Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Move.  

He needed to move. 

Obanai knew, clearer than he’d known anything ever before, that if he stopped now, he would die.  

Move  

Vision blurry, chest heaving, and hair matted against his skull, the snake pillar reached out blindly for the nearest object. Hand pressing down on a tree, he staggered; slick fingers smearing blood across the bark. 

He breathed. 

Nothing had gone right on this mission. It hadn’t been simple, the demons – the demons had been more than he’d been led to believe, and for some messed up reason... the humans, they had worshipped them. Willing to die and even kill him to protect their masters. 

The situation was tricky, but – Obanai was a demon slayer. It was his job to protect these people, to save them, to avenge them, but – they'd poisoned him...Hurt him to save their masters, protect them – and yet, he’d tried, he’d tried so damn hard. 

Kids, there had been kids there. So, he fought, and he bled and he’d won. But at what cost? 

“I need to thank Kochou ,’ he thought absentmindedly; vision slowly clearing as the detoxing agent started to take effect. If it hadn’t been for his follow slayer,  Obanai  was sure he’d be dead by now.‘I’ll take over her training duties for a week,’ he decided. Still- 

Outside of the poison, he was gravely injured; his leg leaving a bloody track behind it where he was dragging it behind him as he was slowly inching his way out of the forest.  

If Obanai didn’t get some semblance of rest soon, he would most likely not make it. Thankfully; even if he was far away from any rest station, he recognized this area. The former thunder pillar lived around these parts, and Obanai was sure the old man would have the grace to put up with him for a while. So- 

With that in mind, he inched his way towards the only destination he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, would keep him alive. 

What he saw when he arrived at the edge of the cliff however. 

-Blood-  

-Death-  

-Carnage-  

There was something to be said about getting used to things. After a while of experiencing certain situations, a person-through time-will get used to those types of situations. Will not flinch when faced with them again and will move forward with a level head and a calm exterior, but – Obanai's stomach lurched. 

Sometimes, certain situations just catch you of guard. 

When safety – the very concept of safety, is flipped on its head... One finds themselves unsteady on their feet. Unsure, scared, and although Obanai Iguro is a pillar, and had been a demon slayer for even longer, for a split second, for a moment – His fingers twitched, his legs shook, and his face pinched into an expression of utter grief. 

He remembered the old man well. 

He had a certain laugh. 

A frame shaking, stomach holding, belching of a laughter. It had been annoying, it had been warm. 

Scanning the village bellow with two different eyes, Obanai furrowed his brows. The old man was dead. He wouldn’t - if he was still alive, if he... These people would still be breathing if – if he was still alive, the old man wouldn’t have let this happen. 

He was dead. 

He’d retired, and he was still dead. 

It left a sickening feeling in Obanai’s stomach. A sort of disconnecting pain that he hadn’t felt for a very long time. A sort of burning feeling under his skin that made him- 

Lifting a finger, he gently patted the slithering snake around his neck. “Let’s check for survivors,” he muttered. 

Kaburamaru hissed softly at him. It was as much of a comfort to Obanai as anything. His lips twitched. “Thank you.” 

Making his way down the mountainside was difficult and painful, but without a single sound leaving past his lips; only the echoes of his labored breathing greeting the wind, Obanai made his way down the rocky paths, slowly but surely. 

When his feet finally met solid ground, he raised his face to the sky, and closed his eyes. His shoulder ached, his leg burned, and his ribs creaked, but – he only gave himself a second to breathe, before he put one foot in front of the other and started moving forward. 

Nothing and no one.  

Every single life in front of him had been snuffed out. He couldn’t count how many times he’d kneeled down; leg screaming in agony, and checked for a pulse on the least ravaged bodies around him, but- 

Nothing. 

Kaburamu hissed again. Obanai patted him. “It seems they’re all gone, old friend.” The snake didn’t say anything else, and Obanai continued on his journey. Towards the small cabin squashed between two enclosed training grounds.  

The old man was probably dead, but – He wanted to see it for himself. See what was left of him. 

When his feet finally came to a stop in front of the broken down door, he saw the kid first.  

Sobbing and hunched over, all Obanai could do in that very instant, was stare. He hadn’t sensed him; probably the poison; while weak now it was still coursing through his veins, but...There was someone alive here.  Yes, the old man... the old man was dead (The snake pillar could clearly make out the twisted white hair and the jagged scar from where he stood), but, someone had survived the massacre. Someone was still alive. 

A crying, unharmed, sobbing boy. 

And he held a sword between his fingers. Fingers that were clutching at the hem of the dead man’s haori. 

Obanai took a step forward. The kid tensed; noise suddenly dying in his throat. Obanai took another, and then another, until he was standing across from the blonde child.  

The kid had yet to move, but – his fingers were now gripping firmly at the hilt of his sword.  

Good 

At least he wasn’t completely hopeless. 

Dropping down on his knees; ignoring the pulsing pain temporarily, Obanai placed both hands on his legs and sighed. “He is dead. They are all dead, so what happened here, demon slayer?” 

The kid’s head shot up, and through his glassy stare and wobbling bottom lip, the snake pillar saw something. 

A burning rage, a reckless glint and a thirst for vengeance. 

Obanai’s skin crawled and his mouth tasted like ash.  

It seemed, no matter how many battles they fought, he fought, tragedies would always strike someone down. 

“Are you a demon slayer?” 

The question was hesitant, wary, scared. 

Obanai glared. “I am a pillar, brat. Show some respect and answer my question.” 

The kid’s shoulders tensed for a second, before they sunk into themselves and the crying boy lowered his head. “I wasn’t here,” he muttered; one hand coming up to run shaking fingers over the old man’s face. “But a demon did this. She did this. Gra-Master told me. Before he... Before he-” 

A sob. 

The snake pillar stilled.  

“A demon? Singular?” 

The kid nodded again. “Just one.” 

Just one. 

One demon. 

One demon killed a former pillar and an entire village so fast that some of the victims' bodies were still warm. Still bleeding out. 

Obanai swallowed. 

A single demon. 

“An upper moon,” he breathed.  

The kid’s eyes grew sharp. “What does that mean,” he blurted; fingers still resting on what remained of the old man’s face. “That’s what gram...master said too. What does it mean!” 

The demon slayer frowned. “It means you better start talking brat. What happened?” 

Chapter Text

The dull throbbing of his right leg was screaming in unbearable pain by the time the kid stumbled through his tear-filled explanation, but thankfully he hadn’t minced any words, and Obanai got the general gist of the whole situation. 

Scowling, he shifted in place; carefully keeping his face blank. “So, this attack was targeted?” The kid nodded. Face now dry, but eyes still red rimmed. His fingers had made their way down the old man’s frame and where now clutching at his cold hand. 

“Master said that to me. Before he di– he said that she had come here deliberately. To kill us all. I... I should’ve” His face pinched and his eyes teared up again. “I should have been here.” Blinking once then twice, the kid’s whole body shook with grief. “I should have been here. Then maybe, senpai–master... I-” 

“Stop crying. It’s too late for that.” Obanai hadn’t meant the words to come out as harsh as they did, but the teen still flinched back, and the snake pillar grimaced at his own tone. “I didn’t mean that,” he huffed. “But you need to get yourself together. Why do you think Kuwajima-san was targeted? Why this village? Do any of you possess something that an upper moon would desire?” The kid softly murmured in the negative. 

“Think brat!” 

Another shake of the head. The pillar sighed. The kid was clearly too distressed to think with any efficiency right now. And it was best they started to move before the sun began to set, but-he couldn’t leave before- 

Lifting himself back up to his feet with some effort, he pressed down on his neck and breathed slowly. “Get up brat, we have work to do.” The kid blinked up at him in surprise. Old tears trickling down his cheeks at the action. 

“We? What are we supposed to do? Everyone is already dead!” With each world his voice rose up an octave. Obanai glared him into an abrupt silence. 

“We are going to bury the dead. Now get up and find me a shovel.” The teen sprang up to his feet at the commanding tone and scrambled out of the tiny house; trying very hard not to look back down on his master. 

The snake pillar sighed again. He knew the cleanup crew would eventually get here and it wouldn’t be a problem if they just left, but – the kid needed this, and it made Obanai’s stomach turn just thinking about leaving almost hundred people out in the sun to rot and get swallowed up by animals hungry for raw meat.  

These people deserved better than that. Kuwajima-san's people deserved better than that. 

“I found a couple of shovels in the shed at the back!” the kid called out to him from the outside; interrupting his depressing thoughts.  

“On my way,” he called back; carefully side stepping the old man and walking out of the bloodied house. The kid was standing at the gate, two shovels in hand and face turned downward. His skin was pale against the light of the burning sun and his lips had been chewed into a bloody mess. He looked, small. Obanai gritted his teeth.  

Walking up to the brat, he grabbed a shovel out of his shaking hand and passed him by. However, before he could think better of it, Iguro found himself lifting his own hand and patting the kid on the head, once. “Get to work brat.” 

The tiny surprised noise the blonde let out at the awkward attempt at comfort sounded much better than the haunted tone he’d been sporting all day. Iguro didn’t know why that mattered, but in a way, it did. 

They worked in shared silence. Starting on opposite side of the village; with the snake pillar occasionally climbing rooftops just to quickly check in on the brat’s whereabouts. He told himself it was to make sure the idiot didn’t pass out from recognizing someone important to him. The little voice in the back of his head disagreed, but when had Obanai ever listened to that pestering annoyance before? 

Maybe that’s why in the end; after nearly eighteen hours of draining work, his vision blurred again, he stumbled where he stood, and before he could even sound the alarm, everything turned dark and he was gone long before his body hit the ground with a harsh thud.  

Maybe climbing roofs while you were still suffering from blood loss wasn’t such a good idea.  

                                                                                                                     XXXX

Obanai didn’t know how long he’d been unconscious for, but when awareness slowly started to trickle back into his body, his ears could faintly pick up a high-pitched voice and loud hissing sound. Twisting his body slightly, he hissed at the burning pain that dashed across his side. The noise around him stilled, and then a warm breath fanned across his face. 

“Senpai?” 

Cracking open his eyes in that moment, was probably one of the hardest things Obanai Iguro had ever done in his entire life. It felt like moving mountains. His body wouldn’t listen to him, and the effort it took just to let the glimmer of light meet his eyes, made sweat dampen his forehead. But when he eventually managed to accomplish the simple yet tremendously difficult task, he was met with the sight of a worried pair of golden eyes and a tiny wobbly smile filled with uncertainty. 

Obanai gave himself a moment to fully take in his current situation. And then smacking his lips; noticing how dry his throat was, he spoke up. “How long have I been out.” It sounded hoarse, painful. The kid most have noticed it too, because he vanished from his position above the pillar; making the man wince at the sudden light that burned his eyes and was back in less than a minute with a cold glass of water. 

A soft murmur of thanks later and Iguro was gratefully gulping down the refreshing drink. After three slurps, the glass was pulled away, and the kid was back again; leaning over him and staring down at him with worry. “I found you collapsed by the Suzuki family’s house. Are you ok Senpai?” The snake pillar could still feel the throbbing ache all across his bruised and injured body, but he settled down his voice in what he hoped was a reassuring tone, and said yes. 

“Never mind that,” he continued. “How long was I out? What about the bodies?” 

The kid sent him a tentative smile again; eyes once more brimming with tears. “It’s just been three hours.” He said. “And don’t worry. I gave the last few a proper burial. We’re done.” 

For the first time in a very long while, relief coursed through Obanai’s veins. “Good,” he said. “Good.” 

The kid leaned away and stood up. “What now?” he asked; the uncertainty he was feeling bleeding into his words. The shock of his situation didn’t seem to have set in yet. Iguro didn’t want to think about how bad it was going to get when it finally did, but for now, he would try to keep the kid as busy as possible. So long as he had something to do with his hands, it was unlikely he would collapse in on himself with grief. He'd already shown that level of strength by burying the dead, Obanai could only hope he would continue to do so, at least till they got a couple days between themselves and this place.  

“Pack a bag brat,” he mutters; hauling himself into a sitting position before throwing his legs over the side of the bed. “Take anything important to you, because we’re not coming back here.” With that said, he finally makes it off the bed and starts walking towards the tiny kitchen at the corner. Kaburamaru has curled himself into a ball on the table. Resting on the kid’s colorful haori. Obanai doesn’t know why, but something deep within his heart softens at the observation.   

Dragging out a chair, he sits down. A low grunt escaping past his lips. When his fingers come to press against his face in thought however, he pauses. What the- 

“Hey kid,” he calls out; brows furrowed, and lips curled into a nasty scowl. “Brat! Where are my bandages!” Obanai didn’t get pissed off a lot. He never had a need to, outside of the simmering rage dancing under his skin, but this – no one took his fucking bandages without asking first. And not even then. “Brat!” 

The kid comes running around the corner. A neat pile of white clothing resting in his outstretched arms. He looks scared. “I,” he starts; eyes looking at everything beside the man sitting in front of him. “You were choking on air or something, and I just – I was scared and... I thought you would – and I-” Now the rambles had turned into short gasping breaths and tear-filled eyes and, damn it. 

“Relax kid,” Iguro interrupts him. “I just want them back. Forget about everything else.” The blonde sends him a weak smile in gratitude, and Obanai scowls and looks away. 

Idiotic weakling. 

When he has the bandages safely secured around the lower part of his face, his shoulders untense and his fingers; that he hadn’t known were twitching uncomfortably, finally still. He breathes. Good, this was good. Nothing was happening, he was fine. He was ok. He – Obanai breathes deeply, holds it and lets it out in a long exhale. 

He was ok. 

“Senpai?” 

He hums. Eyes staring at nothing in particular.  

“What’s your name?” 

Obanai blinks. Huh? He hadn’t? The kid didn’t know – he hadn’t told him? His face suddenly flushes red, and he coughs into his hand. Well, that was an oversight. Come to think of it, he hadn’t asked about the brat’s name either. Nerves prickling in irritation, the snake pillar takes a moment to thank God none of the other idiots where here to witness his brief lapse in judgment. It was a minor mistake, but – Obanai didn’t do minor mistakes. 

“Senpai?” 

“Obanai Iguro,” he snaps. The kid flinches. “That’s my name. Now, what’s yours?” 

And then – right before the kid steeled himself, ready to blurt out his own useless name, Obanai – he remembered. It was like the old man was standing right next to him. His scratchy voice whispering into his ear as an old letter he’d once read flashed for the briefest of moments behind his eyes.  

“Agatsuma Zenitsu,” they both say at the same time. One just the slightest bit delayed than the other, but none the less; the kid looks shocked. “How?” 

Iguro scoffs. “I have a good memory,” he mutters; taking the cowards way out and not looking at the kid. His chest still feels tight at the tiny memory of the old man. “Kuwajima-san told me about you once. Now go pack.” 

It was clear the kid, or now Agatsuma wanted to ask further questions by the way his cheeks were puffed, and his eyes were gleaming with something of a desperate hunger, but Obanai quickly shot the notion down with a deadly glare. “Don’t test me brat. Now go.” 

Deflating, the kid lets his shoulder fall. “I already did that,” he mumbles. “It’s not much, but I packed everything while you were out.” Then looking down as if in guilt, he twisted his fingers around his pants. “I took some of gra-masters things and some of Kaigaku-senpai's. Do you think that’s ok?” 

Reaching out towards Kaburamaru, Iguro gave a careless shrug. “Do what you want. None’s here to stop you right?” 

For some reason, Kaburamaru just snapped lightly at his hand, before slithering over to the teen next to him and climbing up his arm faster than the kid could blink. Zenitsu yelps and freezes on the spot. Not daring to even blink as the snake curls himself around his neck; hissing softly at his master. Obanai frowns. “You’re scaring the kid Kaburamaru.” The snake doesn’t budge, and the pillar sighs. “Don’t lose the fool,” he says to the brat and stands up to make his way over to the door. 

Stopping at the threshold, he looks around. The place is tiny, barren, cold, empty almost. “Whose place is this?” he asks; more like wonders out loud. He doesn’t expect the brat to answer, but he does.  

“It’s mine,” he mumbles; head tilted away from Kaburamaru’s face and eyes terribly sad. “I took you here after you... I didn’t think putting you in a de- I thought this would work better.” 

Obanai nods, and then they are both out the door, and walking away from a place they both once knew. Away from Zenitsu’s home.  

The snake pillar notices how far this tiny hut was from the village, but he doesn’t comment on it. Just notes absentmindedly that maybe the distance is what kept the kid alive when everyone else met their gruesome faiths. If his stomach twists at the tiny little lonely hut excluded from the bustling village in the distance, he doesn’t voice it. If his fingers clench and his mouth taste like ash, he doesn't dwell on it. It didn’t matter now. 

It never would. So instead he takes a deep breath- 

“Let’s go Agatsuma. Our destination is a week’s journey away.” 

The rest station wasn’t too far, and Obanai was going to get the kid there and let him be someone else's trouble. But, he swore to himself as they started walking, he was going to get Agatsuma there. Come hell or high water. He was going to get the brat there safely. He owed Kuwajima-san that much. 

Chapter Text

Walking away from the only home he’d ever known had surprisingly been a lot easier than Zenitsu had expected. He’d felt nothing, nothing at all. Just a hollow-empty feeling that left him almost breathless. Maybe he should have known then. Maybe he should have anticipated what's to come. Something was clearly wrong with him. He wasn’t thinking straight and he – wherever Obanai-senpai was taking him, he didn’t know how to feel about that either. He didn’t know how to feel about anything anymore. Not until it finally came crumbling down all around him in waves of desperate and unstoppable grief. 

Zenitsu hadn’t seen it coming. As far as his awareness went, he’d been following the pillar around in silence for hours; neither of them saying anything, and the younger occupying himself with gently patting the snake on his shoulder, but suddenly, out of the blue – his fingers... his fingers started shaking.  

It was unnoticeable at first, but- 

They shook so hard by the end, Zenitsu had to physically stop and curl them into fists for the shaking to subside. He breathed out and breathed in. Nothing, no air was getting into his lungs. He- 

His chest hurt. His eyes stung and... gramps-senpai... they, he – he'd lost them, hadn’t he? They were dead and, and he- He hadn’t saved them. Hadn’t saved anyone.  

