll take it!” Tanjiro smiled, his eyes shining.

“I’m delighted that it pleases you!” The woman said happily, “The price is one hundred and ninety-five yen.”

Tanjiro’s eyes widened. He looked at Genya. 

“I’ll pay Sanemi back.” 

“No need.” Genya laughed, counting out the bills before handing the money to the woman. “Sanemi gave this to us, remember? Besides, you said he stabbed Nezuko right? He owes her.” 

“Well, when you put it that way,” Tanjiro relented, a shard of old anger coming into his grin. “I’m sure he won’t miss the money.” 

“...I’m sorry?” The woman blinked, eyes wide as she paused in counting out their money. “Your sister’s fiance stabbed her?”

Shit. Genya had forgotten how strange some of their history could sound to people who didn’t understand the context. He should have been more careful. He opened his mouth to blurt out the explanation on the tip of his tongue, but Naho beat him to it.

“Haha, no, Mr. Sanemi isn’t Nezuko’s fiance, he’s the Wind Hashira!” She smiled up to the woman, who mouthed the words ‘Wind Hashira’ to herself like she’d never heard of the title before. Which, Genya supposed, she hadn’t. Naho went on, much to Genya and Tanjiro’s rising mortification as they locked eyes.

“He’s really nice, but he stabbed Nezuko once because she was a demon. It’s okay though, ‘cuz Nezuko got better and now she’s going to marry Zenitsu, the Thunder Pillar! Mr. Sanemi wouldn’t want to marry Nezuko anyway, he’s already in love with-”

“Okay Naho, it’s time for us to go,” Genya said, clapping a hand over her mouth to prevent her from spilling anymore details to the stunned woman. 

“Thank you for the kimono, I know she’ll love it!” Tanjiro said, taking the ornate box from the counter and hurrying for the exit.

“Ah- Thank you for your business, have a pleasant day,” The woman said, still sounding a little dazed as Genya and Naho hurried out behind Tanjiro. The bell above the door jingled as they left. 

“Naho, you can’t just say things like that!” Genya scolded even as he laughed once they made it out to the safety of the street, “You’ll scare people!”

“Huh? O-oh!” Naho paled as she realized, “I’m sorry! I keep forgetting what’s a secret, and what isn’t!”

“It’s alright, no harm done,” Tanjiro laughed, the kimono box tucked snug under his right arm. “Besides, there’s nothing to be afraid of anymore, the demons are all gone. Well,” he glanced at Genya, “Almost all gone, anyway.” 

Genya nodded. That was at least one fact he could be glad of. 

People passed them on the street. Tall and short, fat and thin, bright and dull and everything in between. Each one with their own lives and hopes and dreams. 

How many of them have been affected by demons? Genya thought as they strolled at a leisurely pace down the street, eyes bouncing from one person to the next. How many of them have lost a friend or a family member?

There weren’t any more monsters in the darkness, waiting to rip people to shreds. How long until they were completely forgotten, written off as nothing but fairy tales to scare children into being good?

His hand gripped the cloth of his purple yukata over his chest, where his heart beat in weak pumps.

How long until the very last trace of demons vanished completely?

“The park is this way!” Naho said, pulling them to the right and out of the way of a donkey cart as they turned the corner. Genya spotted some tall ginko trees and bamboo stalks peeking up from behind the ornate roofs of square buildings. “Oh, and there’s an ice cream vendor there too! He can make you any flavor you want!”

Genya raised his eyebrows. That was a rare delicacy indeed. He’d only had ice cream once, after Sanemi had earned some for helping the shopkeeper repair the splitting boards on the front of his store. Genya had been young, and they’d had to split the treat between all seven of them. He and his sister Sumi had fought over who got the bigger scoop, as usual, and Sanemi had laughed before slicing his own portion in half and giving more to each of them. 

“Keep it a secret, okay?” Sanemi had said, glancing over at their younger siblings. 

“But… ‘Nemi…” Genya had said, looking down at the treat before him in wonder. “Now you don’t get to have any.” 

“Yeah, you’re the oldest,” Sumi had said, her eyes wide as she tried to refuse Sanemi’s offer. “And it was yours to begin with! You didn’t have to share!”

“Of course I did,” Sanemi had laughed, ruffling Sumi’s hair. “That’s what an older brother is for. But listen, you two are the next oldest, right?”

Genya and Sumi looked at each other, then nodded. 

“That means they all look up to you, too.” Sanemi said, glancing over again to where Teiko, Hiroshi, Shuya, and little Koto laughed and jabbered excitedly over their treat. “I wanted to give you two a little something special to thank you for being so good with them. I appreciate it a lot, and I know it means the world to Ma as well.”

A glow of pride came into Genya’s chest, and from the shine in Sumi’s eyes he could tell she felt the same thing. 

“So, you two enjoy.” Sanemi had said, clapping Genya on the shoulder and tucking a stray lock of hair behind Sumi’s ear before rising to his feet. “And keep setting a good example for the others.”

Genya couldn’t remember what flavor the ice cream had been anymore. But he remembered working extra hard with Sumi after that, washing up dishes after their meals and making sure the floor was swept before their mother returned home. Keeping the little ones away as Kyogo returned home even later, drunk and raging, before finally collapsing in a befuddled haze into his futon, leaving his children to pick up after him. He remembered Sanemi’s gaze on him as they cleaned up scattered rice and shards of broken bottles together, warm and proud, and the promise he had made to himself. 

Big brother, I’m gonna be just like you someday.

Genya’s thoughts refocused on the grass beneath him as they stepped into the park. The scent of clear water and the sounds of rustling leaves and quacking ducks on its glassy surface. Fall was fast approaching and several of the ginko leaves above them were already a rich golden yellow on the branches, and would occasionally flutter down around them in bright spiraling motions before settling with their fallen leafy comrades on the ground. Others landed with a slight ripple in the pond, where they floated about in lazy drifting motions. Some bright flowers still bloomed in manicured plots of earth surrounded by rocks and boulders, and a few couples sat on blankets and watched the pond. Older folks sat on benches here and there, or strolled through the grounds at a languid pace. 

“Over there!” Naho pointed to a little building with a pointed roof, and a sign proclaiming that it was indeed an ice cream shop. 

“Whats your favorite flavor, Naho?” Tanjiro asked as they approached. 

“Oh, there are so many, I can’t choose one,” Naho laughed, “But Mr. Sanemi likes mint, and Mr. Giyuu likes vanilla!”

Expensive tastes… Genya thought with a raised eyebrow. Vanilla didn’t grow in Japan. It had to be imported from far away, (someplace called Mexico, or so he had heard,) and could be very expensive if it wasn’t diluted. Genya hadn’t often indulged in desserts, but the few times he’d tasted vanilla he’d found it light and sweet and pleasant. He imagined it would blend perfectly with ice cream. He fingered through the stack of bills in his pocket. It’s not like they were lacking for money here, and even though it would be expensive, it was a tempting choice…

“What’s your favorite ice cream flavor, Mr. Tanjiro?”

“Oh, u-um,” Tanjiro started, glancing toward the stand. “I’ve never actually had it before! What do you think I should get?”

That wasn’t all that surprising to Genya. Tanjiro had grown up as a poor mountain kid after all, and the occupation of Demon Slaying didn’t leave much time for dessert. 

Not that he’d be able to afford it anyway, Genya thought to himself, Not at the rate he gives money away. 

No, Genya wasn’t surprised, but Naho’s jaw dropped open. 

“You’ve never had it?” She exclaimed.

“No, I- Haha, Naho, slow down!” Tanjiro laughed as she took him by the sleeve and marched him to the counter. 

“Sorry Mr. Tanjiro, but we have to fix this immediately. You order first!”

Tanjiro kept up his protests, but Naho would hear none of it, presenting him to the bored-looking man in a white apron and red gloves standing over a wide metal sheet built into the counter. Compartments that must’ve been refrigerated were built into the right and left of the metal plate, the one on the left holding bottles of sweetened cream and the one on the right holding all sorts of different mix-in flavors. 

“Look!” Naho pointed at the fruits through the glass, “You can get mandarin orange! Or peach, or cherry! Or persimmon!”

“I don’t know, they all look good,” Tanjiro sniffed for a moment. His eyes lit up, and he turned to Genya. “Oh, look! They have your favorite!”

Genya followed his pointer finger to a container between the apples and the caramel sauce that held cubes of sweet reddish-pink watermelon. His mouth started watering involuntarily. 

“That one.” He nodded. “I want that one.” 

“Right away,” The man behind the counter said. 

“O-oh, I wasn’t-” Genya tried, but the man was already working. He turned a guilty face to Tanjiro. “I’m sorry… You were supposed to go first…”

“It’s okay,” Tanjiro laughed, “I still don’t know what I want.”

Tanjiro turned back to the options, and Genya turned to see how exactly this ice cream would be made. The man behind the counter plopped a scoop of melon out on the wide metal sheet, then drenched it in a heavy pour from the sweetened cream until a thin layer covered the entire plate. Genya raised an eyebrow. This just looked like a fruity mess. How the hell was this supposed to turn into a dessert? 

A pair of sharp-edged spatulas appeared in the man’s hands, and he chopped the melon into tiny pieces, mixing it into the cream, which had begun to congeal with frost. 

“Whaaat..?” Genya tilted his head as it began to look more and more like the treat he remembered. “How does that work?” 

“There’s a freezer under here.” The man responded with a shrug, motioning down below the counter. “It makes the plate cold enough to freeze things on top.”

Genya nodded slowly. He’d only seen freezers once or twice. Ever since electricity became a big thing and lightbulbs began appearing in every house, people kept coming up with new machines. Trains and radios and heavy-duty factory equipment. He’d even heard of people who had made a machine that could fly over in America. He’d been so focused on demons, he hadn’t realized how much the world was changing in other ways. 

What will Japan look like when I’m old? He wondered, then winced at the dull pain ever present in his chest. Whatever it looked like, there was a real possibility he wouldn’t live long enough to see it. 

He looked at Tanjiro, smiling down as Naho explained all the different flavors to him. He looked at the slight tremble in his scarred and calloused hands, at the wide maroon scar on his forehead. His twenty-fifth birthday was still almost a decade away, but it would still arrive far too soon.

If I don’t live long enough to see it, at least I’ll be in good company. Genya thought grimly, mouth pressed in a tight line. 

The freezing cream on the plate turned a pretty shade of pink, then was scraped up in long rolls of the man’s sharp spatulas and placed in a paper cup. 

“There you go,” the man said, taking Genya’s money and giving him the cup as well as a cheap wooden spoon. “Who’s next?”

“Tanjiro?” Naho prompted. 

“I still can’t choose…” Tanjiro winced. 

Naho looked up at him flatly. She looked at the toppings behind the glass, then up at the man. 

“He’ll have peach, kiwi, and pineapple.”

“Fine by me.” The man shrugged, scooping out the fruit onto the plate.

"That's allowed?” Tanjiro blinked, surprised, then turned to Naho. “And how did you know that’s what I wanted?”

“Those are the ones you were looking at the most.” She shrugged, then looked back at the man. “And I’ll have apple and pear with honey when you’re done with that one, please.”

The man nodded as he chopped out Tanjiro’s ingredients over the freezing plate. Genya watched, partly because it was interesting, and partly because it’d be rude to eat his own without the others. Truthfully, it was taking everything he had not to dig in right away, as the watermelon ice cream smelled amazing. But no, he’d stay strong. All Gyomei’s endurance training wouldn’t be for nothing. 

“You’d better eat that before it melts,” Tanjiro laughed as if he could read his mind, looking at Genya’s paper cup. 

“W-what? No, I don’t want to eat without you two. Besides…” the tips of Genya’s ears reddened. “Ma always told us that food tastes better when you eat together.”

Tanjiro blinked, slightly taken aback, then smiled. 

“You know, I said the same thing to Inosuke once.” 

“Really,” Genya laughed, recalling the Beast Pillar’s terrible table manners. “How’d he take that?”

He often couldn’t get through a full meal at the Kamado house without Inosuke taking something from his plate. That part didn’t bother Genya, (he wasn’t often hungry enough to finish a full meal anyway,) but the Beast Pillar’s disregard for the principles of boundaries and personal space often irked him. Still though, he had been getting along better with Inosuke lately, slowly but surely. Like an annoying little brother. Sure it tested his patience, but he was still family. 

Genya smiled slightly. It had been a long time since he’d had an annoying little brother.

“Pretty well, I think!” Tanjiro chuckled, “He doesn’t challenge me to duels half as often anymore. You should have seen him when Zenitsu and I first met him.” 

The man finished Tanjiro’s ice cream next. It came out an interesting shade of greenish-brownish-yellow, but it smelled pretty good, and Tanjiro seemed happy. They waited for Naho’s, which turned out a creamy yellowish-white with flecks of green apple and pear skin here and there. They thanked the man, then moved off to a grassy spot at the edge of the pond to enjoy their treats and watch the ducks swim in ripples over the water. 

“Let’s dig in!” Tanjiro cheered as he sat down next to Genya.

Genya didn’t need to be told twice. He brought the spoon to his mouth and practically inhaled the ice cream, reveling as the cool sweetness melted over his tongue and soothed his eternally-sore throat. 

The melon’s flavor seemed heightened when frozen. Sharper. Almost like the peak of the flavor was brought to the surface, bursting over his tastebuds and injecting his brain with pure bliss. He generally didn’t like it when a food was too strong in one flavor domain, (too spicy or two sweet or what have you,) but for this he could make an exception.

Before he knew it, half his bowl was gone and his molars felt frozen. 

“Good?” Tanjiro asked, grinning over at him with his own wooden spoon in his mouth.

“Mmm.” Genya nodded through another mouthful. “Mhmm.” 

“Do you wanna try mine?” Tanjiro asked, offering a spoonful of his own. “We can trade!”

Genya felt his face heat. A tiny, greedy part of him didn’t want to trade, wanted to sink his claws into this icy ambrosia and not give up an ounce of this, the greatest thing he’d ever tasted. The demon inside him growled, pacing around his head like a dog defending its territory.

Yes, a tiny part of him wanted that, but a much larger and much greedier part of him wanted to drink up as much of Tanjiro as possible. 

He remembered drinking from Tanjiro’s canteen on the way to his home on Mount Kumotori. Falling asleep in the same bedroll. Sharing ramen from the same chopsticks at the shop back in Hanno. And here Tanjiro was again, offering a taste from his own spoon. Such intimate gestures, but they felt nothing but natural coming from Tanjiro. Genya would be a fool to pass any of them up. 

