Chapter Text
The first time Nezuko saw the threads was when she was eight years old. It was the time of the year when snow formed a thick blanket over everything, and a chill settled deep into her bones, no matter how many layers her mother wrapped her in. Their father always had a slight rattle in his chest whenever he breathed. As the temperature continued to plummet, the rattle in his chest became louder and louder, wetter and wetter, until taking in lungfuls of air was a chore. The skin on his cheeks tightened until it stretched thin over his bones. Sometimes, Nezuko could see a flash of red in the corners of her vision. Soon enough, her father started coughing. He tried to hide it, but wracking coughs that sprayed blood tended to stain.
Nezuko could make out faint, glistening lines of red by then.
They tried to get him down the mountain, but five minutes in the cold and he was vomiting up blood. Tanjirou ran down the mountain to fetch the village doctor. The doctor left them with an apology and an almost empty coin jar.
A sense of finality hung in the air, overbearing and inescapable.
The lines filled in.
She could See the red threads woven together to form a tapestry. Nezuko could See fibres of bright red that were twining together to form the beginning of threads that led towards her mother's swollen belly. Her wonder at this sight was soon forgotten when she saw threads that were blackened and fraying, on the verge of snapping. Threads that all led back to her father.
"Father is going to die in three weeks, isn't he, mother?" Nezuko whispered one night, her head on her mother's lap. They were sat in front of the fireplace. The fire burned bright, its searing heat temporarily chased away the chill that had crept into their house.
"The doctor said two months at least, Nezuko. You shouldn't worry about things like this." Her mother's fingers ran gently through her hair as a blizzard raged outside the walls of their wooden cabin.
"Mother, I can see them."
Her mother hummed, "See what, Nezuko?"
Nezuko clutched at her mother's kimono, "The red strings, mother. I can see them."
Her mother's hand stopped stroking Nezuko's hair, "It's not nice to lie to your mother like this, Nezuko."
"I can really see them mother! I can see yours and I can see father's! Yours are bright red and I can see my little brother's forming too!" Nezuko stared at the noticeable bump of her mother's stomach.
"Little brother?" Her mother raised an eyebrow, "How do you know you're going to have a little brother?"
"Sometimes when I touch the strings, I know things." Just like how Nezuko knew the reason why the shadows underneath her mother’s eyes continued to deepen was because her mother stayed up at night, sewing kimono after kimono until the faint, flickering candlelight faded into the soft, morning light of winter. Even though her mother wasn't the one who was ill, her cheeks too, became sunken. All this so they could afford her father's medicine that seemed to do nothing to slow the rot in his lungs.
Two weeks later, her mother gave birth to Nezuko's youngest brother, Rokuta. There was no midwife around to help their birth, they simply couldn't afford one. Instead, Tanjirou took the kitchen knife and sliced the umbilical cord while Nezuko pulled it taut.
Nezuko brought their youngest brother to their father. He'd been bed bound for the past week. There was no strength to stand when his body was made of nothing but brittle bones and skin.
Her father cracked open his eyelids as Nezuko leant down to place Rokuta into his arms. A skeletal hand stroked the baby's head, her father's cracked lips stretched into a smile.
Nezuko knelt by his futon, content to watch her father gaze at Rokuta with shining eyes.
She noticed her father's arms quivering from the weight of the infant, "If your arms are getting tired, I can hold him beside you, father, so you can still see him. The doctor said you shouldn't strain yourself."
"Nezuko…" His voice was but a mere whisper, barely heard above the breeze that rattled at the walls of their house, "Have I ever told you how proud I am of you?"
He had. Many times. When she'd come home with a bruise from aiming a kick at a bigger boy who had been throwing rocks at Takeo, he had said that he was proud of her. Proud that she had stood up for her brother, even if it meant that she got hurt. He had pat her shoulder, offering her a grin, even under the disapproving glare of her mother, who later gave her a long lecture about her behaviour.
"My little petal, with the sweetest, strongest heart. Don't ever change." He said, "Promise me you won't let anyone beat the kindness out of your heart."