Taking a step back, his knees buckled. He barely caught himself on a tree before he could gracelessly face-plant onto the wet mud of the floor. Still- 

Gramps  

He buried gr-master. He’d buried him and he hadn’t even said anything. He hadn’t said a goodbye. He hadn’t said any.thing. He just – And what about Kaigaku-senpai? He hadn’t even found his body! Or at least whatever he found didn’t even look like him anymore. Eaten and mutilated. His stomach lurched at the thought. Clamping a hand tightly over his mouth his eyes bulged. 

‘She ate him,’ he thought. ‘The demon ate my senpai till there was nothing left and – oh my God. Oh my God – ohmyGod.’  

“Agatsuma?” 

They were dead! They were dead and he... He hadn’t said anything. Nothing – he was never going to see them again and he- 

“Agatsuma!” 

Oh God. They were dead. 

“Agatsuma! Kid!” 

Zenitsu stumbled back; vision blurry and eyes leaking tears that wouldn’t stop. He was going to- his stomach lurched again. Something dark, something sickening climbing up his throat and wedging itself firmly between his guilt and grief. 

He’d lost them all, hadn’t he?  

The truth, the undeniable truth hit him like a mountain; right across the chest, and the blonde collapsed to his knees by the sheer force.  

“Agatsuma!” 

Vaguely registering the ghost of a hand on his shoulder, Zenitsu screwed his eyes shut and hurled. Everything he’d eaten that day; which wasn’t much, splashing on the forest floor and making him even more nauseous. He didn’t stop until he was only left heaving up nothing. 

So now there he was. Arms bracing him from collapsing into his own sick and knees shaking from the effort it took to carry his useless weight. 

A hand 

A hand was rubbing circles into his back. He hadn’t noticed... How long? Still- 

It felt warm, comforting, honest – But... he didn’t deserve comfort, he- 

“Obanai-senpai?” 

A breath of relief and then. “You with me brat?” 

Maybe it was the tone, maybe because it was everything else. Maybe nothing at all, but for a second, he’d sounded like 

Kaigaku-senpai. 

Zenitsu pulled himself back on his knees; the older male carefully helping him so he could lean against the tree rather than sit without support. 

When their eyes finally met, Obanai’s face was blank, Zenitsu’s was crushed. So, when the pillar let go of his shoulder and asked him an empty question that sounded like vague concern. Zenitsu gagged. The pillar froze. 

The blonde gagged again. 

“Are you going to throw up again?” 

No, the answer was no, but... He gagged again. Fingers curling and uncurling and eyes dancing around wildly. He wasn’t going to throw up, but... Clawing at the ground desperately and then bringing those dirty nails to his eyes, Zenitsu just stared at them. 

“Gramps hands are getting dirty,” he whispered; voice crooked and broken. “I have to get him out, I- I have to get them out. Gramps doesn’t like to be dirty I, I have to get them out!” 

Obanai-senpai's face crumbled, and Zenitsu didn’t know why. It’s not like they had days between themselves and the village? They could still go back. Besides, gramps would make them a really good chicken stew and maybe he would give Obanai-senpai a couple of pointers too! It’s not like you were ever too old to learn right? He tells the pillar this, and two mismatched eyes stare back at him; unreadable. 

“We can’t do that Agat... Zenitsu.” The words are careful, calm, understanding, yet firm. 

Zenitsu doesn’t think the older is getting him, so he says. “It’s ok Obanai-senpai. I’m sure gramps will love to see you again.” 

Some kind of stillness comes over the pillar then. “I’m sorry Zenitsu. Kuwajima-san is dead. You know this.” 

Maybe, maybe he did. 

He does. 

He looks at Obanai-senpai, really looks at him. The older looks calm. Zenitsu envies that in him. Nothing is said between them for a while. The black-haired male taken the time to wipe his mouth with the edge of his own haori. Any other day, any other time, Zenitsu would have been shocked by the action. That someone else other than gramps- 

But it’s not any other day, so instead he gasps, he hiccups, and then he curls himself into a ball and screams. 

Screams so loud he hopes gramps can hear him wherever he is. Hear how much Zenitsu was missing him. Hear his pain. He wished – he wished he could hear the dead. He could hear everything else, couldn’t he? Thoughts and feelings and intentions and – why couldn’t he hear the dead? 

He screams and continues to scream, and Obanai-senpai never leaves his side. A gentle hand on his head and a comforting figure shielding him from the world.

                                                                                                                             XXXXX 

Zenitsu doesn’t recover. Doesn’t heal or feel better after that. He can’t predict how much time has passed. Doesn’t know how much distance they have put between themselves and between his family, and every time he thinks about it, it hurts. So, he shoves it into the back of his head and carries on. Mind foggy and body numb. 

Obanai-senpai is the one dragging him forward; fingers gripping tight around the haori covering his arm. It’s Obanai-senpai who forces food down his throat and it’s Obanai-senpai that washes his hair and helps him put on his clothes. Zenitsu should feel ashamed, feel embarrassed to look so pathetic and weak in front of someone that’s probably not that much older than him, but he can’t seem to bother. Everyone is dead and if he lets himself feel that fact for even a second, Zenitsu was afraid he would crumble down all together. So, he lets his new senpai drag him around, let him clean him up, let him feed him, let him fold up his own haori to use it as a pillow for his empty head. Let him do everything. And he feels nothing. 

The pillar doesn’t complain, doesn’t stay by his side unless strictly necessary either, and even the white snake has migrated from his shoulders and back to his master’s. A brief flair of sadness skims under Zenitsu’s heart, but it’s quickly drowned out by the endless grief locked into his soul. So, he stares at his feet and says nothing. 

He doesn’t say anything, at least not until his veins start burning with something else other than grief. It comes as sudden as everything else in his life had so far. Unexpected and shocking. An all-consuming feeling that defies all logic and reasoning. A thirst for pain. A dream of punishment. A desire for nothing less than vengeance. 

He’s sitting there; legs pulled under him and face resting on his knees, when  it  burns him inside out. He couldn’t get his family back, never again. He wouldn’t ever see them smile or laugh or insult him. Never again. 

But... he could give that demon the same treatment. Give her, her own never again(s). 

Vengeance. 

His eyes remain shut, but his hands stop shaking. For the first time since he’d found gramps. 

-Purpose-  

-Vengeance -  

-Payback-  

-Death-  

It tasted good. It tasted sweet, and it made him breathe. Finally, it made him shut the whole screaming world out, and breathe.  

So, when the sun rose to meet the sky again the next morning, Zenitsu stood up on his own before Obanai-senpai could make his way over to him. Catching the other male completely off guard. Zenitsu gave him a faint smile for that, shocking the pillar even more. 

“Morning Obanai-senpai,” he muttered. 

It took the older man a second to compose himself, but when he did, he turned his back to the blonde and trekked his way over to the rock he’d been sitting on and took his previous place on it. “You’re feeling better?” 

It was a question, and it was not at the same time. It felt more like a test. 

Zenitsu nods nonetheless. 

“Good.” Obanai-senpai is frowning now. “It’s been three days brat. Three days of you being utterly useless. I would have left you if that had kept up.” 

The blonde flinches back; staring at the ground, fists clenched. “I’m sorry.” 

“You should be.” 

Every word out of the pillar’s mouth makes Zenitsu feel smaller and smaller.  

“Now, are you going to cause me anymore trouble brat?” He shakes his head; whatever resolve he’d come to, slowly crumbling under his feet. 

“Good,” his senpai says again. “Now let’s go. We’ve wasted enough time as it is.” 

‘No,’ Zenitsu thinks desperately; lips quivering and eyes widening as the older male picks up his bag and starts walking.‘It can’t end here. He needs to listen to me. He needs to help me. I – I need to get stronger; I need help!’  

“Obanai-senpai!” 

He shouts. Maybe he shouldn’t have, but it’s all he can do to find the courage to say what he wants.  

The other man stops. 

“I need you to train me! I want revenge!” 

The pillar doesn’t say anything for a while, and Zenitsu feels his stomach sinking.Maybe he was wrong after all. But then the other finally speaks up.  

“It looks like you have some guts after all,” he says. “Very well. Training starts in an hour.” 

Zenitsu’s lips widen into a giant smile and he lets out a tiny little noise of excitement that makes the pillar snort. The blonde flushes red and looks down, but he still can’t get rid of the giddy feeling of finally having a direction to walk towards. Even if that direction is a bloody path that could lead him towards even more pain and suffering. 

                                                                                                                                  XXXXX 

He blinked, and in a flash the butt end of a sword was slammed into his cheek, and Zenitsu was hitting the ground faster than he could formulate a single thought. 

“Get up and do it again.” 

Groaning he sucked in a shallow breath; spat out a wad of blood and pushed himself slowly back on his feet. Raising his blade like he’d been instructed to so many times by both gramps and now Obanai-senpai, he grounded himself and moved to attack yet again. 

A spin, a step and then another slam of the snake pillar’s sword. This time hitting his ribs and sending him sprawling to the ground. 

“Again.” 

Muttering less than pleasant insults under his breath; the thunder breath user forced himself to stand up. He didn’t even get the chance to assume the correct stance this time, before Obanai-senpai had him eating ground. 

“Again.” 

“I’m trying,” he protested; biting back the frustrating tears welling up in his eyes. He couldn’t afford to cry now. God knew Obanai-senpai hated when he cried. But- “I’m really trying senpai!” he pleaded; pushing himself to his feet. “I just don’t know what any of this is doing to help me!” 

The snake pillar glared at him; his mismatched eyes shining with clear and indisputable disgust. “If you haven’t figured that out yet, you’re even more hopeless than I thought.” 

And, ouch. That had hurt. 

The older man most have seen the look on his face; the blonde not being able to mask it quickly enough, and that made the pillar sigh. Sheathing his sword, Obanai-senpai gave Zenitsu an assessing gaze. “You’re an idiot, aren’t you?” he finally said; nodding his head once as if he’d come to some kind of grand conclusion. 

Zenitsu didn’t like his tone, nor the insult. He frowned. “No, I’m not!” Wiping his eyes in frustration, he glared at the other man. “You’re just not explaining anything, and I just don’t understand what you want me to do!” 

“I want you to listen, you moron! Listen to my actions, listen to my thoughts. Listen!” Obanai was now furiously pressing at his own head repeatedly, trying to emphasize his point as clearly as he could. “You have an extraordinary hearing, don’t you? Use it.” 

“Oh.” 

“Exactly.” 

It was, it was quite obvious now that Zenitsu properly thought about it. And he hadn’t even figured it out on his own. Biting his lip, he looked down. Shame coursing through his veins. He’d already lost a whole day with his useless fumbling and now less than three days were left before they arrived at the rest stop and – how was he going to convince Obanai-senpai to continue training him if he couldn’t even master the basics, but still- 

“Gramps never told me to do that?” 

“He had another student. He probably didn’t have the time to focus on anything more than you could handle.” Each word was spoken with a sort of exasperated tone that made the blonde feel like he was nothing. It wasn’t a pleasant experience. “Fortunately for you,” Obanai continued. “I only have you.” 

Zenitsu’s head shot up. He might have imagined it, but – he did have an amazing hearing, didn’t he? And, it had sounded like, yeah – there had been something vaguely fond in the elder's words right then. 

It made Zentisu feel warm inside, and maybe that’s why he took his stance again, wiped away the blood trickling down his forehead and licked his busted lip in concentration. 

He was going to get this right.  

Closing his eyes, he tried to shut off all senses except for his hearing. 

He wasn’t going to fail. 

Everything melted away. He couldn’t feel the cold metal between his grip. Not the unstable forest floor under his feet. Not the orange light trying to burst through his closed eyelids. Nothing. All he allowed himself to concentrate on was sound.‘Listen,’  he told himself.‘Listen for the attack.’  

And there- 

A swoosh of a sword, a wisp of clothing material and a soft intake of a breath. 

Zenitsu moved, but – a thud, and he was on the ground again. 

“Wa-” he choked holding his stomach; eyes tightly shut. “How?” 

“Again.” 

His heart sank. 

He really was nothing. 

                                                                                                                                 XXXXX 

Training doesn’t go any better through the next days. It’s nothing more than pain and disappointment. Zenitsu found himself countless times wanting to just curl up into a ball and cry. He’d thought that now that he had a direction, a goal, that maybe – just maybe he wouldn’t be such a failure of a student anymore. 

Maybe- 

If Kaigaku-senpai had lived... He would have already been hunting down their killer, but here Zenitsu was, being a failure. Always a failure. Always. 

When a sob tore its way passed his lips, the blonde slammed a hand over his mouth to try and muffle the sound. Still, his teacher had heard. 

“Stop crying brat,” he said; quick, automatic, exasperated. “I told you not to cry in front of me. Go do that pathetic act somewhere else.” 

Fair enough.  

But it didn’t make those cruel words hurt any less. Sometimes, it felt like Kaigaku-senpai's ghost was still hunting him through Obanai-senpai. 

“Then get back here and eat. Wouldn’t do me any good if you just collapsed. You need to take care of yourself better, brat” 

And sometimes; his lips curl up the slightest bit as he turns away from his teacher to walk away. Sometimes it was gramps ghost moving in the gruff mannerism of Obanai-senpai. 

Still, time runs out in the end.  

Standing in front of the giant gates of the rest stop. Wisteria trees casting giant shadows over them, Zenitsu knows his time is up. Knows that after Obanai-senpai get sufficient amount of rest here, after he sends whatever information he said he would, the older man would leave, and would leave him behind. 

And he couldn’t even protest. 

It’s not like he had proved anything. A whole week, and what did he have to show for it? 

Listen, his teacher had said time and time again. Listen to my actions, but don’t forget to be aware of your own surroundings, and still – still he wasn’t able to make a lick of progress. 

He was sure Obanai-senpai felt relieved to get rid of him.  

It made something in his stomach lurch with agony. It took a moment for him to realize what the feeling was. 

Disappointment. Disappointment that he’d managed to let someone else down yet again. 

Chapter Text

Obanai would be lying if he didn’t say pure relief coursed through his veins at the sight of the mansion. It was as big and as welcoming as he remembered it to be, and the snake pillar found his shoulders unconsciously loosening as him and the kid looked up at the metal gates currently keeping them out. 

With a soft creek and a light clicking noise, the metal bars protecting the estate from the outside world fell open; welcoming them in. For just a moment, Iguro almost reached behind him to grip the kid’s haori like he’d been doing the first couple of hellish days in their journey, but thankfully stopped himself in time. The brat was fine. He could move on his own. 

He’d been doing it for the past few days, hadn't he. 

The snake pillar started walking without looking back, and after a momentary pause in-between, his ears registered the soft patter of familiar footsteps following behind him. A wisp of unrest flickering in his stomach subsided. Obanai didn’t care to try and decipher the reason why. 

Silently they made their way through the long trek up to the front doors, and before the pillar even had the chance to lift a hand to knock, a click was heard and both doors slide open. Revealing an old man with slightly crouched over figure, but the most kindest of smiles painting his lips. 

Obanai couldn’t help the slight curl of his own mouth to match the man standing in front of him. “Yamaura-san,” he muttered; tone tilting up in warmth. “It’s good to see you again.” 

The old man reached out to touch his arm. Iguro let him, and when the old man’s smile widened even further, the snake pillar found himself covering the wrinkled fingers with his own dirty palm.  

“It’s been too long,” Yamuara-san muttered. “Welcome back Iguro-sama.” 

Frowning, Iguro pats the old hand twice, before gently scolding his friend. “It’s Obanai,” he huffs. “I thought we agreed to drop the formalities.” Yamaura-san's eyes-only twinkle with mirth and a short nod of his head indicates he’s only agreeing as not to upset him. Obanai just shakes his head in amusement and allows himself to be led into the mansion; the kid following close behind. The brat had yet to say anything after their last training, which was approximately six hours ago. The pillar would have been concerned if he’d cared enough about the kid in the first place. He didn’t, so he wasn’t. 

“Who is your little companion?” Yamaura-san asks as he leads them through a series of corridors and down a series of more. 

“He’s Kuwajima-san's former student. Sadly Kuwajima-san passed away during a demon attack, so I brought the kid here to be cared for till further arrangements can be made.” He says all this with a straight face and a slight frown shadowing his mouth. For some reason, the decision isn’t bringing him the relief he thought it would.  

No matter, he had accomplished what he’d set out to do and now it was up to Yamaura-san and his wife to take care of the rest. 

“I see,” his old friend hums. “Then it is good that you brought him here Iguro-sama. I promise me and my wife will take good care of him.” Here he turns around to look back at them both; eyes focusing on the kid standing slightly behind him. Yamaura-san's smile is gentle. “You have nothing to be scared of anymore child,” he says. “You are safe here.” 

From the corner of his eye, Obanai sees the kid nod. A tiny jerky movement of his head, but it was a deliberate action to confirm he was listening and was understanding. That’s more than Iguro had hoped the kid was capable off in his current zoned out condition. 

It looked like he hadn’t fallen back into his old catatonic state then.  

Muscles that the pillar didn’t even know were tense, slowly relaxed in his body, and the snake pillar breathed an inaudible sigh of relief. 

“Good good,” the old man mumbled, turning around to walk ahead of them again.

Nothing else is said between all parties until they reach a large white room that is from wall to wall decorated with all types of medical equipment.  

Obanai’s eyes grow soft at the sight. Of course, the old man was worried. He always was.  

“I’m fine Yamaura-san,” he says, even as he allows his friend to lead him by the arm over to a lady clad in white; waiting patiently by a hospital bed.  

“Let us determine that for ourselves,” Yamaura-san fires back. Going over to Zenitsu and leading him over to the other bed by the window. “I would feel much better knowing you’re both ok if I hear it from a qualified medical professional, Iguro-sama. Now if you will allow these doctors to take a look at you both, I would be entirely grateful.” 

He’d never managed to say no to Yamaura-san or his wife before and Obanai was certain he wasn’t about to manage that feat now, so he keeps his mouth shut and let the lady examine his wounds. 

Nodding in satisfaction, the old man gives them both one last warning look before walking out the door. “I’ll make sure to inform Fuyuko to prepare two adjacent rooms for you both”

With those final words, he disappeared around the corner and left his visitors in the hands of his staff. 