“Sure.” He smiled softly, scooping up some of his own ice cream onto his little wooden spoon to trade with the Sun Hashira. 

They swapped, and ate. Despite the odd color it had turned, Tanjiro’s ice cream was delicious. The acidity of the pineapple was balanced perfectly by the sweetness of the peach, with a mellow current of kiwi floating around in the background. Genya still preferred the watermelon of course, but Tanjiro’s had turned out very good as well.

“Wow, it’s so sweet!” Tanjiro’s eyes lit up, and he put a hand over his full mouth politely as he spoke. “That was a good melon!” 

“We’ve gotta come back here later.” Genya nodded in agreement as they gave each other their spoons back.

“It’s so nice of Mr. Sanemi to give us all these nice things today!” Naho said happily between bites of her own ice cream. “Mmm, do you think we should bring some back for him and Mr. Giyuu right now?” 

“Uhh… I think they’re busy…” Genya said, exchanging a quick glance with Tanjiro. “Maybe later.” 

“Right…” Tanjiro laughed, “Uh, how long do you think they’ll be… busy for?”

Genya blinked. Truthfully, he had no idea. 

“Let’s just go back for dinner,” Genya shrugged. Surely they’d be done by then, whatever they were doing.

Tanjiro seemed to agree. They spent the next few hours by the pond, watching the ducks and telling stories. Tanjiro smiled happily when he saw that Genya had finished his entire bowl of ice cream, always happy to see him eating and echoing Genya’s statement that they’d have to come back for more later before rising and dusting off the back of his haori. 

“Let’s go back to town, I’d like to get something nice for Giyuu.”

“Like what?” 

“I’m not sure.” Tanjiro shrugged. “But I’ll know it when I see it.” 

Genya nodded. It’d be good of him to get something for Sanemi too. 

“I’m gonna get them some flowers.” Naho nodded, “That’s what my sisters always said were romantic.” 

“Oh, good idea,” Tanjiro’s eyes widened. “What are their favorites?”

Naho opened her mouth to respond, then frowned. “Huh, I’m not actually sure. We grow all types of different flowers at the Wind Estate. Do you know, Mr. Genya?” 

Genya shook his head. Truthfully, he didn’t think Sanemi would be the type to like flowers, but still. He’d discovered a lot of surprising things about his brother over the last few days. He’d never expected him to be the type to fall for Giyuu of all people either, after all. 

They walked back into town, weaving in and out of tea shops and clothing stores and a shop that only sold eyeglasses. They stopped for a late lunch at a fried rice cart, (Genya could once again eat only about half his portion,) then continued on their quest.

“What do beetles eat?” Genya asked, frowning down at a sack of rice. They had ended up in a general goods store, as Naho still had to do some grocery shopping for the Wind Estate, and they figured it’d be as good a place as any to look for other gifts. “Maybe I can get Sanemi something for them.” 

He looked to the front door, wondering if they should leave. Calling this place a general store was generous, it looked nicer than most places Genya had been, (it even had mannequins in the wide glass window next to the front door,) and carried everything from local food and cloth to goods imported all the way from India and even France. He didn't think Sanemi would be interested in French soaps or Indian jewelry. But this was where Naho always shopped, so here they were.

“Uh, I don’t know,” Tanjiro tilted his head as he sniffed at some fancy scented oils a few feet away, “Sticks? Dirt?”

“They don’t eat dirt.” Genya’s frown deepened. He was no beetle expert, but he was reasonably sure they didn’t eat dirt. Sticks though, there was an idea. He could just grab a handful from a tree on the side of the road on their way home, easy. 

That’d make for a pretty lame gift though… Genya thought, his eyebrows scrunching together.

“We feed them cabbage,” Naho said from where she looked through jars of preserved fruit to his left. “You don’t have to worry about that, there are plenty in the cooler, and they’re not expensive at all.” 

“Hmm.” Genya frowned, moving on to the fancy side of the aisle with Tanjiro and looking down at a set of paints. “What about the cages, does he have enough of those?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Naho said, loading a few fruit preserves and a sack of flour into a basket the shop had provided, “He gets them specially made.” 

“Damn.” Genya frowned, feeling the large walls of bills in his pocket. Sanemi could buy anything he wanted. What to get for the man who had everything? 

Naho finished her shopping. Tanjiro picked out a few perfumes and necklaces and tins of cosmetic powders for Nezuko, but didn’t have any luck finding anything for Giyuu. They went to the checkout counter, loading their items one by one for the tall young man in a black shop apron to count up their total.

Genya’s eyes lit up as he spotted something on the shelf behind the shopkeeper, between a gilded music box with a pair of rabbits and a jar of colorful candies. The item called to him, like a lighthouse over a stormy sea. Out of everything in this entire store, no, out of everything on the entire street, this was the best thing money could buy.

“Excuse me,” he pointed, “is that for sale?”

“Hmm?” The cashier turned, “oh yes, eighteen yen. Are you interested?”

Eighteen yen. Much steeper than anything they'd ever purchase back in the old days. But it was perfect, and Genya knew he wouldn't get another chance. He withdrew his own wallet, pushing Sanemi's money deeper into his pocket and counting out the bills.

“I'll take it.” Genya grinned, handing the money over.

“Thank you for your business.” The cashier smiled, “I hope you enjoy.”

“Oh, it's so beautiful,” Tanjiro said as the cashier placed the object into a paper bag, “do you think Sanemi will like it?”

“Yeah.” Genya said, without a doubt. “I do.”

The bell above the door jingled as they exited. Naho insisted on carrying the groceries, claiming she had to get stronger every day if she wanted to be a real swordswoman, and they plodded down the street back towards the Wind Estate. 

“Hey look,” Genya said before they rounded the corner, where a group of people gathered around a vendor selling loads of different flowers from a cart across the street. “A flower cart. Did you still wanna get some, Naho?”

“Oh! Yes!” Her eyes lit up, and she dashed across the street to the vendor. 

Tanjiro laughed as he watched her go, then his eyes widened as he turned to Genya in excitement. 

“I just got a great idea!”

“For a present for Giyuu?”

“Yeah!” Tanjiro smiled, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Can I borrow some of the money?”

“Just take the rest,” Genya said, fishing the wad of Sanemi’s cash out of his pocket, but keeping a few yen to purchase whatever flowers Naho ended up picking. “I don’t think we’ll need much more today anyway.” 

“Thank you! I’ll be right back!” Tanjiro gave him a quick bow of gratitude, then dashed back up the street to the general store. Genya watched in bemusement as his checkered haori flapped in the air, and the distant ding of the bell came again as he entered the building. 

Wonder what he got so excited about, Genya thought as he trundled his way across the street to Naho and the flower cart. It must be a good present. 

The cart was small, but seemed bigger due to the sheer number of blossoms and foliage sticking out of buckets of water within, making it look like an overgrown hill on wheels. Lilies and roses of every color, as well as full azaleas and bright chrysanthemums and a trail of violet wisteria blossoms on a long branch. Two bright butterflies flitted over the cart, as did a couple bees.

Naho stood before them with a hand on her chin, her dark eyes darting between each blossom in scrutiny. 

“Which ones look best?” Genya asked, coming up behind her. 

“I’m not sure…” Naho frowned, “We grew a lot of flowers at the Butterfly Mansion. I think the tulips will die too quickly, and the peonies are pretty, but they lose their petals fast.”

She glanced over to the pair of butterflies, dancing in the air next to the bough of wisteria. Genya thought he saw her mouth tremble. 

“...Flowers don’t last very long anyway. Maybe this isn’t a good present after all.”

Genya had the suspicion she wasn’t only talking about flowers. 

“Maybe…” Genya started, leaning down on his walking stick to put his head closer to hers. “But I think that’s what makes them beautiful, you know? Nothing can bloom forever, so we have to appreciate what we have while it’s there.” 

“I guess…” Naho said, but didn’t look convinced. Genya sighed. 

“Think of Shinobu, and Kanae.” He said softly, and Naho jolted, looking at Genya as though he had read her mind. “They’re gone, but that doesn’t mean we appreciate them any less, does it?” 

“No…” Naho shook her head, looking over at the wisteria again. “It doesn’t. I think about them every day.” 

“That’s good.” Genya smiled. “I know they’re watching over you still.” 

“You think so?” Naho turned to him, her eyes wide and hopeful. “I know we pray to their spirits, but, do you really think they’re out there somewhere?” Her voice went quiet. “They don’t just… leave?”

“I know so.” Genya nodded, thinking back to that time when he almost journeyed to the other side of the aether, split in half on the floor of Kokushibo’s lair. “I’ve seen the spirits of my family before. I know yours are still with you.” 

“Kanao told us that the spirits of Kanae and Shinobu came to her after she decapitated that demon…” Naho said quietly, squeezing the hem of her moss-brown kimono in her hands. “I thought it was so wonderful to think they were still out there…”

A breeze swept over the street, ruffling the flower petals and sending the wisteria branch swaying back and forth. 

“I kept waiting and waiting, but…” She hung her head. “They never came to me.”

Genya’s eyes widened as one of the butterflies fluttered down and landed on the back of Naho’s head. The young girl didn’t seem to notice. 

“Does that mean I did something wrong?” Naho turned her head toward him suddenly. Genya was sure the butterfly would startle and flutter away, but it looked unperturbed, its green and pink wings open and stunning in the sunlight. “Am I not good enough? Are they disappointed in me?”

Her eyes shone with the beginnings of tears, and that all-too-familiar expression of shame and inadequacy lined the edges of her face. Genya knew the feeling well. The butterfly on her head seemed to look up at him, waiting expectantly. Almost like it was counting on him to be a good older brother again in the absence of Naho’s sisters.

I’ll… do what I can… Genya thought, and the butterfly flapped its wings slightly in what almost felt like approval.

“I don’t think they’re disappointed in you…” Genya started, stunned eyes still on the butterfly for a moment before moving down to meet Naho’s gaze. “Sometimes… Sometimes the people who leave us come back in other ways. Like…” His eyes darted around the flower cart until he settled on a bouquet of irises with creamy lavender petals. 

“Like these.” He smiled, reaching out to caress the soft blossoms. “Himejima and I grew these up on his mountain, back when I lived with him. They were his favorites, even though he couldn’t see them. He liked their smell, and the sound they made when the wind blew. Seeing them here makes me remember him.”

A warm feeling settled in his chest as remembered strong hands over his own, digging through the dirt and placing the bulbs below the soil. 

“I don’t see what this has to do with slaying demons…” Genya had grumbled. It had been about two weeks since Gyomei had first taken him under his wing, and they still hadn’t learned a damn thing. 

“It has nothing to do with slaying demons.” Gyomei’s deep voice had rumbled above him. “At least, not directly.” 

“What?!” Genya had shouted, whirling on his master. “What the hell are we doing this for then?!”

“Because I would like to have some flowers.” Gyomei had said simply. 

That’s stupid, you can’t even see them! Genya had wanted to scream, but even his frustration-addled brain knew that would be going too far. Himejima was his master. He didn’t have to take Genya in at all, but he had, and Genya couldn’t risk getting kicked out. He had to show some respect to the great man. He took a deep breath and calmed himself, looking back down to the bulb in the dirt.

“I had also suspected it might teach you some patience.” Gyomei had said, with what almost sounded like a tinge of cheeky cheer. “It looks like I was right.” 

Genya reported the progress of the plants as the iris stalks speared through the earth and budded, then flowered in late July. Gyomei had bent low to sniff them, and smiled, patting Genya on the head.

“See, young sprout,” Gyomei had said, “you'll bloom in time too.”

Genya smiled as the memory faded and he came back to the present. He bent over to sniff the irises in the cart. They smelled just like the ones they had grown. 

Namu amida butsu… Genya thought, offering up a quick prayer of thanks to the spirit of the great man.

“The people we love are always with us,” Genya looked back at Naho. “Even if we don’t see them.”

He looked up above Naho’s head, where a purple and white butterfly had joined the pink and green one. The pair fluttered happily, just out of the young girl’s sight. 

“I know your sisters are watching out for you. I have the feeling they’re a lot closer than you might think.”

“Yeah…” Naho said slowly, looking over at the trailing wisteria blossoms again. “I think you’re right. Thank you, Genya.” 

“Of course.” He nodded. “Now, do you know which flowers you want to get?”

She looked up at the wall of flowers again, still confused. The pink and green butterfly fluttered forward to settle on the single-petaled flower of a large white lily, and the purple and white one took its place on the back of Naho’s head. 

“Calla lilies!” Naho exclaimed, following the path of the pink and green butterfly and grabbing a few of the large flowers by their thick stems. “Oh, these will be perfect! They were Kanae’s favorites, it’ll be like a gift from both of us!”

“Yeah,” Genya smiled, watching as the pink and green butterfly fluttered away, and the purple and white one took off from Naho’s head to follow. “Perfect.”

Naho finally caught sight of both of the little creatures as they rose into the sky, and her eyes widened for a moment before a peaceful smile came to her face.

“Huh… Would you look at that…”

Naho picked out seven lilies. Their long stalks would fit wonderfully in the tall blue vase Genya had seen on top of a shelf in the kitchen. 

They paid for the flowers. Naho picked up their groceries again, and they turned to look for Tanjiro only to see him jogging back down the street with a wide smile on his face and an entire mannequin tucked under his good right arm.

“What.” Genya blinked.

“It's my present for Giyuu!” Tanjiro said excitedly.

“Do you want him to… dress it up or something..?” Naho hoisted her purchases a little higher in the basket on her shoulder, just as confused as Genya.

“No,” Tanjiro laughed, “I only wanted to buy the right arm, but the shop owner said I had to buy the whole thing, since they had no use for an armless mannequin. Oh well, I guess you can use the rest of it as a training dummy!”

“You're gonna make him a prosthetic,” Genya realized, noting the strip of supple leather and securing bolts gripped in Tanjiro's right hand, under the bulk of the mannequin. He must have purchased those at the same time.

“Yeah, I thought it'd be nice for him.” Tanjiro said, then started walking back on the route to the Wind Estate. Genya and Naho matched his pace. “He told me he feels odd and off-balance without it sometimes, and that people give him weird looks when he goes out on the town. He's always been shy. Hopefully with this, people won't notice as much, and he can be more comfortable.”

Practical and thoughtful, it's perfect, Genya thought, sure the Water Pillar would appreciate it. A note of unease pricked at the back of his mind. Suddenly his gift for Sanemi didn't seem very good in comparison. 

They walked through the long walls bordering the wind estate, and finally found themselves back in the manicured training courtyard, their shoes crunching over the layer of white stones as they approached the main doors. 