She spent her ninth birthday beside her father's futon, staring at his gaunt face. She wanted to commit his face to memory, but it was hard to see when her vision was blurred by tears. All but one of his threads had broken. The last one was hanging on by a single fibre.
The fibre was dripping with a viscous black sludge that weighed it down until it was far too taut.
She hated the feeling of helplessness as she knelt before his unconscious form. She had tried, countless times before, to try and save his threads. She had placed her hands on top of them, trying to channel something, anything , to stop the spread of black. All she got was the feeling of regret, frustration, sorrow and the sensation of drowning with the constant taste of blood lingering at the back of her throat. She was nothing but an observer, powerless to stop the corrosive rot on his threads.
She saw the moment the last fibre gave out.
The moment her father's chest stuttered with his final breath.
Outside, the snow continued to fall.
Nezuko squeezed her eyes shut. She wanted her father back. She wanted her father to tell her that everything would be alright. She wanted to hear his warm laugh, like the one he let out when he saw her clumsy first attempts at embroidery. His face was meant to be lively and full of light, not cold and still.
Nezuko heard the clatter of wood falling onto the ground and quick footsteps before she was engulfed in a tight hug.
She turned her head, burying her face into the thick fabric of Tanjirou's haori. He stroked her hair with one hand, the other hand clutched at her arm.
"Father said that I had to be strong for everyone. That I have to protect everyone because now… I'm the oldest-" Tanjirou's voice wobbled, his vocal chords refusing to let any more sounds out.
Teardrops splattered on her face.
A sob clawed its way up Nezuko's throat. She pressed her face harder into his kimono, trying to muffle the ugly sounds of grief.
I'm the oldest daughter, I have to be strong as well. I'll help you, brother. It's what he would have wanted.
Three weeks after Nezuko predicted his death, Kamado Tanjurou passed away. Her mother never made any more mention of Nezuko's ability.
They buried his body under a pine tree. When the leaves of other trees browned and withered, pine trees never lost their green. Even through the cruelest winds of autumn and the harshest frost of winter, they endured.
The Kamado family too, endured the years that followed this loss.
"Mother! Where's the spare sewing kit?" Nezuko said, rummaging through the cupboard, "I need it in case the bride wants something changed or fixed!"
"One second, Nezuko." Her mother called.
Hanako padded into the room, the box of needles and threads in her hands, "Here it is! It was in mother's room."
Nezuko took the box and put it into her basket, "Thank you, Hanako!"
"Can I come with you, sister?" Hanako said, hands clasped, looking at Nezuko with wide eyes.
"Mother has a lot of housework to do today and she can't do it all by herself." Nezuko reminded Hanako.
Hanako looked down at her hands, "I see."
"I'm sorry, Hanako." Nezuko placed her hand on Hanako's shoulder.
Hanako said nothing and just nodded.
Nezuko could never bear seeing Hanako look so downcast. She always had a soft spot for Hanako.
"How about this, I'll make sure to bring something back for you, yes? And next time brother goes down to sell charcoal, I'll ask mother if you can go with him?"
Hanako straightened up and beamed.
"There it is, there's that beautiful smile of yours." Nezuko pat Hanako's head and made her way around Hanako to go to the kitchen, "Mother! Don't worry, Hanako found the sewing kit."
"Sister!" Rokuta ran into Nezuko, his small body wracking with giggles, "Can I please come with you?"
Nezuko grinned, "You're too young, Rokuta."
"But you and brother went to town when you were my age!" Rokuta peered up at her from under his bowl cut.
"That's because we went with mother and father. Who's going to make sure you don't get into trouble when I'm doing business with the bride?"
Rokuta pouted at her, his baby-fat filled cheeks bulging out comically.
Nezuko cooed at him and ruffled his hair, "Don't look at me like that, I'll ask mother when we can all go down together, okay?"
"Nezuko!" Her mother wiped her hands on her apron and pressed the bento into Nezuko's hands. "Are you warm enough? It's getting even colder now. Don't want you to get sick."
"Thank you, mother! And don't worry, I'm very warm." Nezuko smiled at her mother, putting her bento into her basket on top of the sewing kit and kimono.
"Okay, come here." Her mother held out her arms.
Nezuko hugged her mother, feeling her mother's warmth surround her.