                                                                                                             XXXXX 

 The kid’s examination was done and over with faster than Obanai could get out of his outer clothes. And although that was a relief. Said feeling of finally having something go his way, quickly goes down the drain as the face of his doctor becomes more and more sour with each untended injury she discovers on his body. “Honestly you slayers,” she grumbled; cleaning up the shallow cut under bruised ribs. “It’s a wonder you lot don’t just keel over by yourself without the help of a demon.” 

Obanai opted to keep his mouth shut during the whole rant. It wouldn’t do to protest his innocence when this woman was currently holding a needle to his arm; stitching up a deeper and almost festering cut that she’d spent the better part of five minutes cleaning. But nothing compares to the utmost horror carved across her face when her attention is finally directed towards his leg.  

“Dear God,” she whispered, slowly taking in what she later called almost too infected to save. “What are you kids doing to yourself out there.” 

The snake pillar had closed his eyes at this point. Relaxing to the best of his abilities as he let his mind drift to the objectives he had to accomplish; while his wounds were currently being treated. He’d refused any sort of pain numbing medications, and even if his skin burned at every prod and piercing of the needle, he was still relieved that his mind was still his to control during the whole procedure.  

                                                                                                               XXXXX

Eventually he was let out. He was however, not let go until he had suffered through an earful of not putting any unnecessary pressure on his right leg. “You could have lost it,” Hanako-san had said; the barely visible wrinkles by her eyes deepening in worry. “You need to be careful or I won’t be able to do anything next time.” 

Obanai nods; a cane supporting most of his weight. “I understand Hanako-san. Thank you.” The gratitude comes out flat, but the doctor doesn’t seem to mind all that much, only giving him a hard stare, before finally nodding and opening the door for him.  

“Well then,” she says. “You’re free to go for now. But please do check in with me tomorrow and try not to aggravate your fractured ribs either.” 

He hums in agreement and tilts his head towards the door at the brat, indicating that it was time to go. The kid had barely made any sound the whole time they’d been here. Choosing instead to sit silently by the corner as Obanai’s examination was carefully being conducted. The only time he’d looked up was when the older had hissed loudly in pain when the alcohol had been applied to his infected leg. The utter paleness of the kid’s face had made the pillar make a visible effort to bite back his pain even when he’d wanted to curse out loud and snap at everyone and everything. The brat didn’t need any more trauma added to his current pile of issues. God knew Obanai couldn’t handle another three days of wondering whether the kid would ever recover from the vegetative state he’d been in.  

The demon slayer’s gut twists at the memory of those days. Of those unseeing blank eyes. 

 As long as he kept the idiot from ever going back to that, Obanai would allow himself the chance to pretend he hadn’t yet let down Kuwajima-san. 

“Let’s go kid,” he ordered; hobbling with all the grace of a wounded animal as he slowly made his way towards where he hoped Yamaura-san and Fuyuko were waiting for them.  

Zenitsu hopped down from the bed where he’d been swinging his legs back and forth absentmindedly and; with his head down, trudged of silently after him. 

They find Fuyuko by herself in the kitchen. “Iguro-sama,” she exclaims; brightening up nine times more than should be humanly possible, as she shuffles over to him and wraps her frail arms around his waist “Dear boy,” she mutters into his chest. “We have all missed you so much.” 

She doesn’t let him reply; quickly letting go to embrace the kid behind him with the same vigor. “Oh, sweet child,” she fuzzes; cupping the surprised Zenitsu by the cheek and looking at him up and down. “I heard about Jigoro-san. I’m so sorry hun.” Each of her words felt as if it broke something lose within the kid, because by the time Fuyuko mentioned the old man, the kid's lips were quivering, and his eyes were glassy.  

“You knew gramps?” he asks; words hitching in his throat and tears finally breaking free behind their barriers to roll down his cheeks in waves of grief.  

“Oh, my dear boy.”  

Fuyuko hugs him again, and it's as if that’s exactly what the kid’s been needing all this time, because Zenitsu sobs loudly and buries his face in the crook of the old lady neck; arms coming up to circle around her waist and shoulders shaking with uncontrollable grief. 

It hurts, Obanai realizes then. It hurts for reasons he can’t fully understand to see this kid suffer through so much pain because he hadn’t been able to arrive even a week earlier. Hadn’t been able to keep the kid’s family together. He- 

As he watches Fuyuko shush the brat with gentle words of love and kindness, he lets his eyes wander to his own arm resting lifelessly by his side and nods to himself. 

He’d done the right thing. Bringing Zenitsu here.  

It was the right thing to do. 

Leaving him here.

Fuyuko and Yamaura-san would take care of him, he knew they would. 

Turning around, he walks out of the kitchen to find his old friend.  

It wasn’t his place to intrude upon their moment of shared grief. He had business to conduct and messages to send out before he left for his next mission. Before he left Zenitsu behind.

                                                                                                                   XXXXXX

He’s in his room, finishing up detailed analysis about the unusual massacre that took place in Zenitsu’s village for Oyakata-sama, when he hears a soft knock coming from his door.  

“Come in,” he calls out; quickly noting down his thoughts about the upper moon demon, what he’d concluded about her and her abnormal behaviour and what that might mean in the grand scheme of things. 

A blonde head pops through the gap of the now open door. Obanai can see him from the corner of his eye, and so doesn’t turn around to look at him. The kid fidgets in place for a couple of seconds, before finally deciding to say anything of note.  

“Obanai-senpai?” 

Briefly the snake pillar wonders why he’s letting the kid call him by his first name so casually, but he pushes the thought aside for another day, and continues to write; letting out a soft hum to indicate he was listening. 

“Um,” the kid mumbles; clearly nervous by the way he’s yet to fully step into the room. “Fuyuko-chan told me to tell you that di... that dinner is ready?” It comes out as more of a question than a statement, and Obanai contemplates calling him out on his indecisiveness, but dismisses it just as quick. 

It looked like the kid had somehow managed to break out of his shell for the time being. It wouldn’t do to push him right back in. So- 

“I’ll be there in a few,” he says; not taking his eye from the paper in front of him. The kid lingers for just a second longer, before excusing himself quickly and scuttling away. Realizing Obanai wasn’t about to say anything else to him. 

Sighing, the snake pillar jots down a couple more words, but not wanting to offend Fuyuko and Yamaura-san, he is putting everything away soon enough and dragging himself back on his feet; careful not to aggravate his injured leg.  

When he finally arrives at the dining hall, all parties are seated and waiting for him. Bowing to them in short apology, he takes his place across Zenitsu and puts his hands in his lap. Fuyuko is already filling up plates for everyone. She’s currently mounting heaps of food on the kid’s plate, and Obanai isn’t paying too much attention to it all, when he spots the light grimace that passes over the kid’s face. Turning around to look at Fuyuko again, he sees her adding seeded rolls onto the kid’s plate. 'Looks like the kid doesn't like it,' he thinks absentmindedly, watching the blonde barely keep the expression of disgust off his face. 

Obanai would have been almost amused by the kid's dilemma, if he didn’t sympathize with him when it came to those abominations. He didn’t like them much either and Fuyuko had never figured out that he’d been forcing himself to eat the rolls for weeks while he’d lived with them.  

Now the kid was going to suffer through the same horrifying experience, unless- 

When all the plates are served, and all the seeded rolls are distributed to the four occupants around the dining table, Obanai takes a deep breath, steels himself and without allowing himself the chance to back down, reaches across the table with his chop sticks and pilfers three out of the four rolls from the brat’s plate.  

The blonde stares at him in surprise and Fuyuko frowns at him in disapproval; not voicing her opinion despite clearly wanting to. The expression eases of her face, when Obanai takes some of the meat and rice of his own plates and dumps them into the kid’s.  

That should do it. 

He doesn't say anything else. Just takes of his bandages; making sure to have them right next to him – fingers resting atop of them to keep any old memories from resurfacing, as he takes his first bite out of the abomination of a roll.  

Chewing with jaw locked, Obanai looks up and sees a sort of happy little smile dancing across the kid’s face as he chews on the extra meat on his plate, and- 

Swallowing down the dry thing in his mouth, the pillar licks his lips and takes another bite.  

He could do this. He’d done it before.

So what if he was eating more of these things than all the other times combined? Iguro could handle it, and maybe - maybe seeing the kid look just the tiniest bit happier; sitting there, across the table made it kind of worth it in the end.

Maybe. 

Chapter Text

Obanai leaves the kid in the kitchen to help Fuyoko clean up. He might have volunteered too, but just the sight of food, any kind of food – made his stomach flip and his gut convulse. Damn those rolls.  

So, with a quick goodnight to the masters of the house, he finds himself dragging his feet back to the bedroom set up for him.  

It’s specious enough that he doesn’t find himself – suffocating? Obanai isn’t quite sure, but he does know that he is still capable of breathing in here, and with the wall long windows decorating one side of his room, he knew that darkness was too far away to touch him.  

Now that exhaustion from days of fighting for his life and exhaustion from weeks of mental strain had begun to sink in, he didn’t have the strength anymore to keep his dirties memories perfectly locked up in their tiny little boxes at the back corner of his subconsciousness, so this; this would do for now. He would move to a better room tomorrow. One better protected. But for now, this is what he needed.  

The Yamauras’ knew him too well. 

Sighing, he sits himself carefully by the low table; picking up writing his letter from where he’d stopped previously and immerses himself back in the details of his designated mission as well as his unexpected one.  

When Obanai done, he puts the sealed letter carefully by the lamp, and starts to take off his outer clothes. He’s tired, he knows that, so sleep was the best option for refueling his depleting resources. Still- 

As Iguro begins to lie down on his already made futon; he contemplates for a second if he should check in on the kid. He’d probably come back from the kitchen by now, and – he... the snake pillar frowns; mouth turning down at the corners under the clean white bandages.  

The brat hadn’t been alone ever since the massacre. Was it wise to just leave him alone? Just like that? 

Shaking his head with a bit more vigor than ultimately necessary, the pillar scowls in contempt as he starts unwrapping the white cloth hiding his face.‘I don’t need to keep worrying about the kid,’ he tells himself; tone scolding as if he needed to remind himself of his own place in this little equation he was writing.‘He has the Yamauras' now. They’ll check in on him if needed. He’s not my business anymore.’  

Lying down; fingers still gripping at the white fabric, he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, holds it – then lets it out in one fell swoop. 

The brat was fine. 

And Obanai most have truly been tired; exhaustion, pain and stress catching up to him all at once because before he knows it, he’s out like a light.

                                                                                                                        XXXXX

Obanai’s eyes snap open.  

Darkness greet his gaze and cold sweat dripples down his forehead to splatter soundlessly on his pillow.  

He breaths. 

Something had woken him up. He didn’t know what. Kaburamaru had chosen to leave his side sometime during dinner, so it couldn’t be him. Still, he was sure something had woken him up. Long honed skills did not lie. So, what was it? 

It couldn’t be danger. No, if it was he would already be up and reaching for his sword. Fighting demons for as long as he had, for as long as  they  all had, these types of instincts, they danced across their skin like a sixth sense.  

This was different. This wasn’t the same. So what was it?  

His nerves are firing in all directions, his brows are furrowed in suspended anticipation and his lips feel too chapped and gnawed through with anxiety.  

Closing his eyes; sweat trickling down them as a physical representation of emotions he can’t fully decipher yet, Iguro takes a deep breath and holds it.  

This... this all feels too familiar. He’d felt like this before. More than once he was sure of it. This gnawing ripples of skin tearing worry. He... 

Obanai’s eyes snap open again; now wide with poorly hidden worry. 

He was up on his feet before he could even think, and out the door before the air held in his lungs could fully escape. In two seconds flat he was standing at the threshold of the kid’s room; door swung open and light casting shadows over the figure on the ground. 

Oh 

Whimpering. 

He couldn’t fully make out the body on the futon, but he could clearly hear him. The kid was whimpering and trashing around where he lay. He was clearly having a nightmare. Ridiculous. This – this was what had bothered him? 

Shaking his head, he turns back around and leaves as silently as he came. What the hell was wrong with him? Yes, these were his instincts. Obanai always reacted on instincts. It was as if his subconscious compensated for understanding the things he himself couldn’t fully grasp yet, but- 

He – the last time he’d woken up in cold sweat like this; mind screaming at him to get up, was when Mitsuri-san had been burning up with fever and he’d somehow managed to sooth away her nightmares, but... It wasn’t the same. Hell, the time before that had been Rengoku; the idiot having been missing for days, not checking in.  

Obanai hadn’t been able to sleep a wink until he finally decided to just go look for him himself. To this day, Shinobu teases him about it. But he would have never taken it back – how he reacted, never.  The idiot had needed backup. And the snake pillar had arrived just at the nick of time. God knew what would have happened if he hadn’t arrived when he did. 

Obanai wasn’t sure he was willing to contemplate a world without the flame pillar in it just yet. Thankfully, it wouldn’t happen. Not with how powerful the man had gotten as of late. Iguro himself was most likely to go long before Rengoku so much as got a scar on his stupid ridiculous face.  

Shaking his head, he lets his forehead rest against his door.  

Because that wasn’t what was burning him inside right now, was it. 

The question was, why had he woken up on behalf of the kid? Had it been a coincidence? Or instinct to protect? 

A coincidence, he decides; standing in front of his own doors, eyes narrowed but ears still peeled for any sound that may reach him from the other room.  

The kid needed to deal with his own issues. It was only natural to have nightmares. He’d suffered a lot through the past couple of weeks. He’d lost his whole family. He just needed time. There was nothing Obanai could do to fix that. Nothing he wanted to do to fix that. Mitsuri-san was different. She’d been sick, and – and she was his friend. His family. And, Rengoku had needed him too, so- 

But – but then why couldn’t he take the final step into his own room? 

Growling in frustration, he threw his arms up in the air; grimacing slightly from the pain that briefly flares up from his ribs, as he; with resigned steps moves silently back over to the room next door.  

Obanai should have known he’d eventually be infected by those two idiotic bleeding hearts in his life. That’s the only reason why he was currently sneaking into the room of the brat he was literally about to abandon in less than two days. 

God, he was pathetic. 

“Brat,” he hisses; sliding down on the floor next to the futon. “Brat wake up. It’s just a nightmare.” 

Nothing. 

Of course it could never be that easy. 

He’s just about to reach out to shake the kid awake; not liking the paleness of his skin nor the silent tears leaking down his cheeks when- 

“Please, please don’t! I... Please! Don’t do this, please. Gramps! Don’t! Kai - No, stop! Please!” A sob, and then the kid curls into himself; curls into a tight ball very reminiscent off that day  and Obanai - Obanai can’t take it anymore. 

Without thinking, he reaches out and places one solid hand on the kid’s shoulder. He can hear me. He told me that he can hear important words, even in his sleep.’ is the only thought that passes through his head before he opens his mouth and breaths out the only words he can say with any level of certainty. 

“I am Iguro Obanai. The snake pillar of the demon slayer corps and I am not weak. I will protect you Zenitsu Agatsuma. There is no need to be afraid. So sleep.” 

He can’t promise much, but he can promise this. While he is here, while he’s still around, he will protect this brat. Whether that is from a foe or from his own nightmares, it didn’t really matter. He would do it all the same, and- 

It looks to have worked, because in a matter of moments, the whimpering ceases, the tears stop and the kid uncurls himself just the tiniest bit and stops shaking. His breath evens out and his face relaxes.  

Obanai observes him for a minute; hand still resting on one shoulder, but when the kid doesn’t move any further; nightmares momentarily halted, he stands back up again; eyes briefly glancing over Kaburamaru’s unmoving form, meeting his red gaze. 

Ah, so this is where he was. 

Iguro turns away and leaves.   

Chapter Text

Zenitsu had been here in this mansion for only two day, and he was already getting sick of it. There were too many hallways, too many stairs, too many doors and too many of too much of everything and it was annoying. Huffing in a barely contained irritation, he turned down another corridor; making sure that his hearing was still fully devoted to the soft whirling of the pond five floors below and out in the garden somewhere.  

Filtering out the noises wasn’t easy, and sometimes he just wanted to revert back to not using his keen hearing senses; in fact, he wanted to use them for other things beside training. Like making his way through this ridiculous maze of a mansion, but he couldn’t. Not according to Obanai-senpai. He needed to train to get better, so with another heavy sigh, he made sure his ears were still tracking the calming waters bellow him as he slowly made his way down another flight of stairs.  

A hissing sound disrupted his concentration and Zenitsu’s head shot up. Ah, “Kaburamaru,” he whispered; trying not to disrupt the sleeping servants on this floor “What are you doing here? Aren’t you cold?” The snake only hisses again; curling tightly around himself in the tiny corner he had found comfort in.  

Zenitsu’s feet were prickling with the turning weather of the autumn season and his breaths was puffing out into white clouds, so he couldn’t imagine Kaburamaru  finding himself content in this dreadful temperature. “You’re freezing aren’t you,” he mutters; quickly taking of his haori and sinking down onto his knees. “Here.” Pale yellow eyes stare into his soul and Zenitsu swallows down his unease. He’d never fully felt comfortable with the snake, but Kaburamaru has always been kind to him so- 

With another hiss, his new friend slithers on top of the patterned haori, and Zenitsu finds himself smiling down at him in relief before scooping the cloth and the reptile into his arms. “Let’s get out of here ok?” A gentle hiss and a white head on his shoulder makes the blonde relax a bit more as he gets back on his feet. “I guess you were cold after all,” he whispers; lifting two fingers to pat the snake while he begins to walk again. Kaburamaru shakes his head and ducks back into his arms, and Zenitsu laughs. It was funny how a reptile so scary looking could be so shy when it came to affection.  

No more surprises greet the in-training demon slayer after that. And while he is keeping up a quiet chatter with the snake resting on his chest, the teen finally makes it down to the first floor and looks around. “Hungry?” he asks. Kaburamaru says nothing, and Zenitsu hums in thought. “I guess me neither.” Frowning at the kitchen entrance one last time, he turns around to find Fuyoko-chan. If she was awake it would be fun to talk to her. They talked two days ago; it had been nice. Talking to her had felt like a weight coming of his shoulders. Fuyuko-chan had helped him remember the good times with gramps, hell even Kaigaku-senpai. And although it was late and most of everyone had gone to sleep, Zenitsu hoped he could find her still awake somewhere. 