“I don’t hear anything…” Tanjiro muttered, exchanging a brief glance with Genya, who shook his head. The house was silent, as far as he could tell. 

“Uh, Sanemi?” Genya called, raising his voice up to the second story windows, where he’d been told Sanemi and Giyuu’s quarters were. “We’re back!”

Nothing happened for a moment. Then there was some shuffling, and his older brother appeared in a high window. He wore a dull green robe around his shoulders, though it was loose and open over his scarred chest. He looked both a little out of breath, and annoyed. Genya winced. It looked like they’d caught them in the middle of something after all. 

“You brats are back early.” Sanemi huffed. 

“It’s been like ten hours?” Genya countered. 

“Has it?” Sanemi looked slightly surprised, then squinted up at the sky, which had begun to shift from afternoon to evening. “Huh.” 

He looked back down at them, frowning as his gaze landed on Tanjiro.

“What the fuck is that?” 

“A present for Giyuu!” Tanjiro smiled brightly, hoisting the mannequin a bit higher. Sanemi looked to Genya for clarification, but Genya could only shrug.

“...Right.” Sanemi said after a moment, scrunching his eyebrows together before looking down to his Tsuguko. “Did you have fun out with the other Pillars today, kid?”

“Yes, Shinazugawa-sensei!” Naho exclaimed happily from the ground next to Genya, who still reeled a bit at being referred to as a Hashira. Part of him suspected he always would. “It was great, thank you! Did you and Mr. Tomioka enjoy your time together?” 

“Good, I’m glad.” Sanemi nodded, but a smile came to his face as he looked back inside the house. “And yeah, it’s been a good day.”

Giyuu’s voice came from deeper in the house, though Genya couldn’t pick out what he said. Sanemi laughed, then closed the window. 

Naho brought her groceries into the kitchen. Tanjiro and Genya helped her put them away, then started on dinner, udon noodles in a miso base with spiced fish and pickled plum. Naho chopped up some vegetables to boil in the stock, and Tanjiro added a few dashes of different spices to heighten the flavor before giving Genya a spoonful to taste test. 

“Hmm…” Genya thought aloud, letting the flavors mingle on his tongue, then swallowing. “It’s pretty perfect, just needs to simmer a bit longer. Maybe twenty minutes?”

Sanemi and Giyuu appeared a few minutes later, dressed in suitable clothes and looking like nothing out of the ordinary had happened, though they did seem to cling closer to each other than usual. Sanemi’s hand lingered in the crook of Giyuu’s elbow as they came down the stairs. Giyuu leaned against Sanemi’s shoulder as Naho presented them with the bouquet of white calla lilies in the kitchen. They would exchange glances when they thought no one else noticed, and the smiles never dropped from either of their faces. Genya and Tanjiro exchanged a glance and a secret smile of their own. It was good to see the pair so happy.

Even so, Tanjiro managed to separate the amorous couple for a moment, bringing Giyuu over to the mannequin he’d purchased out in the courtyard. Giyuu seemed confused, until Tanjiro explained his plan.

“What do you think?” Tanjiro asked, an eager smile on his face as he moved the mannequin’s right arm up and down. “We can measure it out to fit you, and under your haori it’ll look just like you never lost it! That way, maybe people won’t stare at you as much.”

“I see…” Giyuu’s eyes widened a touch, “Yes, I’d like that.” 

Tanjiro marked the measurements after comparing it to the stump of Giyuu’s right arm, then Giyuu chopped it from the mannequin with a single slash as precise as the surface of water. The pair measured out the leather strips and formed a kind of harness that bolted into the dead wood of the mannequin and secured around Giyuu’s neck, shoulder, and chest, and soon enough, the Water Pillar had two arms again. A small smile came over his face, and he swayed slightly from side to side, testing the wooden limb’s weight. Neither of them were expert carvers or leatherworkers so the end result still looked a bit clunky and would probably need some adjustment, but Genya had to admit Tanjiro was handy. 

“Huh…” Sanemi said from behind Genya in the doorway, and he almost jumped in surprise. He hadn’t heard his older brother approach at all. But Sanemi wasn’t focused on him. No, he was looking out at Giyuu, a slight tilt to his head and an expression Genya hadn’t seen before on his face. Worry, mixed with appreciation and hesitancy, and something deeper that Genya couldn’t quite place.

“...That’s almost the happiest I’ve ever seen him.” Sanemi said, and Genya frowned a bit. Truthfully, the Water Pillar only looked slightly cheerful to him, but Sanemi knew him a lot better than Genya did, he could probably pick up on the little intricacies in Giyuu’s posture or expression. 

“That’s Tanjiro for you,” Genya said, “It’s like, his personal mission on earth to make everyone happy.”

And he’s pretty damn good at it, Genya thought, looking to where Tanjiro laughed and smiled in a ray of unflinching positivity toward the not-so-gloomy Water Hashira.

Sanemi shuffled a bit, the fingers of his left hand drumming into the spaces where the missing fingers of his right hand used to be. A crease appeared between his eyebrows.

“I didn’t realize it meant that much to him.” 

“What, getting his arm chopped off?” Genya frowned. Sure, his own arms had been lopped off more times than he could count, but he was a unique case. Other people’s arms couldn’t reattach. “Yeah, I think that’d be pretty impactful.” 

“That’s not how I meant it.” Sanemi’s mouth twisted in frustration. “It’s just… As Demon Slayers, we were supposed to put life and limb on the line. Even more so as Hashira.” 

He sighed, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back against the doorframe, eyes still on his partner. 

“I don’t know. Obanai and I talked about it sometimes. It’s like… The purpose of our bodies was as logs in a fire, to burn for as long as we could before giving out, you know? This is the cause we dedicated our lives to. This was our purpose. To lose a leg or an eye was just part of the job.” 

He shook his head, laughing a little. “Obanai was pissed at Tengen for retiring after just losing a hand and an eye. You should’ve seen it.”

Genya nodded slowly. That line of thinking made sense. He’d believed in it himself, once. That was simply how it had to be, to stand a chance against the threat of demonkind. 

“But…” He started, “The war is over now. We don’t have to be logs in a fire anymore.”

He looked down at his own hands, scarred and rugged and slightly bent at odd angles where he’d broken fingers and wrist bones. There wasn’t a single part of him that had been spared the ravages of war either. 

He’d fully expected to die in that castle, side by side with Muichiro, Himejima, and his brother. Every new day felt like a mistake. A gift he shouldn’t have been given. 

A tiny mercy, from a world that had been cruel to him for so long.

A hope that maybe, one day, he could truly be at peace.

“I think that’s something we all have to get used to.” Genya said quietly

A bit of the tension in Sanemi’s shoulders relaxed. He exhaled, long and low, then turned to his younger brother. 

“I think you’re right.” 

Tanjiro wedged a wooden bokuto into the mannequin’s stiff fingers, laughing as Giyuu swung his torso to wave the blade around in floppy, imperfect motions. He could hardly believe it, but it sounded like Giyuu was laughing too. Sanemi’s eyes crinkled as a soft smile came to his scarred face. Somewhere in the house, dinner was starting to smell delicious.

“Hey, uh,” Genya started, suddenly feeling awkward. “I, um, picked up something for you too while we were out.”

“For me?” Sanemi tilted his head to the side, “I don’t need anything.”

“I know,” Genya winced. This was stupid. It was a lame present anyway, Sanemi probably wouldn’t even like it. “I just…”

He bit his lip, then reached into his pocket, grabbing hold of the cloth-wrapped bundle he’d purchased at the store and shoving it towards his brother. 

“Here. It’s okay if you don’t like it. I just,” He finally looked up into Sanemi’s bewildered eyes, meeting his gaze with what he hoped was an expression of sincerity. “I wanted to make up for lost time too.”

Sanemi blinked, surprised, then took the bundle from Genya’s hands. He unwrapped the cloth, eyes widening in wonder. 

The toy samurai in Sanemi’s hands was a little smaller than the one he’d given to Genya. Its clothes were made from cheaper material, and Genya had a suspicion the golden buttons and sword were just coated tin. It had no custom paint job, and there was a slight crack in the porcelain of its left arm.

“His robes are green…” Genya muttered for Sanemi’s benefit, remembering he was colorblind. “Your favorite. I thought… I thought you should have one too. Just like we always wanted, remember?”

Genya risked a glance up at his brother’s face. Sanemi was still stunned, looking down at the little samurai in disbelief.

His jaw clenched. Just as he feared, the toy sucked and Sanemi hated it. 

“I’m sorry,” He shook his head, attempting to dissolve the negativity. “It’s lame, I know, I just… I thought we could play together…”

His sentence trailed off in a mumble, and he mentally face-palmed himself. This was embarrassing. Sanemi didn’t want to play with toys, he was a Hashira, one of the most powerful swordsmen who had ever lived. 

Another apology lingered on the tip of his tongue, but to his surprise Sanemi stepped forward and swept him into a tight embrace. For a moment, the two halves of him were pressed together again, and the ever-present ache abated. 

For a moment, he was whole. 

“Thank you,” Sanemi stepped back after a moment, clutching the doll tight in his left hand and wiping his eyes dry with his right. “I love it. We can play together as much as you want.”

His older brother’s eyes shone in the fading sunlight, the smile he remembered from their youth plain across his face. 

Both Shinazugawa brothers startled as Tanjiro and Giyuu finished up with the prosthetic, crunching over the white gravel as they drew closer to the house.

“Ehem,” Sanemi cleared his throat as they approached. “In a cool way though.” 

“In a cool way.” Genya agreed hurriedly, feeling Tanjiro’s curious eyes on him already. “Of course.”

Sanemi gave him a small smile, then turned to Giyuu as the pair approached. He wrapped an arm around the Water Pillar’s shoulders, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek and stowing the little green samurai safely in his pocket.

“How’s the arm, then?”

“Great,” Giyuu grinned broadly, and Genya blinked. He’d never seen that expression on the man before. Sanemi was right, he was happy. “I didn’t realize how different I felt without it.” 

“I’m glad.” Sanemi smiled back, then took on a flirty tone as the pair moved deeper into the house. “Shame it doesn’t have all your sexy muscles though.” 

“You can carve some for me.” 

Tanjiro approached him next, a joyful light dancing in his ruby and cracked-pink eyes. 

“Did Sanemi like your present?” 

“Yeah.” Genya nodded, a soft glow creeping into his chest. “He really did.”

“I knew he would.” Tanjiro grinned. 

“And Giyuu likes yours a lot as well.” Genya nodded, “I have to say, I’m surprised.” 

“Surprised?”

“You gave him a wooden arm.” Genya lightly shoved Tanjiro’s shoulder, a teasing lilt to his voice. “Who does that? You weirdo.” 

“Haha, well, it worked, didn’t it?” Tanjiro snickered, and Genya had to admit, it did.

The pair basked in their successful gift-giving to their older brothers for a moment, then followed them inside for dinner. The calla lilies made a lovely centerpiece on the low table in the dining room, and somewhere out there, Genya suspected a pair of butterflies were still dancing in the sunset.

Chapter Text

“Flame breathing, Second Form,” Sanemi said, bringing his green-clad Samurai figurine up into the air, its gold-painted sword tip gleaming in the late morning light that filtered in  through Genya’s window. “Rising Scorching Sun!”

Sanemi made the whistling sound effects of a blazing fire in the back of his throat with a whoosh of an exhale, shaking the samurai around in an effort to mimic an actual breathing technique. 

Genya hadn’t really expected Sanemi to take him up on his offer to play with toys, thinking it more a symbolic gesture kind of thing, but Sanemi had knocked on his door bright and early, his green samurai doll in his hands and an eager smile on his face. They’d been at it for about three hours now, chatting idly and making up an adventure of two samurai brothers who traveled the world, learning every breathing technique there was. Right now, Sanemi had revealed his samurai to be a traitor to the noble samurai cause, and the two were locked in a vicious and dramatic fight to the death. 

“Oh yeah?” Genya countered with a grin, “Mist Breathing, Fourth Form: Shifting Flow Slash!”

“Augh,” Sanemi exclaimed as though he had actually gotten hit as Genya shoved his purple samurai against his. “Alright, you asked for it. Love Breathing, Fifth Form: Swaying Love, Wildclaw!”

Genya’s eyes widened. He recalled hearing Mitsuri yell that technique at the top of her voice that night in the Swordsmith Village as he and Nezuko were wrapped in the binding embrace of the demonic wooden dragons. He remembered an absolute explosion of severed tree trunks, and a veritable tornado of pink slashes visible even above the treetops. Sanemi was bringing his samurai up into the air already. He had to counter fast.

“Uhhh, Stone Breathing, Third Form! Stone Skin!”

“You don’t have the right weapon for Stone Breathing.” Sanemi frowned, pausing their game. “It has to be big and heavy, like Gyomei’s was.”

“No it doesn’t,” Genya shook his head. “He had me train with a normal sword when I was learning.” 

Genya had been Gyomei’s student. He knew how Stone Breathing worked. Sorta.

“And that’s why you didn’t learn Stone Breathing.” Sanemi snickered. 

“Hey, I tried my best,” Genya huffed. “Besides, you don’t have the right weapon for Love Breathing either.” 

“Kanroji started with a normal katana,” Sanemi rolled his eyes, “Rengoku told me. The swordsmiths only made her her special one after she showed them what she could do and how it would fit her style better.” 

Oh. Genya hadn’t known that. But it made sense, he supposed, how was anyone supposed to start learning with a weapon like that?

“Well I’m still gonna use Stone Skin.” Genya stuck his jaw out. He wiggled his samurai around, the ceramic joints clinking together. “There. Your attack failed.” 

“Fine then,” Sanemi grinned wickedly, “If that’s how you wanna play. Blood Demon Art, Crescent Moon Blades!”
“Hey, no fair, that’s the one that got me!” Genya protested, his scar flaring briefly at the mention of the terrifying technique. 

The whisper-sharp whirling blades of the demon Kokushibo came to the front of his mind in an instant, pale as moonbeams and deadly as any sword. He grit his teeth. That had been a hard night. But he wouldn’t fall to that terrible power twice, especially when Sanemi wasn’t playing fair.

“And besides,” Genya narrowed his eyes with a huff. “Only demons can use Blood Demon Techniques. Since when were you a demon?”

“I always was.” Sanemi said smugly, waving his doll in the air. “I’ve been hiding the truth from you this entire time.” 

“No,” Genya said with a mock gasp, “Prepare to die!”

The tiny samurai figures were brought into the air at the same time, but their wielders were interrupted by a thudding sound and raised voices in the hall. 

“Mr. Sanemi!” Naho’s voice called frantically, “Come quick!” 