"Stay safe, okay?" Her mother rubbed her back.
"I will, don't worry, mother." Nezuko squeezed her arms tighter around her mother.
Her mother pulled away and pushed Nezuko towards the door, "Now go, you don't want to be late for the bride, yes?"
"Don't worry, mother. I'm a fast walker."
"Well, I can't help but worry about you sometimes, Nezuko." Her mother murmured.
Nezuko stepped out into the cold, the sunlight reflecting off the snow temporarily blinded her.
"Nezuko!" Tanjirou called out, walking towards her. "Are you going now?"
"I am! Make sure you take care of our siblings while I'm gone, okay?"
He dusted off his hands on his haori and poked her forehead, "I always take care of them, including you too. I'm the eldest, remember?"
Nezuko pushed his hand away, "Sometimes I feel like I'm taking care of you! You always rip your clothes and ask me to fix it so mother won’t get angry at you."
Tanjirou grinned at her and reached up to rub the back of his head, "Ah, sorry about that, I can't help it, I promise!"
"Sister!" Takeo and Shigeru shouted, running towards her.
"Don't forget to say bye to us!" Shigeru shouted.
Nezuko laughed, "I would never forget about you two."
"Make sure you stay safe!" Takeo said.
"You're so sweet, worrying about your older sister like this." Nezuko ruffled Takeo's head, making his hair even messier than it usually was.
He scowled and batted her hand away.
"Sister!" She heard Hanako shout before Hanako barrelled into her and wrapped her tiny arms around Nezuko, "Goodbye!"
Rokuta ran out of their cottage and joined the hug, soon followed by Shigeru.
Nezuko wrapped her arms around the three of them, "You guys are too much, it's not like I'm never going to see you guys again, I'm only going to town for the day."
"But we'll miss you!" Rokuta said.
"And I'll miss you all too, but I really have to go now, or else I'll be late handing the kimono to the bride." Nezuko said, disentangling herself from them.
Her mother walked outside and waved to her.
"Goodbye!" Nezuko shouted as she walked away from her house, waving her hands at her family.
The bride had been ecstatic with the cut of the kimono and the colourful embroidery that decorated it, and tipped Nezuko extra for her work.
Under the welcoming heat of the afternoon sun, Nezuko went to the stalls in the village to browse for trinkets that she could take home for her family.
A clip that had a set of pretty bells and flowers dangling from a string was displayed in a shop. It would look pretty on Hanako. When she shook them, they sounded just like Hanako's tinkling laughter. Nezuko purchased the trinket. Hanako loved pretty things, she would love Nezuko's gift.
As she was about to leave the village with a smile on her face and a heavy bag of coins in her basket, a harried voice shouted her name.
Nezuko turned around, the bride's mother was briskly walking towards her.
"Nezuko! Thank the gods you haven't left yet, I thought I was going to miss you!"
"Hello, Mrs Hirabayashi. What can I do for you?" Nezuko smiled.
"I'm terribly sorry to bother you, but my daughter is honestly so clumsy and accidentally tore the edge of her kimono and we can't have her looking shabby on her wedding day! Could you please fix it?"
"Mrs Hirabayashi, with all due respect, I should be returning before sundown to my home, so I can’t do this. It’s only a tear, surely someone else could fix it?"
"Nezuko, I would trust no-one else apart from you to be able to fix it properly."
Seeing hesitation displayed clear on Nezuko's face, the woman continued, "We would pay you handsomely for your services and we would be happy to welcome you as a guest in our house overnight, if it is unsafe for you to return that late."
Extra money was never unwelcome in the Kamado family, so with that thought on her mind, Nezuko agreed.
She fixed the bride's kimono and next morning, set towards her house with another heavy bag of coins inside her basket.
The sprinkling of snow and the sharp drop in temperature couldn't dull her good mood. Her family would be eating well and she couldn't wait to see the look on Hanako's face when she handed her the pretty trinket.
As she drew closer to her house, fiddling with Hanako's bells, she could pick out the scent of copper and the absence of threads that should have waved, proud and red.
She dropped the basket on her arm and sprinted towards her house, clutching Hanako's bells tightly.