He doesn’t find either masters of the house unfortunately and his shoulders fall in resignation. After looking for forever he’s just about to give up on seeing another living soul awake in this empty like manor, when he unintentionally passes Obanai-senpai's room. He wouldn’t have even noticed the fact, if Kaburamaru hadn’t hissed low from his throat when they were about to pass the open door. 

Zenitsu comes to an abrupt halt. Kaburamaru stills. The door was slightly ajar and try as he might, the teen couldn’t hear anyone inside, and how could he. It was almost midnight. And Obanai-senpai was probably outside training again. He’d done it during their whole week journey to this facility, and things weren’t probably different for him now either, which meant- 

He shouldn’t, but Zenitsu still finds himself gently pushing the door open and peeking in. “Oh,” he breaths as his gaze immediately zeroes in on the already packet bag and cleaned up room. Obanai-senpai was ready to leave any minute now and he hadn’t even said anything to him yet.  

‘Of course, he hasn’t,’ his thoughts whisper back viciously.‘You’re pathetic and a failure. Obanai-senpai doesn’t have to tell you anything because you’re not worthy.’  

It’s not a pleasant thought, but Zenitsu would be lying to himself if he said it didn’t ring true. The pillar didn’t owe him anything. Still- 

Frowning, he slams the door shut and stomps off. Sure Obanai-senpai didn’t owe him anything, but that didn’t mean he shouldn’t have the common decency to tell it to his face. Zenitsu knew he was going to be left behind, but couldn’t Obanai-senpai show him even a hint of respect and just tell him straight up? It’s not like he had promised  to train him or anything?  

For some reason; chest heaving and face flushed red, it bothers him that a man he barely had gotten to know is about to just drop him and leave him behind. And for some reason, it hurts. 

His temper tantrum of a walk leads him outside and- 

“Breath of The Serpent Second Form: Venom Fangs of the Narrow Head!”  

The one person he hadn’t wanted to see.  

The snake pillar looks elegant as he moves around the garden; sword held firmly between his fingers and breath steady as he meticulously runs through forms and compensates for his injured leg by barely putting any pressure on it. 

He looks like art. He sounds strong. He moves like a demon slayer. 

Watching him; even despite his injuries, move like he was born with a sword in his hands makes Zenitsu feel small where he stands; barely hidden behind the doorframe. He’s still holding Kaburamaru in his arms, but the familiar weight of the sword on his hip suddenly draws all his focus away from the self-pity in his gut and instead begins to burn viciously at his side. Burn as if it was mocking him for his weakness, for his lack of talent. 

Obanai-senpai never turns around to look at him; still going through the motions and keeping his eyes firmly faced forward, but his legs do shift when Zenitsu ducks down out of sight when the other man swings his sword too close to the door and his breath does stutter when Zenitsu lets out a surprised yelp; showing that he is indeed aware of the blonde’s presence. Still, he doesn’t call out to him. Doesn’t ask him to get out and train, and it makes Zenitsu grit his teeth, blink away the wetness in his eyes and stalk away from the older man. 

He didn’t need Obanai-senpai to teach him how to fight. He could learn it all on his own. So what if the pillar hadn’t asked him to train with him each time he’d stumbled across him practicing? So what if he hadn’t so much as acknowledged his presence during meal times? So what? He’d probably already given up on him and wasn’t ready to actually tell it to Zenitsu’s face and well, that just made Obanai-senpai even more pathetic than himself, the blonde decided. Gramps always said to show people a certain level of respect even if you didn’t think they deserved it, and clearly Obanai-senpai wasn’t even capable of that.  

Not only was he going to leave him, but he wasn’t even going to train him while he was still here? 

“Screw him,” he muttered; bringing the white snake closer to his chest. “I don’t need his useless training anyways.” 

“Is that why you have yet to join me in practice?” 

Zenitsu jumped, and screamed, and almost dropped poor Kaburamaru on the floor; making the snake hiss and climb up his shoulders in a flash. Swiveling around, he gaped at the demon slayer who had been standing behind him, arms crossed, and one eyebrow lifted to the sky. “Well?” 

Zenitsu was still trying to push his heart back into its former place where it had jumped out of in fear. “You scared me,” he shouted 

“Another reason why you’ll make a terrible demon slayer, but what else is new.” 

“What?” Unconsciously, he’d taken a small step back. Something his senpai clearly noticed, because it made his nose scrunch up and his head tilt down in disapproval. 

“I have given you several chances to come and join my training on your own, but you’re clearly not capable of making important decisions when left alone kid, so let’s go. I don’t wish to waste more time on you.” He beckons with his fingers as he turns away; almost expecting Zenitsu to just obediently trot along after him and maybe Zenitsu would have done so, but not today. 

“I won’t make a terrible demon slayer!” He said loudly instead; hands curled into balls and lips wobbling slightly. “Gramps said I would be great.” 

Obanai-senpai scoffs. He doesn’t even look back at him; continuing to walk as if Zenitsu wasn’t even worth his attention. “Kuwajima-san was too soft on you. I’m not here to sugarcoat anything for you Agatsuma. I will train you but I won’t tell you what a great job you’ve done when that’s clearly a lie.” 

It was as if his very own soul was being stricken down with the sharp side of a sword.  

“If you were going to train me, why didn’t you just tell me so!” Maybe this whole argument was stupid, maybe it was ridiculous in the large scheme of things, but Zenitsu didn’t care. Clearly Obanai-senpai wanted to pick a fight and good for him, because that’s exactly what Zenitsu wanted too. 

This time the snake pillar does turn around; glare firmly in place. Easy to spot even in the darkness only illuminated by the lights. “I don’t have to ask you for anything,” he said slowly; taking one and then two steps in Zenitsu’s direction. “You wanted me to train you, you show up and train. It’s that simple. Or,” his eyes narrow. “Do you expect me to run after you each time you decide you’re not good enough?” 

Zenitsu stumbles. “I-” 

An image of gramps flashes through his head. Gramps who constantly dragged him back by the scruff of his neck every time he’d tried to run away. Gramps ran after him. 

“I- that’s... I-” 

“Speak clearly brat.” 

“It’s-” 

[Do you expect me to run – do you expect me to run after – do you expect me to run after you ] 

His eyes water and his teeth shatter noisily. Almost as if ice had been breathed into his lungs and fire had been set to his feet. Obanai-senpai didn’t know. He didn’t know what those words ment so he couldn’t have understood. He couldn’t have and yet. “I never asked you to do that,” he whispers; legs shaking and fingers clutching at an empty haori. 

“No you didn’t.” The pillar relents. “That doesn’t mean you’re not running away. It doesn’t prevent the fact that you’re retreating whenever the going gets tough and that,” he points a finger at his chest. “Is what is going to prevent you from becoming a demon slayer.” 

Obanai-senpai was talking to him like a child. Like someone who didn’t understand the stakes of his own decision, of his own revenge. He wasn’t taking him seriously. 

‘Probably why he was planning on leaving me behind.’  

Hell, Zenitsu was almost sure all this was actually only an excuse for the man to wash his hands of him once and for all. Drop him off with Fuyuko-chan and her husband and walk away. All this pointed advance, it all meant nothing. 

It all made sense now. 

Excuses excuses. 

His heart pounded and Zenitsu felt his rage mounting, burning, consuming.  

Excuses. 

“You don’t want to help me,” he hissed; voice barely above a whisper, but Obanai-senpai had heard him loud and clear for his face twisted into a pale imitation of a surprise. 

Yeah right. 

“Stop talking nonsense brat.” 

“It’s true isn’t it?” 

“Kid.” 

“You are going to leave me behind, so what does it matter if I don’t show up to your stupid training!” 

The snake pillar doesn’t miss a beat. “If you want to stay alive, you train. It’s that simple. Revenge might not be in the cards for yo-” 

“You weren’t going to help me?” Zenitsu didn’t know why he went there. He didn’t know why he reached that specific conclusion, but it all made sense to him now. Why those words out of Obanai-senpai's mouth felt like earth shattering under his feet. “You weren’t going to help me get revenge for my family, were you?” 

Obanai-senpai blinks slowly. “I was at first,” he finally says; after a momentary silence. “But it’s clear you’re not ready for that yet. So-” 

“You never planned to help me?” He can’t seem to let it go. That one thing. That defining thing. 

The snake pillar sighs in exasperation; almost as if this whole situation is getting on his nerves. It makes Zenitsu’s insides bubble with rage.  

“I am helping you kid-” 

Maybe those words. 

Help  

Maybe that word, was what blew the lid of off Zenitsu’s sanity, because from one breath to the next, he chucked his  haori  with all his might at the man in front of him and screamed at the top of his lungs. “If you really wanted to help me! You would have saved gramps and Kaigaku on time! You would have saved everyone! But you didn’t! You didn’t! And I hate you! What’s the point of you being a pillar if you can’t even do that!” 

“I hate you!” 

He screams those words over and over again until hot tears are streaming down his cheeks and until Obanai-senpai has turned around and vanished into the house. “I hate you,” he screams at the top of his lungs and doesn’t mean it.  

Not really.  

It takes a while for him to calm down. No one comes out to talk to him and he’s grateful, if only a little. Obanai-senpai doesn’t come back out either. Zenitsu doesn’t really blame him. 

Standing back up, he starts walking; aimlessly and unsure. His whole-body aches and his mouth feels dry and raw. He keeps walking.  

“I was a jerk, wasn’t I,” he finally murmurs after walking for an hour or so; eyes trailing down the silent trees, face pinching up into an upset frown. “I was mean.” 

Kaburamaru hisses, and Zenitsu’s face falls. 

“I hate him,” he whispers; the wind carrying his words and leaving him with nothing. “And he hates me too.” 

The snake doesn’t say anything back to that; just curls tighter around his neck and falls still. 

Zenitsu mimics the reptile and drops to his knees under a tree; the mansion no longer visable from where his hiding himself under the shadows of the forest. “I wish you were here gramps. I really really wish you were here” 

He falls silent after that. Arm folded around his legs and face hiding in his knees. He is so preoccupied with his own misery he doesn’t really hear anything, nothing until it’s almost too late. 

The rustling tree leaves behind him are Zenitsu’s only warning before a sharp scream is torn from his lungs and he throws himself arms first into the forest floor and rolls away from the black nails aimed at his eyes.  

Blood trickling down his neck, he gurgles down the horrified screams trying to lash out from his throat and jumps back as the demon; for it could be nothing else takes a giant leap towards him and swings his arms at him again. He’s barely able to dodge this second blow; not even having a chance to reach for his sword as he lifts a shaking hand up to his left ear and comes away with a sticky red mess and some twisted flesh on the palm of his hand. 

Kaburamaru hisses and Zenitsu looks at him with worry. If he is hurt then- 

But thankfully the snake has relocated himself to his right side and nothing more than a slight gash of red indicates how close his new friend had gotten to getting slashed in two.  

“Demon slayer,” the giant of a demon chuckles. “It’s time to die.” 

Chapter Text

One hand was painted red, one arm was carrying the weight of an injured snake and two eyes were staring down death itself, and there was nothing Zenitsu could tell his legs to convince them move an inch. He was locked in place. Not by a spell, not by some trap, but by sheer and utter terror. He couldn’t move; Kaburamaru was hissing furiously into his right ear, but- 

How hadn’t he noticed. The mansion. It was long out of sight. He’d walked away, walked for almost an hour. Of course, he was outside the wisteria tree limit. Why hadn’t he - even the colors, they were different. It had been too dark, but he should’ve noticed. He should have noticed, damn it! 

“Scared little slayer?”  

The giant had a surprisingly skinny voice and Zenitsu would have laughed at the weirdness of the thin voice coming out of such a burly figure, if death itself wasn’t trapped in his lungs, so all he could do was whimper with fright and stumble back. 

“Don’t worry tiny,” the demon guffs. “I’ll kill you and feast on you real quick. I’m real generous like that.” He grins and then he’s moving again; knees bent in a weird running formation and fingertips touching the grass bellow and he’s off. 

Zenitsu barely has breath between two blinks before he is; without much thinking, throwing himself under the arm swung at him to slice of his head and rolling back onto his feet a couple of steps away from the demon. 

He doesn’t even get the chance to calm his stammering heart down however, before a shadow falls over him again and pain blooms like burning stakes across his chest. Gasping he stumbles back; arm circling his torn open chest and eyes wide and swimming in tears. 

He was going to die. 

He was going to die, wasn’t he? 

Not a moment longer and he’s again getting slammed with twice his weight across his chest and, he hears something snap, and then he’s flying headfirst into the nearest tree in the area. Zenitsu has barely any reason or logic left in his brains at this point, the pain having washed it all away, but thankfully... Maybe it’s instinct? He finds himself without thinking; swinging his body around and just in time protecting his skull with the back end of his right shoulder.  

Gagging at the momentary throb of pain that writhes through his flesh, Zenitsu is up and running again long before his mind has even caught up to his body. Survival instincts mixed with sheer and utter fear coursing through his veins and it’s all the blonde can do to keep a lid on his emotions as he runs and runs and screams at the top of his lungs for someone, for anyone to please come and save him. Gramps is the only name tumbling out of his mouth as he zigzags through the tall shadowy trees. But- “Obanai-senpai!” He once screams; blood and tears spilling down his face.  “Obanai-senpai! Please!” 

He doesn't know for how long he runs; he only knows that he’s running away from the safety of the wisteria trees and away from the monster, and it both terrifies him and makes him want to run for all of eternity. 

Zenitsu doesn’t stop until he can’t hear the chill inducing laughter of the demon anymore, and only then does he crumble under a tree and shakes with such lack of control that Kaburamaru eventually slithers of his body and just stares at his wide-eyed figure. Zenitsu doesn’t care. He doesn’t care because he knows he’s going to die, and they are both going to die and no one will come to save them and he was bleeding, of course the demon would find him and – and – and he was going to  die . 

Grabbing at his hair with both fists, he tugs and tugs and chews his lips raw as waves of tears spill down his bruised cheeks. “I can’t do this Kaburamaru!” He mumbles; voice stuttering in his throat and face so ashen and grey it makes the blood stand out stark against his skin. “We’re going to die. We’re going to die and I can’t do anything. Oh God. Oh God. OhGodohGodohGod. Why did I walk away,” now his ramblings aren’t even above a whisper anymore; sounding both thick and terrifyingly thin. “Is this karma? Am I going to die because I lived and everyone else suffered and-” 

Burying his head in his knees, his shoulders shake, and his clammed-up lips are barely holding back a sob.  

A roar is heard in the distance and Zenitsu’s whole body freezes. Holding his breath; eyes staring at his legs, he listens. The roar, it’s drawing nearer and nearer and- 

This... This was it. It was all over. He – he was going to die. By the hands of some lower ranked demon and fuck revenge. He hadn’t even made it a month without gramps, how pathetic was that. How sad.  

Another roar. This one much closer. 

He hadn’t even gotten the chance to apologize to Obanai-senpai. Why the hell had he been so mean in the first place? It’s not like senpai wouldn’t have saved everyone if he could. He had known gramps too and... He’d saved him right? So, with a hiccup Zenitsu buries his face even further into his knees. He’d walked away too far. No one was going to find him out here. Alone and afraid and soon to be dead. 

Tears started flowing all over again and damn it. How pathetic. 

A roar. 

He flinches. At least he was going to reunite with gramps and Kaigaku-senpai and- 

[NEVER GIVE UP]  

It was as if an electric current suddenly jolted into every nerve in his body and sent it ablaze. 

Gramps  

[NEVER GIVE UP]  

How could he just- 

Clenching his fists and gritting his teeth, Zenitsu tried to steady his erratic breathing. Gramps had said... He had said that it was ok to run away it was ok to cry but – to give up? Gramps had never taught him that and- 

Raising a shaky arm to his eyes, Zenitsu rubbed away the wetness as best as he could and took a deep and steading breath.  

It was only one demon. It didn’t look all that powerful and he’d been training. Training with Obanai-senpai. He was going to be a demon slayer and avenge his family and make Obanai-senpai proud so, how could he lose here? 

This was his story wasn’t it? His mission. His life. What kind of hero died in the prologue? 

“We’re going to be fine Kaburamaru-san. You’re going to be ok.” Reaching out with a poorly wiped away red finger, he pets the snake head gently. “I’m not going to let you die. I’m sorry I scared you like that.” If his finger is shaking as he does this, if his voice wobbles as he speaks, Kaburamaru doesn’t let him know, only nuzzles into the palm of his hand and hisses. Almost as if to say- 

Zenitsu grins; teeth coated with dirt and flecks of blood. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. But-” Here he rises back up to his feet, using the tree as a support, knowing the shallow cuts running diagonally from his hip and up to his right shoulder are making his vision blurry, he tries his hardest to blink away the dizziness and sharpen his senses. 

The demon is still drawing near. He was close now. Too close. 

“I need you to hide Kaburamaru-san. You can’t come with me.” 

The snake doesn’t seem to like that idea at all, but Zenitsu is determined this time and his friend seems to sense that, because he puts his head down and hisses softly. “I’m sorry,” the blonde mutters in apology; scooping the snake up and lifting him to the nearest branch; wincing as he does so. “I wish I could hide here with you too. I really really do.” 

With his friend securely hiding behind the leaves of the enormous tree, Zenitsu finally takes the time to look over his injures; they are painful, but his speed had allowed the wounds to be shallow at best, and with another steadying breath, he finally circles his hand around his sword hilt and drags it out.  

Balancing the sword between his palms he shifts on his feet. The only thing he hadn’t let himself look at was his ear. He knew that - shaking his head, he banished that thought to the back of his mind. Some of it was still there, that’s all he could focus on right now, so- 

He could do this. 

Till Obanai-senpai came to his rescue. Till Kaburamaru was safe. He could do this. 

So his legs move this time, and he is running. 

Not away from the danger, but towards it. Towards the demon who’d promised him death. 