Sanemi shared a flit of a worried glance with Genya, then put his samurai down and got to his feet, sliding the door open and moving quickly into the hall, where soon enough his shouts joined those of Tanjiro and Naho. Genya put his doll down too, moving to see what all the fuss was about.

“I told you to keep the door closed!” Sanemi was shouting as Genya stepped out into the hallway. “What the hell happened?” 

“We’re sorry, Shinazugawa-san!” Tanjiro exclaimed, “They all got out too fast!”

“Tanjiro wanted to help me feed them!” Naho cried out next, clutching a cabbage to her chest. Two more had been dropped on the floor. “We tried to get in quickly, but-”

Genya didn’t hear the rest of her sentence, as a droning buzz caught his ear, and a reddish-brown beetle roughly the size of his fist flew directly into his face. 

“AAAAAAGH!” He screamed, flailing in blind panic and bumping back against the wall. “Get it off, get it off!”

The beetle had landed with a soft thunk on his brow bone, right over his left eye and part of his nose. His first instinct was to slap the thing away in fear, but he stayed his hand. The tiny creature was Sanemi’s pet after all, he didn’t want to hurt it. Even so, its barbed feet pinched into his face as it secured its hold on his eyebrow and soft eyelid, and a strange clicking came from its mandibles. A choked whimper came from Genya’s throat as it crawled over his face, and it took everything in him to keep his arms pinned at his sides. 

“Stay still, I got it,” Sanemi stepped, reaching out a hand. “And… there. All good.”

Genya breathed out a sigh of relief and rubbed his face, looking down to see two more beetles struggling dumbly in Sanemi’s other hand. There looked to be about a dozen scattered around the hall, crawling over walls and floors or drifting slowly through the air on heavy buzzing wings. Tanjiro was moving around carefully, picking them up one by one and not noticing a stray insect that clung to the back of his haori, and naho picked up the cabbage that several had swarmed onto. 

“Let’s get them back into the room,” Sanemi huffed, “I’ll have to fix their cages, again.”

Giyuu poked his head around the corner, drawn by the commotion, eyes widening as he saw his boyfriend, pupil, and assorted guests covered in bugs. 

“I told you to buy the wire mesh cages.” He said flatly, “They just chew through the reed ones.” 

“I know, I know,” Sanemi snapped, “Help me, will you?”

Giyuu blinked slowly, but bent down and picked up a beetle. His wooden arm clacked against the floor. 

Genya looked down at the creatures crawling slowly over the floor and walls. He’d never particularly liked bugs, and these ones bore a certain resemblance to the roaches that infested their apartment every summer.

“Nii-chan, I’m scared!” Their younger sister Teiko had screamed, peeking around the corner at the roach that had crawled out from the kitchen cupboard. 

“What are you afraid of?” Sanemi had laughed, bending down close to examine the creature. “It’s so small, it could never hurt you.”

Genya had disagreed. He’d only been seven years old then, but he’d heard all about poisonous bugs. Spiders and scorpions and stinging centipedes. What if this was one of them? 

An uncomfortable fear swelled in his chest. What if it hurt his older brother?

“I don’t care!” Teiko stuck out her tongue, “It’s gross, kill it, kill it!”

“What, like how dad always kills them?” Sanemi’s eyes had flashed, and Genya felt a worm of guilt creeping into his stomach. 

“Well…” Teiko had winced, and Genya knew she was thinking the same thing. None of them wanted to be anything like Kyogo. Their mother’s face bore a fresh bruise this morning, after all. 

“I’ll bring it outside.” Sanemi said simply, scooping the creature up in his hands. 

“What? No!” Teiko exclaimed, then shrank away as Sanemi and the cockroach drew near, hiding behind Genya. “Mom says if you do that, they’ll just come back inside!”

“I’ll carry it far away then.” Sanemi shrugged, moving past them to the front door. “And if it comes back, I’ll just carry it back outside again. I’ll take care of it, as many times as it takes.” 

Teiko blinked in bewilderment, looking up at Genya, who just shrugged. If this was what Sanemi said, it was the right thing to do. 

“But… Why?”

“It didn’t do anything wrong,” Sanemi said simply, “It’s just small, and lost. We don’t have to be mean to it.”

He stopped in the front doorway, then looked back at his siblings, a glint to his eyes under his messy white hair. 

“Don’t you think, if something much bigger and stronger than you came along, you’d want it to be kind to you too?” 

A sting of bittersweet melancholy came to Genya as the memory faded. If only the things that were much bigger and stronger than they were had been merciful. 

He looked down at the wooden floor, where a beetle headbutted repeatedly and quite uselessly into his sandal. He smiled, then picked up the creature by the carapace, watching as its legs jerked about as if trying to claw footholds into the air. A slight huff of mirth escaped his mouth. The little creature was cute, in a way.

“Don’t worry,” He murmured, tucking the beetle gently into his palm, cupping one hand over the other. “I’m not gonna hurt you.” 

The beetle didn’t understand him of course, continuing to try and headbutt against Genya’s closed hands as he followed the others into Sanemi’s beetle room. 

The space was large, about fifteen by fifteen feet. Tables lined each wall, with another in the middle of the room, all covered with large reed cages, and all swarming with beetles. Genya thought there must’ve been thirty or forty, crawling over every surface. Loose leaf scrap and sticks were scattered over the floor and tables from where it spilled out from inside the cages the beetles had gnawed through, and here and there was a book on beetle care or a magnifying glass or bottles of what Genya could only assume were some kind of beetle medicine. He suspected the late Dr. Kocho’s hand in the latter. He’d heard the woman had no love for furry creatures, but maybe a beetle would be right up her alley. 

“Okay.” Sanemi winced, looking around at the chaos. “Let’s get all the females into the big cage in the middle. I’m not dealing with another bunch of grubs again.”

“The males are the ones with the long horns, see?” Naho said, holding up a beetle for Genya to see the sharp point growing out of its face. “The females get along fine, but we have to keep the males in their own cages or they’ll fight each other.” 

“Yeah, don’t let them do that,” Sanemi said, snatching up a male beetle before it could catapult another male beetle into the air. “And watch your step, everyone.” 

Genya looked down at the beetle in his hands. No horn, it must’ve been a female. He placed it into the large cage on the center table as Naho lifted the lid. The little creature skittered over the layer of dry leaves and dirt for a moment, then buried herself contentedly in the loam.

“This is getting out of hand, Sanemi.” Giyuu said, though not unkindly. “This is the third time they’ve gotten out since I’ve been here. You need better cages.” 

“I’m not getting the mesh ones.” Sanemi crossed his arms, looking away from Giyuu. “I told you.” 

“They’re the best option,” Giyuu protested, “They chew through every reed cage you’ve given them. They can’t chew through metal.”

“I’m not doing it!” Sanemi whirled on Giyuu, a tinge of his old malice in his face. 

Giyuu didn’t flinch, but he didn’t back down either, staring at his partner with those cool blue eyes and a crease between his eyebrows. Naho’s eyes widened and she puffed out a cheek as she looked away, dropping a female beetle into the central cage with the others. Tanjiro gave Genya an urgent glance, asking him without words to intervene. Genya swallowed hard, still a little afraid of his brother’s temper, but obliged. 

“Um…” He started softly, “Why not?” 

Sanemi turned to him, the rage on his face melting away as he saw the frightened expression on Genya’s. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, then looked between Genya and Giyuu each. 

“...I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have shouted.” He grumbled after a moment, then leaned back against the table, looking down at a beetle he held in his hands. “I should have explained myself better. I’m… I’m working on that.” 

No one said anything. Sanemi took a breath, then began. 

“When I got my first beetle, I kept him in a mesh cage. I thought the same as you did, that it’d be perfect, there was no way he could get out. Everything was good for a while. I even kept it next to my bed while I slept. But one night, he was just making so much noise, just banging around in there, over and over for hours. I didn’t know much about them back then. I thought it might’ve been mating season or that he was molting or something, and that it’d be best to leave him be, so I went to sleep.” 

Sanemi flexed his hands, the tendons of his missing fingers pronounced against the back of his right hand. The muscles in his jaw bunched tight together. The dead pale skin of the pinwheel mark on his face seemed to stiffen, almost like a scar.

“When I woke up the next morning, he was dead and missing a leg. It was stuck higher up in the mesh, where he liked to crawl. I realized he must have gotten stuck in the night, and spent hours trying to tug himself free, eventually pulling his own leg off. The effort and blood loss killed him.”

Naho let out a little gasp of pity. Genya’s eyes widened. Sanemi grit his teeth. 

“I was supposed to take care of him, but I just slept through the whole thing. He must have been in so much pain.” 

Genya opened his mouth to say something, but didn’t know what to say. He shut it again as Sanemi continued. 

“I’m a Hashira, I have responsibilities, I don’t have time to watch over my beetles all day even if I wanted to. So I use reed cages. They’re flexible, and they never get stuck. I don’t mind that they get out every now and then if it means they won’t hurt themselves. I’ll take care of them, as many times as it takes.”

The little roach on the floor of their apartment all those years ago came to mind. The corners of Genya’s mouth turned up, just a little. Sanemi had changed a lot, but some things would always stay the same. 

“Hmm…” Giyuu nodded slowly. “I see. Alright, if that’s your choice, then I’ll help you. We’ll use the reed cages.”

Sanemi smiled, taking Giyuu’s hand in his own. 

“Um…” Tanjiro raised his hand slowly, as if waiting to be called on. Sanemi’s expression dropped into annoyance once more. “...If that’s your problem, why use cages at all?”

“You want me to just let them free around the house?” Sanemi glared. 

“No, no,” Tanjiro waved in defense, “I was just thinking, what about big glass containers? Lady Tamayo grew some special specimens of plants in big jars in her house. I think you could put a beetle in something like that no problem.”

“Oh!” Naho lit up, “Miss Shinobu kept some fish in something like that! It’d be perfect!”

Sanemi blinked, as though he hadn’t considered that. 

“What do you think,” Giyuu nudged him, hands still entwined. “Should we go to the glassblower’s shop tomorrow?”

“Yeah…” Sanemi nodded slowly, “That might actually work.”

Tanjiro beamed. 

They continued picking up beetles and putting back in their proper spots as Sanemi counted them off. Giyuu reached up high and pulled one down from the ceiling, and Tanjiro finally caught the one that had been hitching a ride on the back of his haori.

“They look so healthy.” Tanjiro smiled, looking down as the insect crawled slowly up his hand. “Their shells are so shiny, and they’re not afraid of people at all.” 

“Well yeah,” Sanemi huffed, “They’re used to me. I’ve had some of them for years now.”

Tanjiro glanced over at him, then lightly sniffed at the beetle in his hand.

“What the fuck?” Sanemi pulled a bewildered face. 

“Oh, sorry, I was just checking something,” Tanjiro explained hurriedly, “And I was right. It smells like they trust you a lot.” 

Sanemi blinked. He looked at Genya, who just shrugged. Tanjiro’s nose was never wrong. He was a little surprised Tanjiro could apparently detect the emotions of beetles, but, well. The Sun Pillar had accomplished far greater feats. 

“...Do they really?” Sanemi asked after a moment, his voice almost timid.

Tanjiro’s gaze softened.

“You take really good care of them, Sanemi.”

“Tch. It's nothing.” Sanemi said, though his voice was still low, and it almost looked like the corners of his mouth were turning up in a quiet kind of pride.

A strange energy filled the air between the Sun and Wind Pillars. A kind of psychic, invisible, older-brother-wavelength that only Sanemi and Tanjiro seemed capable of fully tuning into. As the second-eldest, Genya could only pick up a little of it. 

It tasted like approval. Like responsibility. Like pride in those they watched over. Overlapping emotions tasting of salt and iron and flower petals, with a hint of a smoky homemade meal.

Tanjiro smiled at Sanemi. Sanemi’s thin eyebrows scrunched together, but his mouth tightened in a confused grin in return. Genya inhaled, his lungs expanding to a satisfying fullness, then exhaled in a long stream of relief. He knew Tanjiro and Sanemi could find common ground if they could only get along for a moment. 

Beetle by beetle, Genya, Tanjiro, Giyuu, and Naho cleaned up the room. Sanemi fixed the cages, pushing in new sticks where beetles had chewed through or binding up the holes with cloth, and soon enough, everything was back in its proper place. 

“Thanks everyone.” Sanemi said, wiping his hand over his forehead. “I appreciate it. Really.” 

Giyuu put his hand on his shoulder. Sanemi smiled. 

The week passed slowly. Naho and Tanjiro kept training up the Leaf Breathing technique, and by the end of the week she could execute both Sprouting Sapling and Treetop Billow Rush without issue. She promised to keep working hard, and she, Tanjiro, and Genya went to the ice cream stand in the park several more times. Genya was going to miss this once they left. 

“How much do you think it would cost to buy one of those things?” Genya asked, pointing down at the freezer plate in between more bites of watermelon ice cream. 

“I’m not sure,” Tanjiro cocked his head, “But Nezuko and I were talking about getting an electric wire up to our house, so we could maybe power it there at least.” 

Genya nodded in appreciation. There was an idea. He loved living with the Kamados of course, but he had to admit, a lightbulb was much more convenient than a lantern in the middle of the night.

True to his word, Giyuu brought Sanemi to the glass shop, and they purchased several tanks and bowls. They padded the bottom of each terrarium with dirt and leaves and sticks just like the cages, and put wooden lids on top so they couldn’t fly away. They were neat and shiny, and while the cages had a certain rustic quality, even Sanemi had to admit it was a much better solution. 

Genya and Sanemi kept up their samurai game, and Giyuu would sometimes drop in to watch. Tanjiro helped a lot in the kitchen, and he and Genya would take many long walks around the property when Genya felt up to it. 

All in all, it had been a wonderful trip, and Genya was sad to see the week fly by.

“You’ll come and visit again, won’t you?” Sanemi asked as they moved down the hallway, Genya’s briefcase packed and all business taken care of. “The trip isn’t too hard on you, is it?”

Truthfully, he was beginning to feel rather achy again. They’d journeyed here only a few days after his last transformation, so he’d been in the best condition he could possibly be. Now though, well. He was just glad they’d be taking it slow. 

“It’s fine,” Genya grinned, “I’ve been through worse. But you and Giyuu and Naho can come up and visit us on Mount Kumotori any time too, you know.” 

“Heh,” Sanemi rolled his eyes, but smiled. “We’ll see.”

Sanemi opened the door for him. Genya blinked in the bright sunlight. Giyuu and Tanjiro were practicing Water Breathing forms out in the practice yard, while Naho cheered from the sidelines. Sanemi’s eyes softened as he gazed at his partner, and Genya smiled. It was good to see his brother at peace again after all he’d been through. 

“...You told me once that you weren’t a normal person anymore.” Genya started slowly, thinking of that time back in the Demon Slayer Corps cemetery where he and Sanemi had visited the graves of the fallen Pillars after he’d woken up from his coma. Sanemi glanced at him, curious. 

“You said you could never find anyone to love, because you didn’t want to bring all your problems onto someone who didn’t know what you’d been through.” 

“Right…” Sanemi nodded slowly, then gave him a strange look. “Where’s all this sentimentality coming from?”

“I’m just glad you two are there for each other.” Genya looked back out at the training Pillars. “I just want you to be happy.”

“Heh, you don’t have to worry about me, kid.” Sanemi laughed, ruffling Genya’s mohawk. “It’s my job to worry about you.”

“What, I’m not allowed to want my older brother to be with someone who makes him happy?” 

“Fine, fine,” Sanemi rolled his eyes, “I’ll give you a pass, this once.”

Genya smiled, turning his focus out back on Tanjiro. The Sun Pillar really was spectacular, his strikes and blocks and whirling flips as perfect as ever despite his dilapidated condition as he and Giyuu practiced, the sunny smile on his face wide as they paused to talk about technique. 

“And what about you,” Sanemi said softly, following Genya’s gaze. He looked at Genya from the corner of his eye, raising a knowing eyebrow. “Does he make you happy?”

Genya stiffened, hands clenched at his sides. 

Sanemi knew? What the hell. More and more people kept finding out his secret. Was he really so obvious? God and Buddha above, it was a miracle Tanjiro hadn’t discovered the truth himself yet.

“...I don’t know what you mean.” He said after a moment, voice thin and higher than his usual grumble.

“Sure.” Sanemi huffed with a snicker. “Listen. Kamado is still a little shit as far as I’m concerned, but if he makes you happy, that’s all that matters to me. I’ll accept him, so long as he doesn’t piss me off too bad.”

Genya was about to issue a hot retort, but was spared by Tanjiro’s gaze lighting on the pair of them.

“Shinazugawa-San! Giyuu and I were just talking about you!”

“Oh, I’m sure.” Sanemi said, “All good things I hope, Tomioka?”

“That depends.” Giyuu said casually.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means your temper might prevent me from being honest.”

Sanemi bared his teeth in a low growl, but he rolled his eyes and let it pass. 

“Are you two all ready to go then?” Naho asked, hopping up from where she watched the master swordsmen at work. “I packed you some onigiri for lunch!”

“Oh, that’s so kind of you, thank you!” Tanjiro smiled, accepting the bundle she offered, then turning to Genya. “What do you think, are you ready to leave soon?” 

“Ready.” Genya nodded. His suitcase was packed, the Kamado-cloth haori hung from his shoulders and down to just above his knees, and the maple walking stick Sanemi had cut for him was smooth and steady in his right hand. He’d taken to wearing Gyomei’s ojuzu beads around that same wrist, and they dangled down and clacked pleasantly against the wood every now and again as he walked. 

“Travel safe,” Giyuu said, giving Tanjiro the best hug he could manage with only one arm. Tanjiro responded in kind, his left arm dangling uselessly at his side, but he wore a huge smile on his face and his eyes squeezed shut as he embraced the Water Pillar tight with his right. “Send us a crow when you get back.” 

“Don’t do anything stupid.” Sanemi said as he hugged Genya, “Or I’ll kill you.” 

“I know, I know,” Genya rolled his eyes, hugging his brother back. 

“And hey,” Sanemi said, much quieter this time, looking over to Tanjiro with a knowing glance. “Good luck.”

Genya wanted to respond that it was nothing, that Sanemi was wrong and he didn’t know what he was talking about, but Sanemi let him go and Naho bounded up to him instead. 

“Goodbye, Mr. Genya,” She smiled broadly, reaching up as high as she could to wrap her arms under his. “Thank you for believing in me.” 

“Of course.” Genya said, hugging her back for a moment before breaking away and ruffling her hair. “You’re gonna do great things, kid.” 

Naho beamed, and then Tanjiro took his place, scooping the girl up into his right arm and spinning the both of them around as they both laughed. Genya watched with a smile, then was interrupted as he realized Giyuu was staring straight at him. 

Does he… want a hug too? Genya thought awkwardly. It certainly seemed like it. He hadn’t realized the Water Pillar considered him to be so close. 

“Goodbye, Giyuu,” He offered, holding out an arm. Giyuu smiled slightly as if relieved, stepping closer and wrapping his left arm around Genya’s shoulders with a slight squeeze. 

“Goodbye, Genya.” Giyuu said, “And… Thank you. For accepting me. I know it must have been very strange for you, seeing your brother and I together.” 

“Nah,” Genya laughed. He had been surprised in the moment, but looking back on their youth, Sanemi had always been a little different. Genya had never minded. “I’m glad you two are together. ‘Nemi couldn’t have chosen a better partner. I just hope he doesn’t piss you off too badly, I want you to stick around.”

“I can handle Sanemi.” Giyuu said, with what almost sounded like a laugh. “But I’m glad. I hope you and I can become better friends too. You’re important to Sanemi, so you’re important to me.” 

“O-oh.” Genya blinked. “Thank you. That would be nice.” 

Huh. He hadn’t expected to gain two older brothers out of this trip. 

Tanjiro tried for a hug with Sanemi, but Sanemi switched it to a firm handshake instead. Tanjiro didn’t mind, pumping Sanemi’s arm up and down enthusiastically as he jabbered about what a pleasure the trip had been, and how they’d be sure to come back soon. A vein in Sanemi’s forehead twitched, but he grit his teeth and said that Tanjiro had been great company, and that he was welcome back anytime. Tanjiro’s face split in a huge smile. Sanemi looked like he regretted his decision immediately. 

“Goodbye!” Tanjiro waved from the threshold of the garden as he and Genya prepared to set off. “We’ll keep writing, take care everyone!”
Giyuu raised a hand in farewell from where the three of them stood next to the front door of the Wind Estate, and Naho waved excitedly. Sanemi’s arms were crossed over his chest, but he smiled and gave a slight nod to Genya, who waved in return. 

A warm feeling bloomed behind his ribs. It had been good to see his brother. 

“Are you ready to go?” Tanjiro asked, turning to face him. Sunlight danced in his mismatched eyes, and a slight breeze tousled his hair and earrings. The bundle of his luggage and the beautiful wedding kimono for Nezuko was tied snugly around his shoulders, and an excited grin warmed his face.

Genya smiled, his grip on his walking stick tightening. He took one last look back at his brother and the little family he had built, then turned back to Tanjiro.

“Yeah. I’m ready.” 

They left Sakado, then arrived in Hanno about six hours later. Genya wasn’t feeling as up to the journey this time around, and they stopped to rest several times, chatting idly and eating the rice balls Naho had packed.

The town was already starting to feel familiar. Genya bought them ramen at the same restaurant, and they spent the night in the same inn they’d stayed in on their journey a week previous. The playhouse wasn’t showing anything that night, so instead Tanjiro just made Genya recite lines from Shibaraku with him as they lay in the darkness of their room. Neither of them could do a very good job, and soon enough they were both delirious with laughter as they butchered the play together, fading off to sleep as the moon rose high above town. 

The next day passed in a similar manner. They hit the road at about nine in the morning, and traveled at an easy pace through the wide countryside between Hanno and Okutama. Mount Kumotori rose above them, and Genya thought he spotted smoke rising from a high point through the heavy woods. 

“The others will be preparing dinner right about now,” Tanjiro said, following his line of sight. “I can’t wait!”

“Yeah,” Genya agreed, finding himself hungrier than usual as his legs burned with the weight of their sluggish journey. “It’ll be nice to be back in my own bed again too.”

In truth, the bed at the Wind Estate had been more comfortable than the futon he’d been borrowing, unrolled over the Kamado’s hard wooden floor. He often woke up with stiff shoulders and creaky joints, but it was worth it.

His face heated a touch. Tanjiro’s presence wasn’t a fixture of his room at the Wind Estate after all. At the Kamado house, he slept right next to him, every single night. 

They exchanged greetings with the townspeople in Okutama as they passed through the streets, then started the climb up Mount Kumotori. A coolness hung in the air as they rose higher and higher, and the leaves were already turning the crisp colors of fall.

“Hey, Genya?” Tanjiro asked as they passed over a sheer cliff about halfway up the mountain. 

“Hmm?”

“What do you think about… Love?”

Genya almost spilled over the side, splattering on the ground twenty feet below.

“What?” 

“You know,” Tanjiro said almost shyly, swaying his good arm back and forth as he moved a few steps ahead of Genya, as if he was embarrassed. “Like, what Giyuu and Sanemi have.” 

“Oh,” Genya blinked. “Well, as long as they’re happy, I think it’s great. Why?”

Tanjiro didn’t answer for a moment. His feet crunched over the twigs and fallen leaves. When he did speak again, Genya had to strain his ears a bit to hear him.

“Would you ever… I don’t know, want something like that?” 

Genya frowned. Tanjiro was seemingly awfully determined to avoid his eye all of a sudden. What exactly was this about?

“...I don’t know…” Genya started carefully, then looked down. “Besides, I don’t think anyone would want me. Not as I am now.” 

He knew he was ugly. Scarred and beaten and haggard. Something about what Sanemi had said had struck a chord with him too. Genya knew he wasn’t a normal person anymore either, not after everything he’d been through. He couldn’t bring all that baggage onto someone else. At least, not someone who hadn’t been through something similar. 

Sanemi had gotten lucky with his partner. Very lucky. Genya didn’t think he’d have the same good fortune. Not in this lifetime, anyway.

“That’s not true!” Tanjiro’s eyes widened. He whirled on Genya, right hand raised in protest. “Not at all! You’re an amazing person, Genya! Anyone would be lucky to be with you!”

“Right,” Genya rolled his eyes, then raised an eyebrow at his companion. “...Why are you asking?”

“Well, I’ve been thinking…” Tanjiro started. His gaze flicked to Genya for a moment, but his face pinked and he looked back down at the ground again. “About what Giyuu said. About not letting chances like theirs pass them by, since they want to make the most out of the rest of their lives, you know?”

“...Yeah,” Genya said slowly. “I remember.”

A slight frown came to his face. Tanjiro was acting differently than usual. Unsure and hesitant, as if he had a secret. 

…Where exactly was this going?

“Right! And, well…” Tanjiro’s face fell, and he stopped walking. Genya paused a few steps behind him. “I know I don’t have much time left either.”

A prickle of dread spread over Genya, up through his arms and chest, pooling in his hips and knees. The maroon scar on Tanjiro’s head glistened in the light. He swallowed hard.

“So I want to make the most of it. Like Giyuu and Sanemi are doing.” 

Genya’s heart beat like a blacksmith’s hammer as Tanjiro grabbed his hand, his cracked pink and ruby gaze penetrating into his very soul. 

“T-Tanjiro? What-”

“You’re my best friend, Genya.” Tanjiro said, and his eyes practically shimmered as his nice teeth spread in a sunny smile. “I shouldn’t have kept this from you for so long, but I think I’m ready to tell you now.” 

He was keeping something from me? Genya thought, his mind buzzing. What does he mean, he’s ready to tell me? What-

Genya’s eyes widened. A flighty hope awoke in his chest. No. It couldn’t be.

Tanjiro’s hand squeezed his, rough and calloused, but with a quiet tenderness as if he held something precious. Something holy. Genya’s heart hiccuped to the back of his throat. Was this actually happening? 

Tanjiro… did he really feel the same?

“Yes..?” Genya breathed, hardly able to believe that this was real, that he was here, that this was actually happening. 

Tanjiro’s grin split wider. His eyes filled with nothing but love. His face overflowed with pure joy and a giddy, almost nervous excitement. He squeezed Genya’s hand a bit tighter, and finally spoke. 

“I’m going to ask Kanao to marry me.” 

Chapter Text

Genya felt as though he’d been punched. He wobbled, unsteady on his feet even with his walking stick. For a brief moment he thought he might spill over the side of the cliff after all, into the deathly embrace of gravity.

Maybe it would be better to fall… Genya thought, glancing over the edge even as his mind raced. Just to get it over with. 

Tanjiro would never feel the same way. That much was clear to him now. Tears pricked in his eyes, and a wave of horrific nausea washed over him as the Sun Pillar continued a few steps ahead, oblivious.

“I’m so excited,” He said, a giddy lilt coming into his voice as he smiled broadly. “Kanao’s so amazing and beautiful, I’ve been sending her a lot of letters recently, I think she might really like me too. What do you think, Genya?”

He turned to look at him then, and his mismatched gaze grew wide with concern as he realized Genya hadn’t moved, doubled over and clutching his walking stick like it was his only tether to the earth.

“Genya? What’s wrong?” 

“...Nothing.” Genya lied through grit teeth, looking down at the grass. “I’m just… hurting again, that’s all…” 

It wasn’t so much a lie, not really. In his chest, it felt like his heart was being shredded into meaty, worthless chunks. All his love, all his devotion, his entire existence, scattered to dust at the feet of a man who would never think of him the same. He bit back the sob in the back of his throat, the muscles stinging with effort and tears streaming hot and heavy down the sides of his face. 

He ducked his head in shame, but Tanjiro noticed, of course he noticed, and his face dropped in alarm as he rushed to his side. 

“Genya!” He cried, “What’s wrong, where does it hurt, what-”

He raised his right hand in comfort, no doubt to wrap around Genya’s body in an embrace, the kind of support to his shattered core that he knew Genya needed. 

God and Buddha above, if Tanjiro hugged him right now, his fragile heart might explode entirely.

“No!” He shouted, raising his own arm and shielding his face. His voice came out cracky and broken, like the howl of a dying animal. Tanjiro stopped, eyes wide, his hand hovering a few inches above Genya’s shuddering form. 

He didn’t know when he’d sunk to his knees. Curled up into this miserable, weeping ball of a person there on the side of the mountain. He didn’t know what Tanjiro was thinking, but it almost didn’t matter, as only one thought pounded in his mind. 

Tanjiro will never feel the same.

It was over. He’d lost. He hadn’t even realized how much he’d wanted this until it was ripped away from him. Now it felt like hands wrapped tight around his throat. As if his insides had been scooped out, like a gutted fish. Hollow and empty and trembling like a yellowed leaf on the end of a branch, still clinging to the only thing that gave it life, too desperate and afraid to let go and give in to the chill of winter. 

Too afraid to face what came next.