Still, no amount of diluted bravery was going to make him confront a psycho demon head on, so with a determined glint in his eyes, he crouches down low and pushes off the ground with all his might; hanging in the air for less than a split second, before he descends down on a treetop, pulling himself behind its shadows to await his hunter.  

The demon doesn’t disappoint. Showing up just a second after Zenitsu had disappeared in the leaves. “I can smell you baby slayer,” he whistles. “Come out so I can eat you!” 

Zenitsu doesn’t want to. He's scared. He can’t hide that fact from himself. Not when his body is still vibrating with barely contained terror and his sword is clinking to its hilt because of his shaking hand, and yet, the demon is almost directly below him. Failing to act now would be- 

He doesn’t want to, but then gramps warm smile flashes through his head and it slowly morphs into the mutilated corpse of the man he once knew. 

Teeth clenching to the point of creaking, the grieving boy drops down from the sky, sword swinging down in a sharp motion and mouth drawn into a sneer of hatred.  

Reckless for sure, but when he brings down the sharp side of his trusted blade at the demon’s neck, all he could see was red. Red blood, red rage, red vengeance.  

Red. 

The demon screams and it almost tears Zenitsu’s eardrops apart. Listen. Obanai-senpai had said. Time and time again. Even flicking him harshly on the forehead whenever he caught him slacking off, well now that needed skill almost burned his ears out permanently. And the blonde is quick to swallow down the bile swimming in his throat as he shuts all his senses down and jams the sword even further into the demon’s neck. 

“Cut,” he hisses; tears already leaking from both corners of his eyes. “Cut damn it! Please cut.” 

But it doesn’t and again, he’s gripped by the scruff of his neck and flung headfirst into a tree. It’s all Zenitsu can do to grabble for his sword and thankfully drag it out of the beast’s neck but that costs him his focus and he slams harshly into the tree.  

The world tilts out of view for a second and then comes back. 

Thank God. 

Chopping someone’s neck halfway did make their aim and strength slightly off. 

Zenitsu doesn’t have enough time to contemplate that fact however, not when claws are darting for his face and he blinks in panic; swinging himself behind the tree and ducking with a scream as barks fly everywhere. Tree now cut in half. 

“Think you can take me brat!” 

No, not really. 

“I can and I will!” He screams at the top of his lungs; his eyes as wide as two dinner plates. “Please don’t kill me!” He follows that declaration up with; throwing himself again out of the way. His speed being the only thing saving his uncertain and highly unguaranteed life now. “Please demon-san! Please!” 

Why did he even think he could do this? 

Running behind another tree, he climbs as high as he can. Only to jump into another one when it too was torn in half. 

His only chance was gone, so what could he possibly- 

[NEVER GIVE UP!]  

“I know!” He screams. Why couldn’t gramps just leave him alone! 

He was going to die. Die die die die die. 

But- 

Pausing on top of a branch, Zenitsu stares at the terrifying being below him and thinks. 

“If I’m going to die anyways,” he mutters; tears still not having stopped falling. “Then I have nothing left to lose.” 

Blinking down at his sword his lips draw into a thin line and he tries to pull out all the flecks of bravery left in his barren soul and concentrate. “Listen,” Obanai-senpai had said. “Never forget to listen. If you do, you will be able to predict their moves long before they do them.” 

‘Listen.’  

Closing his eyes he does what he’d been doing all these days. But better. More concentrated. More focused. It was as if anything and everything in the entire world had just vanished and he was only left with his own erratic breathing and the wheezing sound of the demon. He could hear him. 

Hear his blood thirsty thoughts. Hear his body movement, his heartbeat, his toes curling and uncurling, his- 

Zenitsu could hear everything. 

Dropping down from the tree, he lands gently on the ground; eyes still closed, his sword pointing at the beast’s chest.  

“Let’s finish this.” 

The monster laughs and charges, but Zenitsu is ready for him this time- 

It was as if he knew what the demon was going to do, before he did it and he acted. Sliding out the way of the grab, he brought his arms down and sliced at the arm. It wasn’t fully cut off, but the demon mustn't have expected it, because it howled and drew back. Zenitsu didn’t let it; closing the gap between them quickly and swinging his sword outward.  

It barely missed the demon by an inch. He swings again. This time catching the monster on the flank. Zenitsu’s movements are slowing down with each swing; blood loss making him more and more sluggish, but he had this. He could do this and finally finally he- 

“Enough of this!” The demon growls, and suddenly it is as if the air itself is vibrating with tension. The blonde pales. No, it couldn’t be. No 

Power surges through the giant and with a cruel tilt of his lips; something Zenitsu is barely able to catch as his eyes fling open in horror, the demon spreads his arms open and shouts. 

“Blood demon art: Dancing illusions!”  

Chapter Text

The whole world shift in one breath.  

From one blink to the next, Zenitsu’s vision is covered in horrors he’d never laid eyes on before. Dead corpses, mutilated bodies, flesh of rotten humans. The stink, oh the stink. 

He wretches. Clamping a hand over his nose and his eyes tear up. What was this? What was going on? How... How could any of this be real, and the dead- 

They looked so familiar, they- 

“Interesting,” he hears; the demon’s whispering voice breaking him out of his momentary stupor. “So, this is your biggest nightmare little child.” 

Zenitsu doesn’t know what to say. “Where,” he stutters; frantically looking around, trying his hardest not to gaze upon the corpses strewed at his feet. “Where are you?”  

All the confidence he had so desperately accumulated in his brief moment of bravery had suddenly forsaken him; falling out of his pockets as fear slowly began to drown him all over again. “Where are you?” he screams; backing away from the hideous sight in front of him and stumbling upon a puddle. A red puddle. When his eyes finally fall onto the floor. 

Oh God 

He was going to be sick. 

And then- 

They moved. The corpses. The dead, they – He wanted to scream, cry, maybe curl up and hide in a corner till someone finally came to save him because- 

The corpses, the too familiar corpses of people... People he knew. They were.... Oh God. 

“Please,” he muttered; taking a clumsy step back, hands still shakingly holding onto his sword as bodies came to. “Please stop. Please.” 

From the very corner of his eye he could see him. Gramps, he could see him. But... How could it be him. He’d buried him. He’d buried them all. 

“Please.” The pleading in his voice being drowned out by the groans and echoing suffering all around him. Drowned out by the foul stench of the dead, and Zenitsu couldn’t help it. Couldn’t help the tears that streamed down his bloody cheeks as if to add a new testament to his suffering. “I can’t... I – I can’t fight you... Please Nahara-san,” Because the young woman approaching him was definitely the fair maiden of their village. Nahara-san. How cruel. For someone to bring her back for her to- 

Nothing that came out of his mouth seemed to resound with her and in a split second she was upon him; arms slashing wide and mouth gnawing for the taste of his flesh. 

Yelping, he stumbled back even further, only to- 

Screaming, Zenitsu jumps away from the man who’d come up behind him; one hand abandoning his sword to press against the deep cut inflicted on him by - “Kaigaku-senpai?” The words don’t come out louder than a whisper, but they come out none the less, breathless and unsure and his uncertainty making the demon laugh even harder, the blonde teen tries his best not to cry. 

Zenitsu couldn’t see the demon, couldn’t see anything outside of the horrible vision in front of his eyes, but he could hear him, hear him loud and clear.  

“Stop this!” He screams; eyes still refusing to rest on the old man charging at him. Jumping into the air, he tries to put some distance between the animated corpses and himself, but – something is in his way, because with a harsh gasp he found himself colliding against a tree truck. 

A tree truck he can’t see with his eyes 

Oh 

Oh 

Illusion. This was all an illusion wasn't it, but- 

How could illusions hurt anyone? How could the demon make his dead family hurt him? How? 

Kaigaku-senpai attacks again; this time flanked on either side by Mori-san and gramps, making Zenitsu’s poor attempt to avoid head on confrontation impossible.  

He takes the hits; as non-vitaly as possible, but he takes them. 

Gasping, the blonde crumbles to the ground, wounds bleeding as very real injuries pile up to make even the ability to stand on two feet impossible. 

The demon is still laughing again and Zenitsu could feel the agonizing desperation of hopelessness crawling itself into all corners of his mind. He couldn’t win this. That was obvious. How had he for even a second thought- 

No, don’t even go there.  

Clenching sweaty palms around his sword even firmer, the blonde teen took  a deep steading breath and tried to keep his eyes on every illusion in front of him. 

[ NEVER GIVE UP ] 

Gramps had said that to him. Had said it over and over again, and gramps... Gramps always looked out for him, even in death, so... There must be a trick to all this, right? 

How could illusions hurt him? How had he yet to see the demon? How? 

In hindsight, it should have been obvious, but Zenitsu honestly didn’t care about hindsight or other such bullshits. If he survived this, he was going to kiss every freaking wisteria tree in the world. That was a promise, but- 

For now, 

Oh 

He knew... It was so obvious when he took real time to think about it. 

The demon, he was hiding behind the illusions, wasn’t he? That’s why the attacks were only coming from one direction. He was playing with his mind and while he was distracted, the demon would strike him down. It was so obvious now and yet... Just because he knew now didn’t mean he could fight it. Just because he knew didn’t mean he could suddenly fight a full-fledged demon with a demon art this powerful, and he was already bleeding all over the place.  

Zenitsu could honestly die here, today, right here and now. He could die. 

…. 

Or he could not 

He doesn’t know where the idea strikes him, but between running away from deadly illusions and trying to keeps his vital organs from spilling out of his body, a brief moment of past event suddenly flares up behind his eyes, and Zenitsu almost faceplants at the jarring memory; barely stopping himself from halting in his run, but- 

He remembers. 

A time, a time Kaigaku-senpai had been kind. Before Zenitsu had become a serious contender to replace gramps too, Kaigaku-senpai had been kind. Willing to help him out albeit reluctantly and sometimes even dishing out sincere advice.  

‘You can still use the breath of thunder to defend yourself even if you can’t fully wield it as a weapon yet,’ his senpai had said once; leaning against a tree as he observed Zenitsu fail yet again at getting even the basic of the forms down. 

‘What do you mean senpai,’ he’d asked; eyes brimming with frustrating tears and bottom lips wobbling. 

His senpai had sighed. ‘Come here.’ 

He did and Kaigaku-senpai reached out for the blonde’s training sword; covering Zenitsu’s smaller hands with his own larger once. “You don’t need to control electricity to let it out,” he muttered; fingers sparkling lightly where they were resting atop of Zenitsu. 

“I don’t understand senpai,” His eyes had been wide with wonder watching the lightning sparkle and crackle between them, and Kaigaku-senpai had chuckled. It sounded nice and Zenitsu found himself smiling back in happiness.  

“Let me show you-” 

That memory. 

It was probably one of the most pleasant memories he had of his senpai. Swallowing down the bitter emotions that suddenly snuck up on him, Zenitsu came to a screeching halt and whirled his body around to face his assailants.  

Kagaku-senpai might be gone now, but- 

Affirming his stance, spreading his feet apart and taking a deep breath, Zenitsu closed his eyes. 

Kaigaku-senpai might be gone, but what he taught him, it was still there and Zenitsu just needed to time it right. Just right. 

“I see you’ve stopped running!” The demon’s voice was drawing near and with it the animated-illusionary corpses. “Good, it’s time to die!” 

‘No,’  Zenitsu thought; eyes still firmly closed as he tried to listen for every movement, every tense muscle, every heartbeat.‘No, it’s not over yet.’  

And with that he let the burning feeling dancing through his veins buzz all across his skin and sparkle into something dangerous, heaving a giant crackling nightmare of lightning thunder across his entire body and the demon illusions didn’t have a chance to get out of his personal space before the lightening surrounding his body like a shield snapped at their feet; burning them up and making the demon hiding behind them scream in agony. 

Zenitsu’s eyes snap open and he manages to witness the giant of a demon stumbling back away from him; burned flesh healing up slowly, but the shock in his face lingering.  

The blonde would have laughed himself hoarse if- 

Dropping down to his own knees, Zenitsu heaves a choking breath; blood trickling down his chin as rivers of red, paint the ground under him scarlet. “Damn it,” he hisses; arms coming up to his chest futilely to stave of the blood loss, but how could he stop all that blood, how could he – His vision begins to darken and Zenitsu knows without a shadow of a doubt that if he loses consciousness here, he might never wake up again, so he shakes it of as feebly as he can; coughing painfully the whole time. 

The demon seems to have gathered himself in that little time it took for Zenitsu to not die, and the teen finds himself cursing the unfair ability of healing. How was that right, he could have won if, if life had just been fair? The monster probably realized it too, because he started to laugh again. His body was still stuttering to a stop every other step, but the malicious glee that had been burning so fierce in the beast’s heart had again been rekindled. “You did well brat,” he smirks; Zenitsu can barely keep him in sight. “But it’s too bad that your body wasn’t designed to be better-” 

There are no more room for words after that, and the demon advances on him. Zenitsu was ashamed to say that tears started to fall again. He was scared, terrified. This was his final moment and he didn’t want it to be. Didn’t want to die like this. Not before he’d done everything he’d promised himself to do. Not before he avenged his family, not before – and yet... This was it. Still; gripping his sword tighter, he raises his head high. His body is still shaking something fierce and his eyes are too blurry from being abused with tears and his nose is stuffy from the snot dripping down his face, but – for everyone that ever believed in him, even a little – he was going to keep his head high. He wasn’t going to die a coward. Never. 

The demon must have seen something in his face because he grins and nods down at him, and maybe that should have been enough, and, it is, so he breaths and puffs out his chest. It was goodbye- 

Or he thought it was but in the next second; just as the arm was about to strike him down, another body collided with the demon, feet first and the giant of a monster flew away with that single blow to where the eyes couldn’t see.  

Jumping once and then twice to steady himself, Obanai-senpai came to a stop in front of him, his back turned.  

“I’m sorry I’m late kid.” 

“Obanai-sen...pai?  

Obanai-senpai, because damn him! It was his senpai, turns around to stare at him with the blankest of expressions. His left eye is shadowed in blood, his lip is busted, and his uniform is torn in several places. “I was held up,” his senpai says. “Lower moon three was giving me some trouble, I apologize for not having made it to you in time.” 

“I-” Zenitsu doesn’t even know if he is sobbing or laughing or doing a mix of both, because oh God, he was here. His senpai, his mentor – he was here, and he wasn’t going to let Zenitsu die and- 

“I’m so-sorry for what I said earlier!” He screams; one hand coming up to rub at his tear stained face. “I didn’t mean to tell you that – I... I was just angry senpai! And... and... I didn’t want to die before I got to say... I’m - I’m sorry senpai!”  

Each word is wretched out of his lungs in a chaotic wave of emotional instability but whatever he must have spluttered must have had some semblance of coherency because the mismatched eyes facing him soften at the corners and the blankness of Obanai-senpai's expression eases up a bit. “I believe you brat. Now get yourself together. I didn’t have the chance to defeat the lower moon before I figured you were in trouble, so we’re about to face two demons rather than one.” 

Zenitsu nods. “Okay. Okay.” 

Obanai-senpai nods back, and then a shadow falls from the sky; landing gracefully on the destroyed ground under him, and he is quickly followed by the giant leaping back intro the fray.  

The snake pillar shifts himself just so, his body now covering Zenitsu’s own from view. “So, you found me again,” he mutters; voice both dull and wholly unimpressed.  

The demon glares. “You will not get away from me this time snake pillar.” 

His senpai swings his sword around; fingers nibble and casual. “I wasn’t planning to. Just needed to make sure my student hadn’t died a grizzly death while I was busy ending your miserable life.” The demon snares at that; left eye glowing with a prominent number.  

“You won’t be laughing when I am done with you,” he hisses; chest fully bare except for the several tiny knifes strapped to a belt crisscrossing his shoulders and waist. “I will get my number back! By killing you, I shall prove that the newbie has no right to rise above me in rank! Has no right to be the number two when I’m still here!” 

Obanai-senpai sighs again. “If you didn’t like it you should have killed it.” Tensing his shoulders, he aims his sword at the short demon’s chest. “Now I’ll be taking your life if you don’t mind. 

Chapter Text

When Obanai-senpai moved, Zenitsu couldn’t follow him with his eyes anymore. It was as if the ground under the man itself was made of air, and Zenitsu could do nothing more but put some semblance of pressure on his deepest cuts and stare after the blurry figure currently keeping himself between Zenitsu and the two demons hellbent on killing them both. 

‘I should help', he though; slowly sliding down the tree, breaths coming out in  ragged  puffs of vibrations. 'I need to get up and... I need to help him'.  

But try as he might, he just couldn’t push his feet under him and along with his blood loss his consciousness was starting to slip too. No, he couldn’t afford to black out now. He could die! And if he did, who did Obanai-senpai come all the way here to save? If he died Obanai-senpai wouldn’t even have someone to bring his corps back to since his family were- 

Shaking his head furiously, the blonde teen cut of the thought before it even had a chance to take root. No time for that. No time for that at all. He just needed to get up and do something, anything.  

Suddenly the space before him shifted and out of thin air Obanai-senpai reappeared, dropping low and swinging his leg outward to sweep the feet under the demon who’d just appeared a second after. He missed, but the blade he struck out against the demon’s shoulder hit its mark. Both monster and pillar hissed in unison and to Zenitsu’s shock, an almost perfect punctuation wound; replica of the one the demon was currently sporting suddenly appeared on his senpai’s previously injury free shoulder.  

The lower moon laughed and threw a handful of knives in their direction as he jumped backwards; putting some distance between himself and them.  

Obanai-senpai managed to deflect all but one, and the minute the tiny blade cut a thin line just under his eye, an equally thin and bloodied line appeared down the demon’s own cheek. 

What the hell? 

“Senpai?”  

“I know.” 

“But how?” His words came out more like a wail, because how was this fair? For some reason this demon was able to inflict wounds on Obanai-senpai without even touching him and how could that even be? It was as if any damage either of them took, both of them suffered. Was it- 

“It’s his demon art.” The snake pillar answered as if he’d read his thoughts. He was looking away from him again, eyes resting squarely on the two demon’s no farther than a couple of feats away. “Something about damned souls.” The older male didn’t sound very happy about their current situation either. “Any injury on me is an injury on him and any injury on him is an injury on me, which wouldn’t be a problem,” his senpai said slowly; lifting one eyebrow as he took a quick peek back at him. “If-” 

“If he couldn’t heal unlike you,” Zenitsu finished the sentence, chills running down his spine because this was bad, really really bad. 