“Stay here,” Tanjiro said, an edge of panic in his voice. “The house is only a quarter mile away, I’ll go run and get your medicine. I’ll bring Nezuko and Inosuke too, they can help carry you back home.” 

“No,” Genya grunted weakly. “No, I’m okay, I just… need a minute.” 

Tanjiro opened his mouth as if to protest, but shut it again after a moment.

“...Alright. Whatever you need.” 

Tanjiro sat down next to him, rustling over the grass. Something in Genya burned. He wished he would just go away, head home without him and let Genya wallow in his misery here on the cliffside. Back to his own life, where Genya didn’t belong. Where he had never belonged, not really. 

He was only visiting, after all. 

The minutes stretched on, but eventually he came to a conclusion. 

Tanjiro had his own life. He just had to accept that. Even if it meant, one day, he would no longer be a part of it. 

“...Sorry.” Genya muttered after a while, finally looking up from his crossed arms. “For yelling. I shouldn’t have. That was… that was pretty rough, is all.”

“Huh?” Tanjiro looked over, “Oh, I don’t mind, I shouldn’t have been pushy. I’m just glad you’re feeling better.” 

He leaned further into Genya’s line of sight. Genya glanced away, despite himself. 

“...You are feeling better, aren’t you?”

“Yeah.” Genya lied. “I’m okay.” 

Tanjiro smiled, that godsent ray of compassion that made Genya almost believe for a moment that his words were true. If only he could bask in that smile all the time.

If only he could stay by Tanjiro’s side. 

Somehow, Genya propped himself back up onto his feet. His walking stick remained smooth and steady in his right hand, and Gyomei’s red ojuzu beads still made their pleasant little clinking sounds as he rose. Somehow, the sun still blazed in the sky, and the world hadn’t been pitched into an endless night. 

Somehow, he knew, Genya would have to put one foot in front of the other. 

Tanjiro was quiet and careful for the next few minutes, keeping a watchful eye on Genya, but as they drew closer and closer to the Kamado house he began a stream of idle chatter that didn’t let up. Talk of Kanao and how well she and Inosuke and Nezuko got along together, and how he was so happy to finally be telling her how he felt, now that they could actually move on with their lives. 

I suppose I’ll be moving in to the Wind Estate after all… Genya thought, a cold, slick feeling creeping through his intestines. Tanjiro wouldn’t want anything to do with him anymore, not with Kanao around. He grit his teeth. He didn’t think he’d want to be there for that anyway. 

“Hey!” A voice called from up ahead. Genya looked up to see Nezuko, waiting at the threshold of the clearing where the Kamado house stood. A wide smile warmed her face, and a pale, bluish-violet robe draped over her shoulders over her usual pink kimono. 

“You’re back! It’s so good to see you!”

“Nezuko!” Tanjiro called happily, speeding up his pace to meet her. “How are you?” 

“Better now that you’re home!” She grinned, stepping forward to catch her brother as he practically tumbled into her arms. “Zenitsu heard you two coming. He’s making the rice right now. How was the trip?”

“So fun! You’ll never guess,” Tanjiro started, then listed off all the things they’d done together. Kabuki theater, ice cream in the park, creating a new breathing technique with Naho, and more. Genya trundled up next to him as he went on, wanting nothing more than to go inside and lay down and dream of a world where Tanjiro wasn’t in love with Kanao, but he knew it’d be polite to greet Nezuko too. 

“And, oh, you won’t believe this,” Tanjiro’s mismatched eyes shone in excitement. “Giyuu and Sanemi are together now!”

“What?” Nezuko’s jaw dropped, and she turned to Genya for confirmation. Genya gave a weak nod. “No way! How did that happen?” 

Sanemi had given them grudging permission to tell the others, since he’d discovered early on that Tanjiro couldn’t keep a secret even if he wanted to. 

“It’s better coming from you than me anyway,” Sanemi had huffed, “Just make sure you don’t go spreading nasty rumors or anything.”

“I would never!” Tanjiro had exclaimed, almost offended. “You can count on me, Shinazugawa-san! I wouldn’t ever betray your trust like that!”

“Hmmf. Good.”

Genya had given his approval too. Sanemi had nothing to worry about. Genya wouldn’t let anyone say a single wrong thing about his big brother. 

“Apparently, Giyuu liked him since he first saw him!” Tanjiro was saying excitedly now. “And he didn’t want to waste any more time.”

“Ah, right.” Nezuko winced. “They both have the mark.” 

For a moment, her petal-pink eyes went up to the maroon scar on her brother’s forehead. Genya’s broken heart clenched. He hadn’t thought about it before.

One day, Nezuko would have to say goodbye to Tanjiro too. 

“Right.” A strange, hazy look came into Tanjiro’s eyes for a moment, but he smiled. “It’s actually really beautiful. I can tell they love each other a lot. But it made me think, I don’t want to waste any time either. I’ve decided I’m going to ask Kanao to marry me.”

Tanjiro bounced up and down on the balls of his feet. A soft, giddy blush warmed his face, and he looked almost like an eager schoolboy. Nezuko’s eyes widened. 

“...You still want to marry her?” 

“With all my heart.” Tanjiro nodded. 

Nezuko flicked her gaze to Genya. A tiny, almost imperceptible emotion flickered across her face, sadness? Sympathy? Regret? It faded before he could place it. 

Genya returned it with a stiff glare. He shouldn’t have, he knew, but he couldn’t help it. 

He didn’t need her pity. 

Nezuko’s eyebrows scrunched a bit tighter together, but she returned her gaze to her brother with a gentle smile.

“I’m so happy for you. I’m sure she’ll accept.” 

“RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!!”

Genya flinched as the war cry filled the air, then relaxed as a boar head catapulted out of the bushes and rammed straight into Tanjiro’s side. Ah, yes. Inosuke was feeling lively this evening. 

“You’re back!” the Beast Pillar cheered from where he had tackled Tanjiro into the grass. “It’s been so long! Fight me!”

“It’s good to see you too, Inosuke.” Tanjiro laughed.

“Tanjiro’s tired right now,” Nezuko rolled her eyes, dragging Inosuke off her brother. “You can fight him later.” 

“Hmmf,” Inosuke huffed, and Genya swore he could see huffs of steam coming out of the nostrils of his boar mask. “You’re right, it wouldn’t be fair. How about you?”

A shiver went down Genya’s spine as the glassy eyes of the boar mask locked onto him instead. He took a step back involuntarily.

“No,” Nezuko grabbed him by the back of his neck before he could fly across the grass and tackle Genya. “You can’t fight him at all, remember?”

Inosuke flailed in frustration, but Nezuko’s grip held strong. 

“Let’s go inside,” She sighed, “Zenitsu has dinner ready.”

Inosuke perked up at the prospect of food, rushing into the house. Tanjiro got to his feet again and dusted himself off. Nezuko linked her arm through his and walked him inside. Genya trudged in after, feet heavy as lead and his heart still in pieces at the bottom of his chest. 

He didn’t eat much. He exchanged a quick greeting with Zenitsu, who hummed happily as he dished out their portions of rice and grilled meat and vegetables, and didn’t say much at all even as the others asked for more details about their trip. He blamed it on his condition and fatigue after the journey, and the others accepted the excuse readily enough. Tanjiro was happy to pick up Genya’s slack in the conversation anyway. 

“That’s amazing!” Zenitsu cheered as Tanjiro shared the news about his plan to propose. “You should write a letter to her tonight, and invite her up to the mountain! We’ll have a party!”

“Kanabo is very strong. She would be good to marry.” Inosuke nodded sagely, before his face split in a wide, gap-toothed grin. “And then Aoi could make the food for the wedding!”

Genya sank a bit lower at his place at the short table at the thought of a wedding. He had no chance. No chance at all. 

“A party sounds nice,” Nezuko said, slipping her hand into Zenitsu’s. A giddy blush warmed the Thunder Pillar’s cheeks, and his eyes went moony with bliss. “...But, Tanjiro, are you sure you’re not rushing into this?” 

“What do you mean?” Tanjiro cocked his head. 

“It’s just… You two are good friends, but you’ve spent so little time together. Love is different than just friendship, you know. What if it’s not what you think it’ll be? What if…” 

Nezuko glanced Genya’s way, locking eyes with him for the briefest of moments before turning back to her brother again. 

“What if Kanao’s not the right one for you?” 

Genya felt his face redden. 

No, Nezuko, please don’t, He thought with a wince. It seemed like she was trying to help, but this would only make things worse.

Tanjiro had made his choice. And it wasn’t Genya. 

“Well then,” Tanjiro said with a dull laugh, “I guess it just isn’t meant to be. Kanao’s the only person who would want to be with a guy like me anyway.” 

Nezuko gave Genya an odd look again, but didn’t say anything. 

“You’re joking.” Zenitsu said flatly, putting his chopsticks down. 

“No, it’s true,” Tanjiro smiled as he looked down at his food, but his eyes had a hollow quality to them. “I don’t have much to offer.” 

“You’re joking!” Zenitsu rose to his feet, his rice bowl spilling over onto its side. Inosuke immediately reached over and shoved a handful of the loose grains into his mouth, his green eyes big with anticipation over a stuffed-cheek grin. 

“Huh? Zenitsu, what-”

“You cannot be serious!” Zenitsu railed, one hand reaching across the table to pinch Tanjiro’s cheek and the other raised in a fist of righteous fury above his head. “You’re a handsome guy! A handsome guy, you hear me? You’re a goddamn war hero too, girls love that kind of thing! And to top it off, you’re rich now! Crazy rich! You could have any girl in the world, so don’t go saying stupid things like that!” 

“Ah, Zenitsu, that hurts!” Tanjiro complained through squinted eyes as Zenitsu’s voice reached near deafening decibels, trying to wriggle out of the Thunder Pillar’s clutches. “Besides, what do you mean rich?” 

“That’s enough now Zenitsu, thank you,” Nezuko said, and Zenitsu immediately released, letting Tanjiro free to rub his sore cheek and turning all his eager attention to Nezuko once again as she lightly patted his head, then turned back to her brother. “But… yeah. Our first Hashira payments from the Ubuyashiki family came in.” 

She nodded to a box high on a shelf that Genya hadn’t seen before. Inside were five packets. Heavy packets, and dense too, if the one on the edge was any indication. It looked addressed to Zenitsu and had already been torn open, the edges of innumerable bills peeking out of the ripped paper. Genya’s eyes widened. 

“We’re not gonna have to worry about money for a while either.” Nezuko laughed. 

Tanjiro’s eyes grew big as he took in the new development. 

“What? No! That’s way too much! We have to send it back!” 

“Send your own back, blockhead!” Zenitsu snapped, jumping up and snatching his from the box, where he held it protectively to his chest. “I earned this!” 

“Panduro said so, so you have to!” Inosuke shouted in glee, leaping over the table and tackling Zenitsu into the floor. 

“AAAAAGH! GET OFF ME YOU SMELLY OAF!!” Zenitsu screeched as he and Inosuke rolled over the ground. Genya winced, putting his hands over his ears. “NEZUKOOOOOO!!!”

“I thought you might say that,” Nezuko said, ignoring the scuffle for the moment as she talked with her brother. “I sent a crow back to Kiriya-sama already telling him that it was too much, much more than we could accept, but he insisted. He says we earned it, after finally ridding the world of that man, and achieving his family’s dream.” 

“Huh…” Tanjiro said, tilting his head to the side. “Well… I guess we can hold onto it. Just in case.” 

He met Genya’s eye, a slight smile coming to his face. 

“Looks like I’ll be able to pay Sanemi back after all.”

The ornate box with the beautiful wedding Kimono for Nezuko was still tucked away in Tanjiro’s luggage, on his usual spot on the floor. Genya gave a weak smile in remembrance of the costly gift, but any thought of weddings was like a thousand weeping spears through his chest. 

Maybe Zenitsu and Nezuko would marry on the same day as Tanjiro and Kanao. 

“Huh?” Nezuko tilted her head to the side. “Pay Sanemi back for what?” 

“Oh, you’ll see,” Tanjiro grinned, “I picked up a surprise for you, that’s all.” 

“A surprise?”

“A surprise?!” Inosuke shot up from where he and Zenitsu wrestled. “Gimme!”

“Alright, alright,” Tanjiro laughed, “I got Nezuko something extra special for later, but in the meantime I do have some gifts for all of you.” 

Tanjiro laughed, then reached into his bag, withdrawing several packages Genya had forgotten about, passing them out to the others. Zenitsu exclaimed in delight upon unwrapping the stylish brown leather shoes, with extra padding on the soles to support his ever-aching feet. Inosuke ripped open the package of salted and seasoned dried meat almost immediately, digging in with relish and a huge grin on his face. Nezuko clapped her hands together with eyes shining with joy as Tanjiro presented her with a hefty bag of colorful konpeito, the hard candies tapping softly together like stones in a riverbank. 

Genya looked on the scene with rising awkwardness. He hadn’t bought his friends anything special on the trip. Tanjiro hadn’t forgotten of course, but he was Tanjiro, the living embodiment of unflinching generosity. Genya could only ever hope to shine half as bright as him. 

At one point, that had seemed possible. Genya had spent his days soaking up the light of the Sun Pillar, and was beginning to glow himself. Like his ruined body and his haggard past and his bristly personality didn’t matter, that he could just be. He knew Tanjiro would accept him as he came, no matter what. It felt like this golden era of companionship and warmth between them would never end. That they would spend their days together, living and laughing and the ache of their old wounds wouldn’t matter, because they were together. 

At one point, it seemed like they always would be. 

Genya spread his futon out early. He closed his eyes and tried to sleep, even as the others excitedly worked on the letter to Kanao together.

“Tell her she has beautiful eyes,” Zenitsu gushed over Tanjiro’s left shoulder. 

“Yes, they are very beautiful,” Nezuko nodded from Tanjiro’s right side. “...But that doesn’t really fit in this sentence.” 

“Tell her she’s so strong,” Inosuke said from where stomped around excitedly on the floor behind them, “and that you’ll give her lots of food so she can get even stronger!”

“Tell her she’s everything you’ve ever wanted, and that you’d even slit your own belly if she asked!” Zenitsu screeched.

“...Maybe don’t say that.” Nezuko winced. 

“Why are you guys shooting down all my good ideas?” Zenitsu huffed, crossing his arms. “I’m the writer here. I know what girls like.”

“It’s cute that you think that.” Nezuko said, but leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek anyway.

“I’m just inviting her over for dinner next week,” Tanjiro laughed as Zenitsu practically melted, “and that I have something I’d like to talk about in person.” 