Obanai-senpai nodded but then he shook his head. “I don’t have a problem with that either. Not as much as you think I do.” 

“You don’t?” The blonde had no idea how he even had enough energy left to keep up with Obanai-senpai's conversation. The pillar shook his head.  

“Strength wise, I can kill him easily. But cutting of his head means cutting of mine.” 

Blinking, Zenitsu smacked his lips twice; sensing how sluggish he was starting to feel. “That’s going to be a problem,” he muttered. Panic might or might not have been climbing up his spine, but honestly, he wasn’t sure he cared much about anything at this point. Everything felt just too heavy. Just too hot, too suffocating. Obanai’s eyes narrowed as he closely trailed his gaze up and down Zenitsu’s body.  

“You need medical help brat.” 

The blonde only nodded, and that seemed to tell the older what he needed to know, because in the next second he was three steps into a run, blade swinging dangerously near the giant’s throat. The demon ducked out of the way and Obanai-senpai caught his own body out on a back spring with one hand and straightened himself out five steps away from the demon, just to flatten himself across the floor immediately after as three sets of knives impaled against the tree behind him.  

Zenitsu heard him curse softly under his breath and it made him wince. Obanai-senpai's movements were a lot less sharp then they should be and it was clear his leg wound most have reopened at some point, because there was no way his senpai in full fit condition would have missed that opportunity to cut of that demon’s head. No way. 

“Pathetic,” the lower moon hissed. Surprisingly, it wasn’t directed at either of the demon slayers. No, the shorter demon’s glare was solely fixed on the now cowering giant. “What reason were you assigned to me again for?” Every word held spite and by the way the lower moon was looking up at his fellow demon in disgust, he didn’t think much of him. 

Throwing himself on the ground, the giant; the same giant that had made Zenitsu’s life a living hell moments ago, was now shaking by the feet of a monster half his size. “I’m sorry,” he whined; forehead pressed with such a force into the ground it left a dent. “I promise I can prove myself. Just give me a chance sir! One chance!” 

The lower moon lifted his foot and stepped on his head; pushing giant’s face even further into the dirt. “Don’t disappoint me.”  

Nodding vigorously, the giant didn’t make a move until his superior had stepped back and given him the space he needed to stand up again.  

“I won’t let you down,” he mumbled as he pushed himself back to his full height. No more chance for a conversation was permitted as Obanai-senpai was on them again, kicking the lower moon away and slicing the giant’s arm clean off. A startled sound escaped passed the lower moon; not expecting to be ignored for a lesser demon.  

“Bambo,” he barked, somersaulting and landing on his feet. “Do something.” 

The giant nodded and Zenitsu frowned. He was going to do something, something- 

His eyes widened and he opened his mouth to call out to Obanai-senpai because damn it, blood loss was no excuse to be sloppy. Unfortunately, his body didn’t feel the same. The minute he tried to speak, his throat convulsed and wheezing Zenitsu couldn’t help but start coughing. Chest rattling he clamped a hand over his mouth and tried not to hack out his lungs. His vision was blurring something dangerous and it was only his meticulous hearing ability that allowed him to notice the diversion of Obanai-senpai’s attention and the demon took advantage of that split second of momentary slip in focus to use his demon art. 

“Blood demon art: Dancing illusions!”    

“No,” Zenitsu coughed, but for the life of him he couldn’t say anything, couldn’t warn Obanai-senpai, and as his vision evened out he noticed the moment the older man was caught in whatever nightmarish illusions Bambo had bestowed upon him.  “No,” he whispered coughing even harder. “No.” 

Obanai-senpai had frozen where he had crouched down to charge into another fight. His face had grown pale and and – was he shaking?  

Zenitsu couldn’t stop coughing, couldn’t breathe but – he needed to do something! Anything, because Obanai-senpai wasn’t supposed to look scared, not ever. Not for as long as Zenitsu had known him and right now, that’s exactly how he looked. Eyes wide and fingers just loosely holding up his sword. He looked like he had one foot in the grave. Whatever he was seeing what doing a number on him. 

This was bad. 

Lower three approached Obanai-senpai slowly, and – Obanai-senpai flinched; taking three giant steps backward and bringing up one arm to press up against the bandages over his mouth. 

“Oh,” the demon said, coming to a stop and grinning like the cat who’d gotten the canary. “How fascinating. Bambo what are you showing him?” 

Bambo didn’t answer. Instead he staggered away from the lower moon and collapsed against the nearest tree he could find. “I’m sorry sir,” he mumbled; fingers clutching against his bloated head. “He’s not letting me see. He's fighting me. I-” suddenly he turned on his side and wretched.  

“But your illusions?” The lower moon waved with his arm in Obanai’s direction. “It works?” 

The giant nodded. “I just can’t get into his head,” he gasped. “Can’t go in there and manipulate it. He’s being crippled by what he’s seeing. Must be powerful stuff.” 

“Indeed.”  The short man sounded so gleeful it sent chills down Zenitsu’s spine and God, he couldn’t let things end like this. Obanai-senpai he- 

“Senpai,” he screamed suddenly; surprising himself along with the two demons. “It’s not real senpai!” His chest was burning. “Snap out of it!” His throat was tightening. “It’s not real!” He couldn’t breathe. “Senpai!” 

It didn’t work. It didn’t do anything and all Zenitsu could do was scream in horror when the lower moon backhanded the snake pillar so hard he flew into the deep covers of the forest. 

“Senpai! Sen-” He swallowed the rest of the words as the lower moon was suddenly standing only a hairbreadth away from him.  

“Hello little boy,” he smiled. 

Zenitsu whimpered. 

The demon smiled even wider. “So you’re the boy he’s been trying to protect all this time. Are you grateful?” 

Zenitsu nodded. Not trusting himself to make any coherent sentences.  

“How precious.” 

He was going to die. 

“How wonderful. To have that kind of trust.” The demon crouched down in front of him. Making sure they were at eye level with each other. “I wish I had that kind of trust in someone else. But alas,” reaching out a hand he pressed it gently against Zenitsu’s cheek. It was cold. Zenitsu didn’t dare to move away. So he sat there and stared. “I don’t have anyone like that.” 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered; eyes wide and voice shaky. The demon chuckled.  

“You have nothing to apologize for child.” The cold fingers slowly moved down his face and circled around his neck. “Nothing to apologize for at all.” 

This would be it for Zenitsu but- 

He saw the minute the demon’s expression changed from faux gentleness to shocked surprise. It was as if the moment had been slowed down just for his own enjoyment and that split second of widened eyes and dented cheek as Obanai-senpai's legs connected with the demon’s face, was probably going to be the single moment of this night that Zenitsu was going to treasure with savage amount of glee. The lower moon was flung away from the blonde. One moment he was there and in the next his head was stuck through a tree and his arms were twitching fiercely by his side. 

“Obanai-senpai,” Zenitsu breathed; not believing his own eyes. 

His senpai still looked dead inside; gaze not focused on anything and face still pale as a ghost but he was here. 

“Obanai senpai?” 

The older male didn’t look at him. Just reached around his own neck to untie his bandages. The action was meticulous and precise if not for the uncontrollable shaking. As it came off, he threw them around his eyes instead and swiftly tied it back around his head. His upper half face now covered with thick white cloth and his mouth and cheeks completely visible for the whole world to see. 

Zenitsu hadn’t noticed it before, hadn’t really payed much attention, but- 

Tiny whitened scars littered all around his senpai’s mouth. They were obviously old, but to see those little bumps across his lips, it was – disturbing. 

“Senpai?” 

Ignored again, but at least now the older man looked a bit less tense. Slight color had come back to his face and the shaking was slowly subsiding. It was as if by taking away his own ability to see whatever horrors lay before him, Obanai-senpai could finally get the situation under control. 

“Agatsuma.” 

He flinched in surprise. “Yes?” 

“Be ready to swap.” The snake pillar didn’t say anything else before he was off again. Battling the two demons with a new bouts of energy. His leg was slowing him down and not being able to see didn’t help, plus the whole cannot chop of the demon’s head bit, but Obanai-senpai was still holding his own and with a quick spin of his heels, the snake pillar was behind the lower moon and he took that opportunity to grab the demon by the arms and kick him harshly in the back. Zenitsu could hear the ugly snap from all the way on the other side and he winced as the demon screamed.  

Dropping the now broken armed demon, Obanai-senpai stepped back and lifted his sword in the air. 

“Fool,” the lower moon screamed as Bambo quickly got out of the way. “If you kill me you’ll die too!” 

Obanai-senpai nodded. “I know. Breath of The Serpent Fifth Form: Slithering Serpent”  

Both demons flinched back, but strangely enough, it wasn’t aimed at them. No, the snake pillar targeted the ground with his attack and as dust rose between them and obscured their visions, he vanished from his position and reappeared next to Zenitsu.  

“Your sword brat. Give it to me.” 

“You can’t! He-” 

Obanai-senpai's eyes were still covered but the blonde could still feel the heated glare directed at him all the same. “It’s my sword his ability is connected with or I wouldn’t have been able to inflict any damage on him, so your sword.” He beckoned his fingers at impatiently “Now.” Zenitsu picked it up from the patch of grass next to him and handed it over. 

“Be careful?” 

His senpai scoffed. “It’s you that need to worry. I will kill the lower moon and then the grunt. Don’t let your guard down.” 

It was a clear warning as any that Obanai-senpai wouldn’t be able to keep an eye out for him now. Not now when he was aiming for the kill on a lower moon and one of his senses were cut off. 

Zenitsu nodded and then quickly muttered “I understand,” when it occurred to him that Obanai-senpai wouldn’t be able to see his action. 

“Good,” and again the man was gone. It only took Zenitsu a second to notice that his senpai had left his own sword with him.  

“Oh,” he mumbled; reaching out for it and trailing the tip of his finger over the blade. Maybe Obanai-senpai didn’t like having a sword hanging on his side while fighting but it was still nice to know he trusted him with his own.  

A scream suddenly rang out across the forest and Zenitsu’s head snapped up to look. The lower moon who’d been nothing short of obnoxiously confident all night was staring down in horror at his two severed arms. “How dare you!” He screeched. “How could you? My demon art. My blood demon art!” 

It was then he must have noticed the sword because the outrage was quickly switched out in exchange for fear. “No,” he said, stumbling back. “No.” 

Obanai-senpai just reaffirmed his grip around his new sword and prepared himself to strike. 

“No nononono,” the lower moon hissed. “Blood demon art: Kidnapped so-” 

“Breath of The Serpent Second Form: Venom Fangs of the Narrow Head!”     

Head was cut lean of and it rolled onto the forest floor with a silent thud. 

It was over. 

Or it should have been if not for the dark shadow that fell suddenly fell over the blonde. Apparently for a giant, this demon was really good at sneaking up on Zenitsu. He should have been scared. He felt scared maybe looking up at the angry demon snarling down at him, but – he just felt so tired and everything was blending together from the corner of his eyes. His vision finally fading into black at the same instance Bambo reached out to probably kill him. 

Huh 

He was going to die? Was he already dead? Who was left to mourn him?  

It didn’t matter either way. To go out like this? It wasn’t so bad and besides, he always had nice dreams. Dreams where he was strong and powerful. Dreams where he could defend the weak and avenge his family. Dreams were both gramps and Obanai-senpai were proud of him.  

It was funny, how Bambo was still here, in his dreams. Staring down at him, trying to grab him. 

Too bad, Zenitsu thought, ducking under his arm and kicking him under the chin. This was his dream and, in his dream, Zenitsu always won.  

Dancing out of the way of another strike, he breathed deeply and slide down to snatch up Obanai-senpai's sword.  

How cool would it be? To be like Obanai-senpai. To be great. 

“Breath of Thunder First Style: Thunderclap and Flash”  

Giant didn’t see it coming. No one ever did. Not in his dreams.  

Putting away his borrowed sword he suddenly found himself tipping over to one side. 

Huh? 

Why did he feel so heavy? Why did it hurt so much? 

Blinking slowly he felt his dream blurring into itself and his eyes opening up to look into the mismatched pair of his senpai’s. 

Oh, so Obanai-senpai was the one who was holding him up. And his eyes – his mouth was covered again. 

“Senpai?”  

His whole body was screaming, and he couldn’t for the life of him see where that demon went. Did Obanai-senpai kill him? Was he still lurking somewhere? 

“Senpai?” He felt like he was dying. 

“It’s ok brat,” Obanai-senpai muttered. “You did good. It’s over now.” 

Over? What was over? 

“Impossible!” 

Obanai-senpai's eyes flicked away from him and to the lower moon who was slowly turning into ash. Zenitsu tried to do the same too, but he couldn’t move. His body felt ten times heavier than usual. 

“You were supposed to be dead!” The demon screamed again; sounding maniac and crazed. “Thunder breather! How are you still alive! A promise has been broken! A promise has been broken!” 

“What are you talking about?” Obanai-senpai was suddenly lowering him back on to the ground; being careful yet quick, before he marched over to the vanishing demon. “What do you mean he should be dead?” 

Lower moon three was now laughing. A maniac little thrilling sound. “Oh, I wish I could be around to see the look on his face when master finds out. Serves him right! Serves him right!” 

“Who are you talking about?” 

Impatience was starting to color Obanai-senpai's voice. 

“Nakime-sama was supposed to have killed them all. It is what was promised in return of master’s gift.” And with those final words, he vanished. 

Chapter Text

Everything after the fight felt sped up like someone was holding down the fast-forward button and Zenitsu desperately tried to blink the darkness away. Trying not to lose any more time. 

“Here,” Obanai said; leaning down and readjusting the blonde until he had good enough grasp around his waist to get him standing back up again, heavily tilting into the snake pillar. Zenitsu whined low in his throat. Everything hurt and his legs barely had any strength left in them to keep him from face-planting if Obanai-senpai decided to let him go. Fortunately for his battered self it didn’t look like the older man was about to do that any time soon. 

Throwing his own slightly healthier arm around the pillar’s shoulder he gritted his teeth when the cut running down through his waist flared up. “Everything hurts,” he mumbled; dry throat making his words feel jumbled and incoherent. Obanai-senpai nodded either way. 

“I know.” 

“You saying that doesn’t make it hurt any less,” Zenitsu complained. He only got a slight bit of jolt for his trouble. “Ouch!” he said, staring at his senpai with obvious hurt framing his face. “Why did you do that for?” Obanai-senpai jolted him again. 

“Drop it brat or I’ll drop you.” 

“Ok ok ok.” Geez, he’d forgotten what a grouch Obanai-senpai could be. “You didn’t have to-” 

Obanai-senpai's eyebrow twitched and Zenitsu clamped up pretty quick. Raising his injured arm in a sign of pathetic surrender.  

Like that they hobbled their way through the dead night. Obanai being the better faring on practically carrying both of their weights by the end of the clearing. But just as they were about to turn back in the direction of the manor, Zenitsu came to a screeching halt snapping the snake pillar into an awkward looking stop. Obanai-senpai hissed in pain and then turned on the blonde so quick that for a second Zenitsu’s life flashed before his eyes. 

“Brat,” Obanai-senpai growled. “I will leave you here if you don’t cut this shit out right this instant.” 

“That’s not – I... I’m sorry!” he wailed. Why did his senpai always have to be so scary? “I just remembered something we need to do,” he said; eyes drawn out wide and expression crumbling into one of fear. 

The snake pillar sighed. “What?” 

“Kaburamaru-san! I left him in the forest to keep him safe. We need to go get him!” 

His senpai didn’t say anything for a while just stared at him. Finally; when the silence almost became unbearable for Zenitsu, the older man sighed and then pushed Zenitsu forward to indicate to keep walking.  

“He’ll find me,” he said as a way of explanation when it became obvious the blonde was still worried. “We need to keep moving.” 

“Are you sure? Because if you’re not-” 

Huh 

His chest hurt. Not in the painful way it had been doing, but more like – His lower lip wobbled and he felt his eyes sting. He couldn’t get a lid on any of his emotions. 

“What if he can’t find us in the dark senpai?” 

Obanai-senpai sighed and then bumped his own head against Zenitsu’s. “He will.” 

“Ok.” He didn’t know why this was getting to him so much. “Ok.” But if Obanai-senpai said it would work out. “He’ll find us.” Then he could believe that. The snake pillar gives him a nod and they start walking again. 

Zenitsu doesn’t know for how long they walk. It felt like forever and he found himself slipping in and out of consciousness and by the time he dragged himself back into the real world for the ninth time, figures in white were rushing out towards them and there was noise and chatter and screams and worry and he didn’t remember anything after that.  

The first time he wakes up it’s to the sound of quite sobbing. It’s a struggle to force his eyes open but when he does, he’s greeted with the sight of Obanai-senpai's still form on the bed next to him and Fuyoko-chan holding the older man’s hand between her own as she cried softly over his body. Words of prayer leaving her lips in a jumble of desperation. 

Seeing her, seeing how worried she was for Obanai-senpai how scared, it makes him feel small. There where he lies, he remembers gramps. Master that would make him eat his soup and drink his water whenever he was sick or down with an injury. Even Kaigaku-senpai used to check in on him when he thought he was sleeping. The foulest insults leaving his mouth, but he would press the back of his hand to his forehead, would tighten the blankets around him and would draw the curtains so the moonlight would stop hitting his face. It was a long time ago. He doesn’t remember the last time Kaigaku-senpai had been anything else but awful to him now. He wonders if they could have gone back to those days if- 

He blacks out again. 

The second time he wakes up no one is there. His left ear feels plugged with all the gauze tightly wrapped around it. He wonders if they managed to save it somehow. Maybe? Maybe not.  

From next to him, the even breaths of the snake pillar tell him that the man is still asleep. Maybe he should be too. He closes his eyes and he’s gone in a couple of seconds. 

The third time he wakes up he has the strength to move his head again. Just so, but he’s able to look at Obanai-senpai again. And when he shifts; hissing at the pain and finally rests his gaze on the sleeping man, tears start dripping down his cheek because right there on Obanai-senpai's bed is Kaburamaru. Circled around his senpai’s arm and resting his head on the injury free shoulder. Zenitsu had never felt so happy to see a reptile in his entire life. Things fade into black again and he’s out. 

The fourth time he wakes up he’s not in the same room anymore. He’s lying on a futon on the ground in what looks to be his own room. So they most have moved him away from the medical wing then. 

“I see you’re awake.” 

He startles and is immediately assaulted with fire in his veins. “Ahh,” he grunts; water filling his eyes. 

“Don’t move or you’ll reopen your wounds.” 

“Senpai?” What was Obanai-senpai even doing here? Curiosity taking over, he tries to shift. It still hurts but he’s careful and eventually is able to turn his head enough to notice the man leaning up against the wall near his futon.  

“Obanai-senpai!” 

The snake pillar looks up from feeding Kaburamaru and nods back at him. “Hanako-san said you would wake up around this time. Seems she was correct in her prediction.” 

Zenitsu blinks up at the older man owlishly. Not exactly able to fully wrap his head around the situation just yet. Obanai-senpai has turned his attention back on his snake. Feeding him tiny little insects that he was scooping up from a box near his lap. Zenitsu grimaced. Gross. 

“How long was I out,” he asked when looking at those moving bugs became too much. His voice is scratchy and hoarse but it’s surprisingly a lot more stable than he’d imagined it to be. 

“Five days,” Obanai-senpai answered. “You were in and out a couple of times though. Fuyuko-san got some water in you the last time you woke up delirious.” Here his frown deepened. “You were pretty out of it.” 

Zenitsu bit his lip. “Did I say anything?” 

Obanai stilled.  

“What did I say Obanai-senpai?” 

“You were pretty shaken up so I wouldn’t think too much about it, but you said – you said you... You told us to let you die.” 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah.” 

“I didn’t mean it.” 

“I know.” 

Turning away from Obanai-senpai, he blinks up at the ceiling again, sensing the vague tingling of upcoming tears. Damn it. Why was he such a baby about everything? Obanai-senpai got hurt twice, had to lug his sorry ass back to this mansion twice and was awake and dealing with his stupidity once again. Couldn’t he get anything right ever? 

“I’m sorry Obanai-senpai.” 

He could see the man shrugging from his peripheral view. “You said that too. Over and over again.” 

“That’s because I am,” he gritted out; furiously blinking away the moister in his eyes. “I’m sorry for what I said and I’m sorry for constantly letting you down.” 

Obanai hums but doesn’t say anything in return. 

Of course he doesn’t. What did Zenitsu expect. 

They remain silent for a while. Only Kaburamaru’s gobbling sounds being the only thing disturbing the quiet. 

Eventually Obanai-senpai's hand stop moving however and he clears his throat. Zenitsu looks back at him. The older man’s gaze is fixed on the palm of his own hands; Kaburamaru having chosen to rest his head on top of them. 

“We need to talk kid.” 

Dread pools into the blonde’s gut and he finds himself turning away from the older man. 

“What happened,” Obanai starts. “To your family to your village, kid ” his voice raises at the last word forcing Zenitsu to look at him again. Obanai-senpai is staring right back. “It wasn’t your fault kid. You need to stop blaming yourself.” 

A sudden burning feeling hits at his inner core. It was as if someone took a hold of his heart and started moving it again. It was as if something cut lose, something cold, something foreign.  

He gasps and stares and Obanai-senpai stares back. “It’s not your fault kid. It was never your fault.” 

“How do you know,” he whispered; voice-soft, halting, strange. “Why am I alive? Why me?” 

Obanai-senpai finally looks away; a faraway gaze taking over his face and he lifts one hand to run over the bandages on his lower face. “Do you know what I saw, when that demon – do you know.” 

“I-” Zenitsu swallowed. “No, I don’t.” The snake pillar nodded.  

“I saw death Agatsuma. I saw piles of bodies stacked atop of each other. I remembered how I stared up at their dead eyes and wondered when anyone would find me. If the demons would realize someone was alive in that pile of flesh if the blood dripping into my mouth would stop if my friend would die trying to hold me back from crawling out of the bodies to continue fighting because I promised I would.” 

Obanai curled his fingers into fists before unclenching them and scratching is fingers across the bandages. “I became a demon slayer so I could help people. To save lives and I was good at it.” His throat bopped as he swallowed. “I had this mentor. He was several years older than me and I idolized him. Thought his younger brother was an idiot, but I idolized him.” 

Zenitsu didn’t dare to interrupt him. This was the most the snake pillar had ever talked to him or said in a single moment and he was afraid to break the man’s trust by saying something stupid even if well meant. 

It took Obanai-senpai a second to gather himself again and by then Kaburamaru had fully climbed up the older man’s shoulder; nestling his head at the croak of the neck.  

“Muzan’s demons attacked this village. I was too low ranked to know why it was being sieged but we had our orders. Me and a handful of others. We had our orders to defend it till daybreak and protect the civilians. Akinari brought me and his brother Haruo-kun to the village. The demons were supposed to be low ranked and with Akinari and some other higher-level slayers, things were supposed to go smoothly. We were wrong.” 

Zenitsu was horrified, but the terrible night Obanai suffered didn’t end there and so with wide eyed and face as pale as the moon light shining brightly above them, Obanai-senpai told him a tale of blood, betrayal and loss. 

Told him how when the demons overwhelmed them it was decided to evacuate the civilians. Told him how that bastard Akinari had taken his highest-ranking men to do the job and promised to come back but never did. How he abandoned both Obanai-senpai and his baby brother. Leaving them for dead. How Obanai-senpai hadn’t believed, hadn’t wanted to believe even when a bunch of Mizunoto and Mizunoe ranked children were being slaughtered left and right. Put in a pile to be eaten later. Not when he – Obanai-senpai himself was thrown in there, with all the dead corpses and the mutilated body parts.  

“I couldn’t move,” Obanai-senpai had said not looking at him. “I was bleeding from everywhere possible but I still wanted to help still wanted to stop all the screaming but I couldn’t move. My dead comrades were lying on top of me. Bleeding on me. Their flesh everywhere. The rot Zenitsu. There was a demon that could - acid and... the rot.” 

He paused after; his chest heaving as if someone was lying on it. As if he couldn’t really see his surroundings anymore. Again and again Obanai-senpai would reach up to scratch at the bandages and it made a sudden onset of anger swell up inside the blonde. Because how dare this Akinari bastard do this to someone as good and brave as Obanai-senpai. 

“Haruo-kun was next to me,” the snake pillar restarted his story; voice only shaking the slightest degree. “His left eye was missing and his legs were gone but he still held me down with his arm and told me not to move. Told me to get away when the demons became distracted with their feast. Told me to save myself.” Obanai-senpai laughs. It sounds wet and broken. “I’d called him an idiot just yesterday and for some reason even then – even after how hard I made his life... He-” Obanai-senpai scratches at his face again. “No one was braver in the face of death Agatsuma. No one. Not like Haruo-kun. He held me down until his very last breath and he never cried. Not once.” 

Zenitsu didn’t know when he’d started crying himself but silent tears were running down his cheeks. Obanai-senpai's face was dry. Not a single tear. Not a single wet eye. 

“When I moved to look at him,” the snake pillar brought up one leg to rest his head on. “I got his hair in my mouth. It was long you know. His hair. It was brown and long and got tangled into stuff. I told him to cut it once, because it was impractical to have hair that long. Mitsuri would have loved his hair.” The last part was no louder than a whisper. “I promised myself then... I was going to live and I was going to make everyone pay and when I saw Akinari again... I was going to run him through with my sword. I could care less about the rules. When I found him, I was going to kill him because-” Now his eyes were shining. “Haruo-kun kept asking me when his brother was coming back and I couldn’t tell him he wasn’t.” 

He clawed against his bandages again.  

“Blood, hair, flesh. All of it, I could taste all of it Zenitsu. My nose was broken I couldn't breathe through it so I- The hashira came before I – I don’t know how much time passed but the hashira came and - Kuwajima-san he hugged me. When they dug me out he – and then I was taken back to the headquarters and I just-” 

He tore at his bandages again. Zenitsu couldn’t take it anymore. He wanted to tell him to stop. To just stop. He didn’t have to tell him anything. But it was as if a dam had been broken. A carefully constructed seal giving away to secrets and traumas long buried. They were all spilling out now. 

“The first day in the hospital, I tried to sew my mouth shut.” 

A feeling of disorientation came over Zenitsu. Horror seizing his chest and he looked up at his unshakable senpai and felt his stomach drop. “What?” he whispered. 

Obanai-senpai looked away. “The blood, the-” He began. As if he was trying to explain himself; fingers twitching. “Whenever I slept it felt like I was there that I was still drowning in... That I was still there so I tried” His fingers flexed. “I was halfway through when Oyakata-sama came to me. He was kind. He was gentle. He made things better. I believed him when he said it was going to be ok. The next day” his fingers flexed again. “My wounds hadn’t even started healing before I took a knife to my mouth. They had to put me under supervision after that. I couldn’t be trusted to look after myself.” Here he smiled a little as if remembering something just a little more pleasant in the darkness that was his past. “Rengoku, he was a pillar. I wasn’t back then, but he was and-” The smile widened a little further. Zenitsu could see it from the crinkles in the comers of Obanai-senpai's eyes. “He came in everyday to talk to me and force me to play cards with him. He was annoying.” Obanai-senpai's arms stilled by his side. “But when I was healed, when I got better and was about to be transferred over to the Yamuara’s house,” here he looked around at the room. “He came to me, Rengoku and put these white bandages over my mouth. Said it would keep the blood out. Keep me grounded. It did somewhat. I was grateful.” 

“Did you?” Zenitsu couldn’t help himself anymore.  

“Did I what?” 

“Akinari - did you?” 

Obanai-senpai shook his head; beginning to push himself back on his feet. “Someone else already got to him. Someone else already ran through him with a sword.” 

“Oh.” 

“I don’t know who it was, but I could make a guess.” And with that he disappeared out the door. 

Zenitsu could only lie there staring at the ceiling. Vision blurry and nose stuffed. Obanai-senpai he- And then he had the nerve to accuse him of not saving his family? How wrong he'd been. A silent sob escaped passed his lips and he clamped his mouth shut in a desperate attempt to force the sound down. It takes him what almost feels like hours but was in reality only ten minutes to calm down.  

There is a sudden knock on his door then. He startled. “Come in,” he said; voice a little wet.

It was Obanai-senpai. Zenitsu looked up at him in surprise. He didn’t think he would see him again. Not for a while at least. But there he was, leaning against the door frame. Blank face already in place and holding up – was that a deck of cards? 

Sure enough, Obanai-senpai waved the cards around. “Want to play kid?” 

Zenitsu smiled. He didn’t know why but a shaky slow smile spread across his face. “Sure senpai,” he said. “I would love to.” 

Chapter Text

“What do you mean he’s gone?”  

Fuyoko-chan smiled down at him while trying to not meet his gaze as she pressed gently against his stitched-up wounds and hummed to herself. “Just a couple more days of sufficient rest and you should be right as rain,” she said.  

Zenitsu didn’t care. 

“What do you mean he’s gone,” he asked again; trying to push himself up but a firm placement of the old woman’s hand on his chest halted the movement. “He was just here this morning?” Panic was slowly starting to seep into his veins. “He can’t be gone. He didn’t even say goodbye.” 

“Now now child,” Fuyoko-chan said; her smile taking a bit of a sharp turn. “Keep moving around like that and you’re going to pull out some stitches and we don’t want that do we?” 

Zenitsu didn’t care. How could he when this was the first, he was hearing of his senpai’s disappearance, so all he did was stare back up at her, eyes glassy and lips pursed into a pout. “He just left?” 

The smile turned gentle at that and the old lady patted him briefly on the head before standing up again; medical kit in hand. “He’ll be back hunny,” she said, nodding down at Kaburamaru sleeping soundly next to him. “He wouldn’t leave him behind, so he’ll be back. Don’t you worry yourself dear.” With that she was out the door and with a last nod and a wave, she locked it behind her. Zenitsu still felt like a chunk of his very being had been dragged through the mud and left in the trash.  

“He left me.”  

Sure Kaburamaru was still here but Obanai-senpai had already told him the snake could find him anywhere so who's to say that the next time he fell asleep his friend wasn’t just going to disappear too? What about the mission crows? Maybe two of them would come around and pick Kaburamaru up, take him to Obanai-senpai wherever he was and leave him behind? 

He didn’t even say goodbye. 

That more than anything, hurt. 

Swallowing thickly, he rubbed a tired hand across his eyes. Puzzles of his life that had just started settling into their places suddenly feeling like they were being dislodged, broken and thrown into chaos all over again and the blonde didn’t know what to do with himself anymore. 

He thought they’d been ok, good even. Obanai-senpai wasn’t the most outspoken person, but every so often he – he would come up and they’d play cards and he’d let Zenitsu get away with blabbering on about anything and everything. So why would he...  

Maybe he’d found him annoying after all. Maybe he’d just been indulging an injured kid. Maybe he was just waiting for him to be free of death’s door before he decided to continue on without him. But- 

“He’s a pillar,” Fukoyo-chan had scolded him when he missed their annual card game. “You must understand he has a lot on his mind.” 

Fair, that was fair but – didn't he at least owe Zenitsu the chance to say goodbye?  

Glancing down at the snake pressed up against his leg, he sighed. “What am I doing wrong Kaburamaru-san.” Running a careful finger over the snake’s head as not to wake him, he raised his other hand to scratch against his ear; the itching bothering him terribly. The bandages were still in his way of course, so no success there, but it still made him grimace in frustration when the prickling nerves didn’t relent under the mild tapping that he managed to echo through the cloth.  

Eventually staying up out of frustration became too exhausting and in the end his heavy eyelids won the battle of stubbornness and before the blonde teen knew it, he was yawning more than he was muttering bitterly under his breath and so he chose to fully lay back down and in a matter of seconds was out like a light. 

Three slow days passed in quiet succession without any word from the snake pillar and by this point, Zenitsu was walking around on his own and was very much capable of listening and tracking down any crows that got anywhere near the Mansion. The irritation of his constant questioning of Obanai-senpai's return eventually began to break through the professional masks of the servants and Zenitsu clamped his mouth shut and tried to find information somewhere else after that. It wasn’t easy and by the night of the fourth day, he was finally sure the older male wasn’t coming back. Not for him. Not for Kaburamaru.  

It hurt.  

But it didn’t hurt for long, because he did come back. Came waltzing in through the front gates as if he’d never left. His crow bumped him on the head before flying off and Obanai-senpai took of his shoes, put down his bag by the gate and went to give Fuyoko-chan a hug.  

“Welcome back,” she said; a large smile painting her thin lips. His senpai nodded at her in acknowledgement and turned around to face him. Or more precisely, face the door he was hiding behind. 

“Agatsuma.” 

He yelped, then bit his lip to silence the sound and pressed himself even further behind the door; never mind that he’d already been discovered. Because.... he was back? Obanai-senpai he- he came back. Even though – he wasn’t supposed to he- 

“Agatsuma, get out of there. You look ridiculous.”  

It took him a moment to let the words fully dawn on him, but when they did, his face flushed red and he ducked his chin down even further before shuffling out from behind the door. “Welcome back Obanai-senpai.” His voice cracked at the end of the sentence and his cheeks blazed up in embarrassment. Feeling even more like dirt when all Obanai-senpai did in answer was to lift a single disinterested eyebrow. “I-” he continued, and why the hell was he still talking?  “I’m glad you’re back and – I just” Stop talking! “I didn’t think you-” Stop.talking.Zenitsu!  

“You didn’t think I would come back?” 

The blonde felt as if his feet suddenly looked more interesting than any wonders of the world, and he couldn’t for the life of him look away from them. “Yeah.”  

He wished Kaburamaru was here with him right now. He felt strangely empty without his new friend. And now that his mind had registered the fact that Fuyoko-chan had left them alone, he felt even more scrutinized and judged. 

“I wouldn’t break your trust like that,” The snake pillar finally said; breaking the silence. 

And ouch. Zenitsu suddenly felt like a terrible person for thinking that Obanai-senpai would do something like that. Especially after he told him about – especially after Akinari. Of course Obanai-senpai wouldn’t just abandon him. Why was he so bad at understanding the other man? He kept on stepping on his toes and no wonder his senpai was sick of him. “I’m sorry Obanai-senpai. I didn’t-” 

“It’s ok.” 

No more words were exchanged after that as dinner was called and Zenitsu doesn’t snap out of his strange trance until a firm hand is placed between his shoulder blades and he’s being pushed towards the hallway. “Let’s go Agatsuma.”  

He can only nod along. 

XXXXXX

Dinner was a quiet affair. The Yamuaras’ are as friendly as ever and their fondness for the snake pillar is very clear in how engrossed they were in his retelling of the simple mission he undertook, but despite how interesting it sounded, despite how he would have been just as engrossed any other day, Zenitsu wasn’t able to commit to the familial atmosphere like everyone else.  

A weight rested between his breastbones and try as he might, he couldn’t choke down the unease that had been writhing through his veins all evening. He couldn’t shake of the feeling that Obanai-senpai wasn’t here to stay, wasn’t here to take him with him either. That maybe this was the goodbye he had wished for but hadn’t wanted. 

And- 

“I can’t let you come with me kid.”  

They had relocated back to his makeshift hospital-bedroom and they were just playing their second round of Rengoku-san's bizarre card game, when his senpai had refused to tap down his fourth number and instead calmly told him; after a painstaking moment of awkward silence, that he was planning on leaving for good. “It’s best if you stay here with Yamuara-san and Fuyoko-san kid.” 

“I don’t understand.” What was he talking about? Hadn’t Zenitsu proven himself? Hadn’t he almost died out there? Was Obanai-senpai still angry about what he said? Was he still disappointed that the blonde hadn’t defeated the demon by himself and was he-was he- did he think Zenitsu wasn’t going to amount to-  

“Please don’t leave me.” It came out broken, pleading, pathetic and – he sniffed, looking down. Why couldn’t he ever be something more than what he was. Something less disappointing. 