“Ooh, mysterious,” Nezuko said with a grin, “What do you think Zenitsu, do girls like mystery?” 

“Yes! It’s perfect! You’ll sweep her off her feet in no time!”

Nezuko laughed. Inosuke shouted something about leg sweeping, and then a thud came as Zenitsu hit the floor, along with some indignant yowling from the Thunder Pillar. Genya buried his head deeper into his pillow. 

He’s really gonna do this… He thought, the pieces of his broken heart still somehow working together to pump blood through his veins and arteries, to keep him alive for one miserable second after another. 

Tanjiro was as good as gone. 

The morning came, and with it, a return to their responsibilities. There was wood to chop, food to prepare, cloth to weave, and charcoal to make. 

Genya didn’t rise with the sun like the others. He blamed it on his wound, which pounded like a thrumming drum anyway, but it didn’t compare to the ache in his heart. There was no point anymore. No point at all. 

Tanjiro and Inosuke were working the large kiln with all the wood Inosuke had chopped while they were away, and Zenitsu was picking vegetables in the garden out back since Genya wasn’t up to it. No, it was just the two of them in the house now. The creak of old boards, the distant blaze of a crackling fire, the whistle of wind through the slats in the windows, and the clack of the loom as Nezuko wove the shuttle up and down. 

The Blood Pillar sighed, then stopped her work.

“...I’m sorry.” She said quietly.

“Sorry?” Genya asked after a moment, looking up at her

“About my brother. I… I know this isn’t what you wanted.” 

Nezuko bit her lip, her hands returning to working in a ceaseless rhythm. 

“There’s nothing you could have done.” Genya said, his voice cracked and dull. He wanted to cry. He’d wanted to cry for a long time now, but there was never an opportune moment. Tanjiro would sniff it out in an instant, and Genya would have to come clean to the man that would never love him back. 

“It wasn’t meant to be. I just have to accept that. It was a mistake. I was a mistake. I never should have-” 

“You are not a mistake.” Nezuko put her weaving down, her pink eyes boring into him with all the ferocity of the demon she had once been. “And neither is how you feel.”

Genya blinked, stunned. Nezuko almost seemed angry. 

“Love is never a mistake.” She continued, and he was startled to see tears beginning to pool in her eyes. “That’s what Mitsuri believed, and that’s what I believe too.”

“M-Mitsuri?” He wondered aloud, his frazzled brain latching onto the first thing it could find. What did Lady Kanroji have to do with this?

“She was like a big sister to me.” Nezuko looked down, “Even though I was a demon, and she was a Hashira. She had so much love to give to everyone around her, but she always worried it was too much. She worried it made her odd, that her personality would drive people away and leave her alone like it had in the past, but in the Demon Slayer Corps she was the heart of the cause. Her positivity kept so many people going. A lot of us had our entire lives stolen by demons, you know, and her light was the first warmth many people had felt in a long time.” 

Genya nodded slowly. He’d experienced that side of Lady Kanroji himself, though it had overwhelmed him to no end. It reminded him of a certain other Hashira, one who shone like a kiss of sunlight in the darkest moments. He grit his teeth and swallowed hard. 

“Your love doesn’t make you wrong.” Nezuko continued. “Anyone who says otherwise doesn’t know what they’re talking about. Anyone would be lucky to be loved by you, Genya.”

His lip quivered. His molars ground tight together, scraping like rocks in the back of his mouth. An odd emotion had been building in his chest, frustration mixing with grief and stiffness and an all-encompassing despair. 

It had been building for a long time now. But there wasn’t any room inside him anymore.

“Well what am I supposed to do!” He shouted, and the stinging in his eyes overflowed, dripping hot and fast down his cheeks. “It’s over, Nezuko, it’s over! He doesn’t want me! He never fucking has! I- Gah, fuck!”

He put his hands to his eyes, trying to stem the flowing tears, but he couldn’t, he couldn’t, and the sobs choked up through his throat like a net of briars. 

Nezuko’s feet thudded over the wood floor and she was by his side the next instant, arms around his shoulders and her voice whispering sweet and soft in his ear as she rocked his body gently side to side. 

“It’s okay,” She was saying, her voice low and gentle. “Shh, shhh, it’ll all be okay.”

He blinked in confusion, even through his tears. It had been a long time since he’d been held and comforted like a child. Part of him found it humiliating. 

The other part of him… didn’t hate it.

“I don’t know what’s going on with him…” Nezuko said, and a slight furrow appeared between her eyebrows as she looked out to where Tanjiro and Inosuke worked in the charcoal oven. “It’s just… so strange. I was sure…” 

“You… were sure?” 

Nezuko started to respond, but was cut off as the back door opened, and Zenitsu peeked his head into the room, a basket of fresh-picked vegetables under his arm.

“...Everything okay in here?” He asked. “I heard shouting.”

Genya reddened a touch, pulling the blanket further up around himself. Zenitsu’s ears were almost as good as Tanjiro’s nose. How much had the Thunder Pillar heard, exactly?

“We’re fine,” Nezuko nodded, “Just… old wounds, right Genya?”

“Right…” He nodded meekly, looking away from Zenitsu’s amber gaze.

“Alright, if you say so…” Zenitsu said slowly, then turned to Nezuko, a slight blush warming in his cheeks. “Hey, uh, the fall colors are beautiful on the mountain today, I was going to walk a ways down the trail to the lookout point. Would you like to join me?”

“I’d love to.” Nezuko smiled, taking his hand, before remembering that Genya was next to her. “Oh, um, would you like to come with us?”

“No thanks.” Genya shook his head. He didn’t need to look up to know that Zenitsu was glaring daggers at him for daring to impede on his private time with Nezuko, but the Thunder Pillar needn’t have worried. The last thing Genya wanted was to be third-wheel behind a romantic outing. “You two have fun.”

“Alright, we’ll be back to make dinner in an hour or so.”

“Bye, Genya, hope you feel better.” 

Genya made a defeated grunt of affirmation as the pair left giggling hand in hand through the front door, then sank deeper into his futon.

He should have died a long time ago, he knew. He should have been killed with his siblings when his mother attacked. He should have been killed when he first started hunting demons, and he never should have survived Final Selection. He should have been swallowed by a wooden dragon in the Swordsmith Village, or ground to pulp when he first fell into the infinite demon dimension. 

He should have disintegrated into dust when he’d been cleaved in two on the floor of the demon Kokushibo’s lair, like he was always meant to.

His hands balled into tight fists as the steady ache pulsed through his body with every beat of his heart. This was how the rest of his life would be, he knew. Lonely and painful. 

He should have known better. 

Happy endings weren’t meant for people like Genya.

_____

He counted down the days with a rising, sickened dread. Every day was another day closer to losing Tanjiro for good after all, and he tried to savor the moments like he knew he should, but each time he tried the feeling was overtaken by a sudden sour nausea. It was like trying to catch sunlight in his hands. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t escape his own shadow. 

The morning of Kanao’s arrival came bright and crisp. Tanjiro and Nezuko swept and scrubbed and polished every inch of the Kamado home, and wonderful smells came from the kitchen, where Zenitsu was becoming a better cook by the day, under the Kamado sibling’s guidance of course. Inosuke was tromping out and about through the forest as usual, but would return every hour or so with freshly-made pine garlands or ripe chestnuts or bouquets of the last blossoms of fall. A happy energy hummed through the air, and Genya hated every second of it. 

He sat on the porch most of the day, useless and out of the way. He fetched water from the creek with the pair of buckets hung from a yoke over his shoulder, swept some stray leaves and branches out of the yard, and picked the ripe autumn vegetables from the garden, but those were easy chores. Simple tasks to take his mind off all he was about to lose. 

He was on the porch, absentmindedly rolling a knobby twig between his thumb and forefinger, when an ethereal figure appeared, silent as a petal on the wind. 

Her white cape had been repaired in places with a familiar-looking butterfly haori, the pattern stitched over her right shoulder and down around her left hip. The purple hairpin keeping her dark locks up in a side ponytail shimmered in the sun, and her usual black uniform was replaced with a deep lilac kimono that matched her eyes, though it didn’t cover her tall white boots. Her cherry blossom-colored sword still hung strapped to her side, sharp as ever. The head of the white serpent Kaburamaru slithered up around her left ear where she couldn’t see as well, and the serene smile never left her face. 

Kanao Tsuyuri. The Flower Pillar. 

“Good afternoon.” She greeted in a quiet voice. “It is good to see you again, Genya.” 

He swallowed hard. 

“G-good afternoon.” He returned. He wished he could say it was good to see her too.

He had nothing against Kanao. Not personally. She’d been a good friend to him, and none of this was her fault. No, he had nothing against her, but the serpent of jealousy writhed hot and venomous within him anyway.

God and Buddha above, how he wished things were different. 

“How are you feeling?” She asked, and Genya blinked, before remembering that she had been trained up in medicine as well. 

“...Could be better.” He grumbled. It was true. For many reasons. 

Kanao reached into her pocket and withdrew a bottle of pills, as well as a little pot of medicated ointment. 

“I thought so. Aoi and I have been working on some new formulas. Please, try these out and tell me how they work for you.” 

“...Thank you.” Genya nodded. He would accept the medicine readily enough, and he couldn’t rightly be mad at someone who had given him a relief from his ever-present aches. He only wished the medicine worked on a different type of pain as well.

“Er, uh, how have you been?” He started after a moment, awkwardly. 

“Good.” Kanao nodded slowly, and Kaburamaru flicked his tongue in the air a couple times from her shoulder. “We have been given use of Master Kiriya’s flock of crows, to better deliver medicine to Slayers still recovering from the final battle. Aoi and I are always busy manufacturing pharmaceuticals and testing new drugs, but a lot of the Kakushi have taken up residence with us at the Butterfly Mansion to help with the workload. It’s been very helpful.”

Genya nodded in appreciation. That much made sense. The Ubuyashiki family would do everything they could to ease the burdens of the Corps members, now that the war was won. 

“We’re still teaching Sumi and Kiyo a lot about medicine, but their swordsmanship studies are coming along very well. Kiyo is up to the third form of Flower Breathing, and Sumi is on the fifth form of Water Breathing.”

“That is impressive.” Genya’s eyebrows went up a little. As far as he knew, the other caterpillar triplets were around the same age as Naho. Learning any Breathing Technique that young was a feat in itself.

“Thank you for all your help with Naho.” Kanao said, and a ghost of a more genuine smile flitted across her face for a moment. “She’s been writing to us often from the Wind Estate. We almost couldn’t believe it when she said she was learning a new Breathing style.”

“Oh, I didn’t do much…” Genya ducked his head. That had all been Tanjiro. That would always be Tanjiro, leading, teaching, inspiring. Genya couldn’t do any of that. 

“You did.” Kanao said, looking at Genya with a strange light in her eyes. Her bottom lip trembled for a moment. “You did more than I could. I, I’m not…”

She struggled for a moment, then sighed, her head drooping. 

“I don’t know how to be a good big sister.” 

He blinked, and straightened up a bit. He set the knobby twig aside. 

“Kanae left us too fast. Then Shinobu too. Aoi had younger siblings, so she got on with the three younger ones fine, but I thought I would have more time…” Kanao bit her lip. “I’ve… never been good at families…” 

Genya opened his mouth, then shut it again. He didn’t quite know what to say. 

“I…” He started eventually, “I don’t know if families are something you can be good at. I think they’re something that just happens. As long as everyone tries their best to love each other and get along, it’ll all work out.”

“I am trying…” Kanao looked down. “But I’m worried I made Naho feel like a failure, just because she couldn’t learn Flower or Water breathing. I didn’t mean to. I just wanted them to have a piece of our older sisters so badly, I didn’t realize I was putting so much pressure on her.”

Genya sighed. He couldn’t blame her.

“Your sisters love you a lot, and I know they all look up to you. They just want to make you proud, just like you want to make Kanae and Shinobu proud.” 

“I want that more than anything.” Kanao said, and closed her eyes. Her left hand gripped at the scrap of torn butterfly haori sewn onto the bottom hem of her white cape. “And I want the girls to be happy too.”

“Yeah, see?” Genya smiled wearily. “That’s what being a sibling is all about. The older ones make sure the younger ones turn out okay, and the younger ones want to make the older ones proud of them. It’s the same across all families, whether you’re born into it or not, like you and all your sisters.” 

“I suppose,” She said, then her violet eyes flicked up to meet his. “And like the five of you here, up on this mountain.” 

Genya frowned, a bit taken aback for a moment, but then he realized it was true. When exactly had he started thinking of Inosuke and Zenitsu almost like brothers? When had Nezuko first seemed like a little sister?

It must have been back when he’d first moved in with Tanjiro, he supposed. This was his family after all. It was only natural. He swallowed thickly, the muscles in his jaw bunching as he focused on a spot on the ground a little ways behind the Flower Pillar. 

That was all about to change. 

“Y-yeah. Just like us.”

His heart sank even further as steps came from inside the house. The front door slid open and Tanjiro made an exclamation of delight. 

“Kanao! You made it!” 

“Thank you for inviting me.” The Flower Pillar smiled with a courteous bow. “It’s so nice to see you all again.” 

“Come in, come in!” Tanjiro ushered, “You too, Genya! We’re just about ready for dinner. You must be hungry after your trip!”

“Yes.” Kanao nodded, “I ran most of the way here.” 

Most of the way here? Genya blinked. Kanao was a fast runner. He’d seen so firsthand, during Hashira Training. The Butterfly Mansion wasn’t exactly close to Mount Kumotori either.

“...How long did it take you to get here?” He asked, a little afraid of the answer. 

“Oh,” Kanao tilted her head, “Only about two hours.” 

Genya blinked. Yes, she was a Hashira, no question. 

“Kanao!” Nezuko exclaimed upon seeing her, spreading her arms wide and rushing to wrap her in a warm embrace. “You’re here! How are you?”

“Have you gotten stronger?” Inosuke demanded, prodding her left shoulder, but backing off as Kaburamaru let out a warning hiss. 

Genya trod in after her, taking his place at the short table. He couldn’t look behind him as the others swarmed the Flower Pillar. He’d seen the look on Tanjiro’s face, nervous and hopeful and brimming with joy. He couldn’t look at that again. Not right now. 

Tanjiro took the seat to the left of Genya, as usual. Kanao sat across from him, and Nezuko next to her, across from Genya. Inosuke sat between Kanao and Tanjiro, and Zenitsu sat across from him, between Genya and Nezuko. Zenitsu presented the dishes he’d cooked up, steamed dumplings and stir-fried vegetables and seasoned rice, with yuzu mochi for dessert. He hinged on Nezuko’s every bite, blushing with pride as she exclaimed how good it was, and promising that he’d cook her whatever she wanted, anytime. Inosuke snatched up as much as he could stomach, even occasionally taking from Kanao and Tanjiro’s plates, but they didn’t seem to mind, and carried on in conversation as pleasantly as ever. 

Genya had even less of an appetite than usual. He kept his head down, prodding at grains of rice or the puff of his steam bun with his chopsticks. His heart trembled in his chest as the seconds ticked away, closer and closer to the proposal. Tanjiro sat warm and radiant as ever, the knees of their crossed legs hardly three inches away from each other. 

And somehow, still the furthest thing in the world. 

When the last stories were told and the last jokes were cracked and the last scraps eaten by Inosuke, Tanjiro cleared his throat and sat up straighter. A hush went over the room, and Zenitsu and Inosuke stared between Kanao and Tanjiro with big, knowing smiles. Nezuko gave Genya a fleeting glance, but turned a supportive smile on her brother as well. 

A numbness crept over Genya’s shoulders and down his throat. This was it. No going back now. 

“Thank you so much for coming to visit us, Kanao.” Tanjiro began, a nervous edge to his voice as he straightened the hem of his green and black checkered haori. “I, uh, have something important to ask you, if you’ll let me.” 

“Yes?” Kanao asked as he took her hand across the table, tilting her head slightly to the side. From her shoulder, Kaburamaru seemed to curl closer around her neck.

Tanjiro gave a bashful grin, his nice teeth flashing as he tugged at his collar with his free hand and avoided Kanao’s eye for a moment. 

“Kanao, you’re one of the strongest people I’ve ever known.” Tanjiro said, his voice evening out and gaining strength as he continued. “One of my best friends in the world, too. I would be a demon if not for you, I owe you my life. And so… I’d like to give it to you.” 

“Tanjiro..?” Kanao breathed softly across from him, her eyes widening in understanding. 

“I know I don’t exactly have much to give,” Tanjiro chuckled lightly, looking down, away from the mark on his forehead. “But all that I have is yours. I want to live my life to the fullest, without any regrets. And I want you to be in it.” 

He looked across the table, his eyes radiating warmth and joy. 

“Kanao Tsuyuri, will you marry me?”

The Flower Pillar’s eyes went wide. Her mouth dropped open just a touch, and a kind of tension hitched up in her shoulders. 

“I…” She started, “I…”

She glanced around at the others, and Genya felt his own shoulders jerk up a little as her violet and cracked-periwinkle eyes stared into his for a long moment. Something lingered in her gaze. Fear? Understanding? Concern? He couldn’t tell. He frowned back at her, tilting his head. 

…Why hadn’t she said yes yet?

Something changed in Kanao’s expression, and she looked back at Tanjiro. Slowly, she took her hand from his grasp, staring down at her knuckles as she rested both hands in her lap 

“...I’m sorry. I can’t.” 

“What?” Nezuko gasped, looking between Kanao and her brother.

“Why not?” Inosuke demanded with a huff, slamming a fist down on the table.

Zenitsu didn’t quite say something, but a bout of stricken wailing came from his direction anyway as he shook Nezuko’s shoulder.

The gasp in Genya’s throat didn’t make it past his large canines. He sat, breathless and wide-eyed and dumbfounded, a slow bewilderment crawling up through every blood vessel in his body. 

Really? 

Really? 

Kanao didn’t want to marry Tanjiro? 

It had been such a perfect match in his head, he hadn’t even considered the possibility. It seemed too good to be true. 

No, it was too good to be true, it was a goddamn miracle. For the first time all week, something almost like hope flickered to life in his chest. The corners of his mouth fought to turn up, and he risked a glance at the Sun Pillar’s face.

Tanjiro had gone a shocked shade of pale, his mouth slightly open and his eyes wide in surprise, just as Kanao had been only a few moments ago. His worn, calloused right hand still lingered in the air. Slowly, he brought it back down to his side, where it rested on the hem of his haori. He closed his mouth, waiting for Kanao to continue.

Guilt stabbed Genya then, and any joy he’d felt at the announcement was quickly snuffed out. Even though it would have killed Genya, marrying Kanao would have made Tanjiro happy. Now, this… well. Genya didn’t rightly know what to expect. But he would be by Tanjiro’s side, no matter what. 

“I’m sorry.” Kanao repeated with a shake of her head, her eyes squeezed shut. “Tanjiro, I like you, I really do, but, but… I can’t.”

Nezuko hushed Zenitsu and waved for Inosuke to settle down too, and together, Blood, Thunder, Beast, and Moon turned to Flower. 

Tanjiro looked up last of all, his shoulders hunched a little closer to his ears and his chin tucked to his chest as he looked up at Kanao through his top lashes, a look of embarrassment plain across his face. 

“...Why not?” He asked after a moment. 

Kanao took a deep breath, then shook her head and set her hands firmer on her legs, looking down at her plate. 

“I don’t think that life is for me. At least, not yet. I still have a lot of work left to do.” 

She looked up, a strange, determined fervor blazing in her violet eyes. 

“All over the country, hundreds of Kakushi and Corps members are still recovering. Some of them will be in pain for the rest of their lives.”

Her eyes flicked to Genya for a moment. He glanced down at his own plate, the tips of his ears burning. 

“Aoi and I have been working hard, but even with the girls and all the Kakushi to help us now, we’re still nowhere as skilled as Shinobu was. She still had so much to teach us. There’s so much to do, you wouldn’t believe it. We’re looking through her notes and books and learning as fast as we can, but it’s not the same without her there.”

Kanao took a breath, then met Tanjiro’s eye again. A sensitive kind of sorrow lingered in her eyes, but her voice was strong.

“So, I’m sorry Tanjiro, but I can’t marry you. I have my sister’s legacy to uphold. They never turned anyone away, no matter how severe their injuries were, and they saved more lives than I could count. They helped people recover and live long, happy lives. I want to be like them too. I can’t let myself get distracted by a husband and children and let all their work fall by the wayside. The war is over, but I still have a lot of work to do.” 

Nobody said anything, looking between Kanao and Tanjiro with wide, anxious eyes. Genya had never seen a proposal in person before, let alone one that was rejected, and had no idea what was supposed to happen next as he looked at the man next to him. A strange new expression had come into Tanjiro’s face, unreadable and mute.

“When she was alive…” Kanao continued, looking down at her hands again. “Kanae always wanted to open the Butterfly Mansion as a hospital to regular people as well. Shinobu disagreed and said we had to keep our resources on the war effort, and Kanae agreed with her, but now that the war is over, maybe we can finally make Kanae’s dream come true too. I want that more than anything. I want to help people, as much as I can.”

Tanjiro broke away, looking down at his lap. His face was hidden, but his shoulders began to shake, and Genya wasn’t surprised when the first tears fell, glimmering in the light before splashing onto the backs of his hands. A sick feeling twisted in his gut.

But when Tanjiro looked up again, he was smiling. No sorrow lingered in his eyes, or the corners of his mouth, or even in the lilt of his voice as he began to speak. 

“That’s the greatest idea I’ve ever heard.” 

Kanao’s eyes widened in surprise. Nezuko and Zenitsu exchanged a befuddled glance, scooting closer together before turning back as the scene unfolded.

“You… You aren’t upset?” Kanao asked, almost timidly.

“How could I be?” Tanjiro said, and his eyes gleamed with warmth and understanding even as tears leaked from their corners. “Kanao… You listened to your heart.” 

The Flower Pillar’s two-toned eyes shot open and she sucked in a quiet gasp, as if she was reminded of something from long ago. Her expression settled back down after a moment, and she beamed at Tanjiro as the corners of her eyes crinkled. 

“I’m so proud of you. And I completely understand. You’re going to make a fantastic doctor, Kanao.”

“Thank you, Tanjiro.” Kanao bowed her head, though still smiled broadly as she looked back up again. “...We can still be friends, can’t we?”

“Of course!” Tanjiro exclaimed, wiping his eyes as his familiar cheery smile returned. “No harm done at all, I only wish I’d known what your plans were sooner.” 

Tanjiro laughed, and Kanao joined in with a polite hand over her mouth. Genya gave an awkward chuckle, glancing at Nezuko, who still looked just as confused as he felt. Zenitsu looked between them hesitantly. Inosuke looked bored. 

“So… You’re not getting married?” He asked, slouching over his plate.

“Er, no.” Tanjiro said, scratching the back of his head with a bit of embarrassment. “It doesn’t look like it. But we’ll always be great friends.” 

“Always.” Kanao said, nodding her head with a slight smile. 

“Ughhh,” Inosuke complained, rolling his head back and kicking the table hard enough to make the plates rattle. “But Aoi was gonna cook! When am I gonna have her food again?”

“Well…” Zenitsu spoke up, eyes flicking nervously around the room. “I don’t want to steal Tanjiro’s thunder, but I may have an idea…” 

His amber gaze landed on Tanjiro with a kind of hopeful urgency. Tanjiro looked confused for a moment before understanding bloomed in his ruby and cracked-pink eyes. He nodded discreetly, a smile coming over his face as he turned to his sister. 

Nezuko looked confused as all the attention in the room turned to her instead, but her eyes grew as large as the moon and her jaw dropped in shock as Zenitsu rose, then dropped to one knee, taking her hand in his as he faced her. 

“Nezuko, from the moment I saw you, I knew I would do anything to make you happy.” Zenitsu started, and in an instant Nezuko’s eyes were brimming with tears as a broad smile warmed her face, her hand grasping tight around his as she positively radiated glee. Genya had a feeling this proposal would go much better than Tanjiro’s.

“You’re the reason I’m excited to wake up in the morning, and I know I don’t have to be scared of anything anymore with you by my side. You make the sun shine brighter just by being in it. You make me feel like I’m worthy of love. You are the most important person in the world to me, and you make me want to be a better person every day. I know I still have a little growing up to do, but…” 

Zenitsu reached into his pocket, and produced a silver ring with a pearly pink gemstone, offset by two little white diamonds cut in triangles. Nezuko gasped in awestruck bliss. 

“Nezuko Kamado, will you marry me?”

“Yes!” Nezuko exclaimed, then flung herself into his arms.

Inosuke cheered wildly, and Kanao clapped and laughed. Genya gave a few chuckles and slow claps, grinning in spite of himself as the happy couple kissed, and Zenitsu slid the ring onto Nezuko’s finger. She held it up to the light, admiring the way it sparkled, and didn’t even see Tanjiro until he was a few steps behind her, the beautiful wedding kimono they had bought in Sakado bundled in his arms.. 

“Congratulations.” He said in a low voice, a soft smile on his face and his eyes brimming with pride as he held it wide open for her to see. 

Nezuko’s jaw dropped, and her eyes went even wider than they’d been when Zenitsu had proposed, though Genya guessed she must have suspected something like that was coming for a while. The wedding kimono had been a complete surprise. The Thunder Pillar himself looked a little miffed at being upstaged, but his eyes softened as he saw how happy his fiancee was. 

“This…” Nezuko started, running a hand down the unbelievably soft silk and gathering the embroidered hem in her hands for a moment, before looking back up at her brother. “This is for me?” 

“All yours.” Tanjiro grinned softly, looking down at her with nothing but love. “Surprise.” 

Her own pink kimono hung rough and tattered over her shoulders. Genya glanced around the little home quickly, and was reminded once again of just how poor the Kamado’s had been. This was likely the finest garment Nezuko had ever touched. Maybe even seen. He remembered Naho’s exclamations of delight in the shop when they’d first purchased it, saying that Nezuko would look just like a princess. He agreed wholeheartedly. She was already beautiful, but in this kimono she would look like a celestial spirit down on earth. He grinned in spite of himself. Zenitsu would probably pass out from sheer joy at the wedding, if the sight didn’t kill him completely.

Nezuko held the silk closer to her chest as if she couldn’t believe it, then stepped forward and wrapped her brother in her arms, the kimono between them as she cried into his shoulder. 

“You’re going to be beautiful.” Tanjiro smiled, gently stroking her hair with his good right arm as she mumbled incoherently between sobs of joy. “I only wish the rest of our family could see it.” 

He looked out the window, where the graves of their departed family soaked up the tiny droplets of rain that were beginning to fall as the sun set. A wistful quality came into his expression, and he hugged Nezuko a bit tighter for a moment before letting her go, hand coming down to just above her elbow as she clutched the kimono to her chest. 

Since the party was already prepared, it was no trouble at all to switch the focus to the happy new couple. They passed the hours in comfortable camaraderie, discussing wedding plans and toasting Zenitsu and Nezuko with some special rice wine that Tanjiro kept on a high shelf. Genya abstained from the alcohol, (his father had given him enough of a distaste for the stuff to last a lifetime,) and noticed that Kanao did too. Whether for a similar reason or not he didn’t know, but he’d never been one to pry. He stood next to her in solidarity and watched as their friends became just a bit more flushed and giddy, speaking at slightly higher volumes than usual. Just a buzz, he was sure, to keep the good mood going. It wasn’t like they would get so plastered that he would have to scrape Inosuke off the roof in the morning.

Well, probably not. Genya could never be sure with that one. 

Kanao beat Inosuke in a leg wrestle, and then again in a race around the Kamado property, but he got her in a tug-of-war game with a stick as the others cheered from the sidelines. The Flower Pillar didn’t seem to mind, laughing in good spirits and rising to every challenge Inosuke offered. Zenitsu and Nezuko privately went out to the graves, to pay their respects to their parents and tell them the good news, pouring a generous cupful of sake over the graves of Kie and Tanjuro each. Tanjiro watched from the window, a bittersweet smile on his face. 

Kanao gave everyone a thorough checkup, listening intently to all their aches and pains and making notes in a little notepad, promising to send them some medicine by crow as soon as she got back. Which, as it turned out, would be sooner than any of them expected. 

“You’re leaving already?” Nezuko asked as Kanao buckled her sword to her belt by the door. 

“Oh, um… yes…” Kanao said, looking down before meeting Nezuko’s eye. “...Is that okay?”

“I mean,” Nezuko blinked. “I guess so? But you’re totally free to stay the night with us if you’d like.”

“Yes!” Inosuke bellowed, sitting up straight from where he’d collapsed over Zenitsu’s futon. “You owe me a rematch!”

“For which one?” Zenitsu muttered. 

“All of them!” Inosuke waved his arms. 

“I will, don’t worry.” Kanao laughed. “But you know, you should come visit the Butterfly Mansion, we can have our rematch there. I know Aoi would be happy to see you, and you can come with us to visit Shinobu’s grave.”