Obanai-senpai tapped down his fourth number; it was a seven and then flicked his third. Zenitsu still had no idea how this game was actually played. “I’m not trying to leave you kid-” 

“But you are!” 

For some reason, those words made the snake pillar jerk back and the action made Zenitsu look up. Big mistake. Now he couldn’t hide the big fat tears threatening to spill down his cheeks and yet again, Zenitsu was furious with himself and his inability to keep his dumb emotions in check. Something strange flickered over Obanai’s face and the blonde couldn’t decipher it quickly enough before it once again was hidden behind a well-practiced blank expression. 

“I’m trying to keep you alive brat.” 

“Why can’t I be alive while training with you?”  

A sigh and a nudge of Zenitsu’s hand indicating to continue the game.

The blonde frowned but still circled two cards before flipping the sixth. “For some reason kid, demons are after you. High ranking demons and until we figure out why, I can’t just let you wander outside the safety of the wisteria trees.” 

“We?” Because who else outside of their circle knew about that fight. 

“Yes we,” his senpai muttered; carefully examining the cards strewn around the floor before picking up Rengoku-san's crumbled paper of rules to examine how they ought to proceed next. “I have contacted Oyakata-sama and he and my fellow Hashira’s are of the same mind that you need to be under watch.” Putting down the paper, Obanai-senpai dealt out three new cards. “You staying right here is in your best interest.” 

“You promised to train me Obanai-senpai!” This felt like a last fight. A last deciding match to determine if he would ever see the older man again. “I can’t get better without your help!” He didn’t have anyone else to lean on. No one. “Gramps wanted me to pass the final selection. I can’t do that without your help!” He wanted to stay with him. “It’s the last thing gramps ever wanted for me. I can’t let him down again!”  

‘Don’t leave me behind, please.’  

Obanai-senpai's eyebrows did a little strange dance; contorting and bowing along with whatever thoughts swirling inside his head and his nose crunched up into a contemplating frown. “I won’t train you for vengeance,” he finally settled on after a long moment of silence. “I owe Kuwajima-san more than that. And I won’t train someone that doesn’t show potential.” 

“Ok.”

Zenitsu could agree with that, for now. “I can accept that. Look, Obanai-senpai, the Final Selection, it’s in three months-” 

“I know.” 

“Train me till then!” His pitch was coming out better then he’d expected. Yay for practice! “And if you don’t think I’m ready you can.... Um, uh – you can take my sword!” 

Another nudge to continue the game. The snake pillar observed his next move carefully before he spoke up again. “What stops me from taking it from you now? It would stop you from recklessly pursuing danger and wouldn’t have to – think about you going out there and getting yourself killed.” 

“You can’t do that,” Zenitsu protested; glancing over at his sword where it rested on top of his futon next to Kaburamaru. 

“Why not?” 

“Because,” he said, voice going strangely quiet. “It’s the last thing gramps gave me before he died.” 

Obanai-senpai nodded; it was a slight twitch of his chin and if it wasn’t for his fingers tightening around the cards he was holding Zenitsu wouldn’t even have noticed the effect the words had on him. “There is a Hashira meeting in a month,” his senpai said then. “If you don’t show improvement by then I’ll drop you at whatever safe house we’re nearby and there will be no chance of coming back here again.” 

Improvement, real improvement in a month. He could do that, right? 

“Ok,” he said, not voicing any of his indecisions and doubts. “Deal.” 

Obanai-senpai nodded again and that was that.  

He wasn’t going to be left behind. 

Pure light flooded his heart and he had to desperately fight down the burst of joy threatening to spill passed his lips. Ducking his head down he tried to hide the giant grin splitting his face in half but the lump in his throat and the sting in his eyes were harder to push away, he managed though.  

He managed until a gentle hand came to rest atop of his head and unlike the first time Obanai-senpai had done it, the weight of the comforting hand stayed put.  

“You and me kid,” the snake pillar said. “You and me,” and how could anyone expect Zenitsu not to cry after that. And so he did. Shoulders shaking with sobs that forced him to cover his face so the ugly sound didn’t escape passed the walls, but Obanai-senpai didn’t seem to mind; keeping his hand right where it was, and that more than anything meant the world to Agatsuma Zenitsu. 

 “I won’t let you down,” he hiccuped. “I promise I won’t let you down.” 

Chapter Text

“Again!”Obanai snapped; eyes firmly focused on the brat’s poor form but fingers resting on Kuwajima-san notebook that he was currently studying. “Focus Agatsuma and do as you’re told.” 

The kid jerked his head in understanding before retaking his stance again and going through the several forms without making the obvious mistake of the previous time. It wasn’t good enough. “Again,” he called out, glaring down any protest about to spout out from the kid’s mouth. “You look sloppy and lazy. If we need to do this over and over again throughout night for you to get it right, so be it. Again, Agatsuma.” 

Light crumbled in the kid’s eyes and from where Obanai sat observing him, he could distantly see the bob of his throat and the curled down of his bottom lip, a sign the brat was about to cry. Honestly, slamming the book shut he placed it in the crook of his elbow and stood up to shorten the distance between them. Why did he even take on this child in the first place? 

When the teen saw him approach his face rose up in relief; a little more life welcomed back to his eyes as his desperation dimmed. “I don’t know what I’m doing wrong,” he said. 

Iguro didn’t designate him with an answer, instead he kicked the heel of Zenitsu’s boot; widening the kid’s stance to the appropriate measure and with a swift hand, moved down his elbow and tilted up his shoulders. “Your impatience is your undoing brat,” he said; stepping back when the blonde’s form was to his satisfaction. “Mimicking doesn’t mean perfection. Notice where your body is at all times. And do it again.”  

He doesn’t add anything else, choosing to walk back to his spot instead. Jumping on top of the rock and crossing his knees on his way down. “Kuwajima-san didn’t fail with you. Try and remember what he taught you.” 

From his peripheral view he could see the kid nodding sharply at the name drop, but Obanai had little hope that even that would serve as a boost to his lack of development in these past two days.  

He wouldn’t have minded the snail-paced progressed if he hadn’t been witnessed to the sheer force of lightening talent brimming under the kid’s skin. He had been a force to be reckoned with for a single moment and nothing had surprised Obanai like that for a very long time. Imagine his disappointment then when he discovered the brat didn’t even know what he was capable off. Didn’t know what he could do. 

‘What level of patience you must have had  Kuwajima-san,’ he mused. ‘Less than a month with this child and I am already close to sending him up to you.’  

A frustrated shout from said child made him look up from the notebook again. Zenitsu had thrown his sword away; it laying forgotten and abused by the river side as the kid himself was busy banging his head against a tree. “I can’t do it!” He whisper-screamed; fists clenched at his side and eyes crunched up in frustration. “I can’t do anything!” 

Obanai sighed. The lack of self confidence in the brat was truly astonishing and a small part of him wanted to slap him upside the head and tell him to man up, but- 

“Hei Nai-chan,” he remembered Haruo say once upon a time. “Do you think I’ll ever be as good as you?” 

“No,” he’d said that day; an annoyed frown pulling down at his lips. “You’re not as talented as me and frankly, I don’t even know why you’re here.” 

Haruo had only laughed, bumping their heads together and grinning down amusedly at him. “I’ll catch up,” he’d said. “You’ll see.” 

Obanai sighed again at the memories, standing up and putting the book down this time. “Come here,” he said; beckoning the kid over. Zenitsu didn’t budge for a second but after a while he trudged over, head down and shoulders hunched.  

Obanai flicked his forehead. 

“Ouch,” the kid pouted; hand coming up to press at the red mark already forming. “Why did you do that for?” 

The snake pillar only glared. “Don’t throw your sword around brat. It’s dishonorable, and didn’t you say it was the last thing the old man gave you?” 

The kid looked down in shame. “Yeah.” 

“Then go pick it up and try again. I won’t let you slack of just because you’ve decided to pity yourself.” When the kid still didn’t move from his spot, he flicked him again. This time on the nose and much harder. “I said go.” 

“Fine fine,” the teen mumbled; some other chosen words spilling passed his lips too as he scrambled to get away from Obanai and the snake pillar almost snorted in amusement. God knew were the brat had heard any of those words, but he’d already flicked him twice. A third time wouldn’t teach him anything, and besides, who was Iguro to complain about foul language? 

When the kid had once again taken up his practice, the snake pillar picked up the notebook and flipped back to his page. Eyes boring into the familiar script of the old man. Kuwajima-san's handwriting was as close to the man who saved him as Obanai was ever going to get and – swallowing thickly he shoved whatever pile of emotion that had risen from the depth of his mind, back down to where they wouldn’t see the light of day and focused once more on the content of the written words.  

Kuwajima-san had made detailed notes about both his students and their struggles when it came to mastering his breathing art. The snake pillar didn’t pay much mind to Kaigaku; choosing to store and look into that information later on and instead focused his attention on the kid’s progress. It almost shocked him to realize at first how underprepared the brat was. He had only mastered the first style and according to Kuwajima-san, wasn’t able to master anything else. 

‘Well,’  Obanai thought; skimming a couple of pages and making mental notes as he went. ‘That won’t do. No demon slayer survives this world with only one style.’  

The question was, what to do from here. Should he focus on the second style or start from one in the middle so the building up itself didn’t frighten the child. Getting his choices wrong could screw the brat over for good and with his level of talent, that would be a shame. 

Reading through each style he tried to envision each one my tracing back his memory to when he’d seen Kuwajima-san himself use them. He hadn’t seen all six styles but the one he remembered must vividly had been the fourth. “Fourth style,” he muttered; running his finger over the words. “Distant thunder.” It looked to be a ranged strike at a distance and sure it was jumping two styles if the kid started off with it, but it also looked to be very useful in combat especially since the kid tended to panic when directly in front of his enemies, and with his speed. “He could take advantage of his longer ranged attacks,” he whispered to himself. 

Now, Obanai could be terribly wrong here, but for now, helping the kid learn the fourth style looked to be the best option. Besides, he had to start somewhere. Especially after begrudgingly giving up on trying to teach the kid how to utilize his concentrated breath throughout the day. Even if it would have improved his skills tenfold; and wouldn’t leave Kocho’s student as the only none pillar who’d mastered it, but he knew that was too reckless of a stunt and he rather keep the kid alive for now.  

‘All in due time,’  he promised himself.‘All in due time.’  

Putting the book aside; after coming to a final decision, he crossed his arms and finally took the time to observe the kid’s training again. He was doing better. His swing looked much more consistent following one another; despite not fully being correct, and he was controlling his breathing as not to lose stamina too quickly too soon. Obanai let him keep it up for another hour and a half before relenting and calling out to him. 

“Take a bath and get some rest kid,” he said; noting with faint amusement how Kaburamaru had slithered closer to the kid; from where he had been hiding in the grass, the minute he lowered his sword arm. “We’re done for the day.” 

The kid heaved a huge sigh of relief and practically collapsed on the ground. Legs and arms sprawled in every which way and didn’t move until the white snake came to comfortable curl up on top of his chest. 

XXXXXX  

If Obanai thought that he had made some sort of break through with the notebook Zenitsu had given him, if he thought that maybe he figured out how to help the kid; something even the old man hadn’t fully managed, well – he thought wrong. 

Because no matter what he tried; waterfall training, rigorous work out, practice fights, nothing seemed to force the kid to tap into his hidden abilities. Not like he did that day against the illusion demon. It was as if his self-doubt kept eating away at his breathing style until there was nothing left to produce. And Obanai Iguro was not a patient man so this lack of progress after almost a week pissed him off to no end. 

“Stop that,” he hissed, slapping the kid’s hand away from the bleeding cut on his arm. “You will just get it infected with your dirty fingers.” Bringing his bag closer he started fishing out several items along with their medical kit. The fact that the kid hadn’t made a sound of protest against Obanai’s action was quickly noted by the older. The brat had been strangely quiet for the past two days and it was clear as day why the annoying hyper personality had dimmed as time passed and no new style was produced let alone mastered.  

He had briefly contemplated teaching the brat his own breathing style when the disheartened look of the kid’s face started to make his skin itch, but just the thought of erasing the last traces of Kuwajima-san legacy from this earth and replacing it with his own tainted one made his stomach lurch in disgust. No, he wasn’t going to do that. He would help this kid learn the breath of thunder style or so help him if it took blood and pain and suffering. He was going to make it happen. 

The question was how. 

Against the demons, when cornered, the kid had fought back. When he’d been worried about him, he hadn’t backed down. Of course he sustained large injuries from it, but that was mostly because the illusion demon was a level or two above him. Maybe- 

The kid had practically perfected the form. Had every movement of the fourth breath style down, so what was missing? A slight push? Something more than just training? 

A horrible, crazy, stupid idea was slowly starting to form in Obanai’s mind and try has he might he didn’t see a reason as to why he shouldn’t do it.  

Tying up the last knot on the kid’s bandage, he gave him a gentle shove on the shoulder to indicate he was done.  

“Thanks Obanai-senpai,” the teen said; twisting his arm this way and that, head still turned away from him. “I’ll go back to practice now.” 

Obanai nodded, mind still occupied with forming his next strategy for the kid’s training. It was obvious that it was Zenitsu’s doubts and fears he had to combat before he ever hoped to accomplish anything of value with him and to do that, he could do either of two things. He could endanger his own life; which would be profoundly stupid as anything dangerous enough to him would likely result in his death while protecting the kid and thus leave the brat with even more dead people on his consciousness or – he could put the kid in a situation where he would have to fight for his own life. Slowly learning how to master his skills. 

Real world training and all that. 

“Hey brat,” he said; forcing the kid to a halt. “It’s been a week. I see no progress on your part.” 

Zenitsu’s shoulders slumped and Obanai almost felt bad for bringing it up, but alas it was the truth and he didn’t like to sugarcoat the facts for anyone. “We had a deal kid.” 

Those words made the kid spin around and stare down at him in fright. “I still have three weeks left Obanai-senpai,” he protested; lower lip already starting to quiver.  

Obanai nodded along, trying to slightly a peace him. “I know. But at the rate in which you’re going brat, you’ll be lucky to get anywhere in the next couple of months.” The kid face fell and Iguro held up a hand to stop him from talking.  

“I will have to fix that.” 

“How?” the kid blurted and Obanai glared. 

“Let me talk brat.” Zenitsu nodded and clambered his mouth shut. “There is a village about a week from here,” the snake pillar began when he was satisfied that the kid wouldn’t interrupt him. “There are two ways to get there. One way,” he said; holding up a finger. “Is quick, short and will probably get us there in less than four days. The second,” he held up another finger. “Will take about a week. Not to mention how that path his infested with demons all along the way.” 

“Demons?” The kid had paled significantly. Probably remembering his last encounter with the monsters. Obanai nodded. “Yes demons. They are rather weak though, as demon slayers have taken that path many times and no demon found in that location ever happen to be too strong.” 

“Why are you telling me this Obanai-senpai?” 

The snake pillar almost felt bad about what he was about to say, almost. “Tomorrow at dawn, you’re going to take that path alone Agatsuma and I will meet you in the village in a weeks' time. If you make it there.” 

“What!” 

“None of those demons know blood demon art brat, you can handle it.” 

“You promised you weren’t going to leave me behind!” 

And – he had expected many things from the kid, but he hadn’t even allowed that particular definition of what he was about to do to even cross his mind. He wasn’t abandoning the kid. Why would he even- 

“I did promise you that,” he said slowly. “And I’m not planning to. I will be waiting for you at the destination point. It’s your job to make it there on your own. And this is an order.” He held up a hand again to silence the angry teen. “It’s not up for debate.” 

“What if-” the kid finally said; when they were sitting around the fire eating, after having kept quiet for hours in a stubborn defiance. “What if I don’t make it there.” 

“You will never make it there,” Obanai said; taking a bite out of his dinner. “If you keep thinking like that.”  

There dinner was nothing fancy, but the snake pillar did make sure to give as much of what he cooked to the kid. Wouldn’t do for him to starve on his journey, he rationalized the thought, trying to push away the strange twist his stomach did at the realization he was about to part ways with this stupid, vulnerable and all too naïve minded brat.  

When dinner was over, they didn’t exchange any words. Obanai laid down to sleep and Zenitsu did the same on the opposite side of the fire. Kaburamaru hadn’t left the kid’s side ever since Obanai’s declaration, and he knew why. For the both of them, it was time to say goodbye to the brat.  

It takes a while for him to fall asleep and before morning light breaks through the horizon, he has his bag slung over his shoulder, Kaburamaru curled around his neck and with one last glance at the sleeping form of Zenitsu, he jumps up into the trees and vanishes.  

‘Till we meet again,’  he thinks.‘Be safe.’  

Chapter Text

He wakes up alone and it burns deep, the pain.  

Sitting up slowly he takes his time looking around, scanning his surroundings. No one. No one was there. The fire had been put out and the sun was dancing high up in the sky. Blinding him where he was curled up into his own haori alone and abandoned.  

Zenitsu digs his fingers into the dirt and tries to calm his raging emotions. His eyes sting and his breath hitches but he doesn’t want to let it out. Doesn’t want to cry like a pitiful child because why should he? He hadn’t proven himself. Hadn’t done anything right ever since gramps... he was useless and talentless and Obanai-senpai was just too kind to give up on him just yet, but- 

What would he do when Zenitsu didn’t manage to get to the village on his own? Would he come back all this way to find him? Would he- 

‘He’ll leave me behind,’  he thought; the realization dawning on him like crashing ocean against the shore.‘If he doesn’t find me there, he’ll leave me behind and never look back.’  

Of course he would. Zenitsu would have proven him right after all. Proven what a waste of time he was. 

A tiny sob breaks through his lips and he clamps a shaking hand over his mouth; trying to muffle the sound. From whom? He doesn’t know, all he knows is that he doesn’t want to hear it. Not his own sad, pathetic mewling that only went further to prove that he wasn’t worth being bothered with. And yet- 

Another sob escapes passed his dirty hands and then another and another, and before his mind has time to catch up with his emotions, his eyes are flooding with unending tears and his cheeks are flushed and- 

‘God,’  he thinks; curling into himself. 'I’m really nothing.’  

He sits there for a while. Not moving from the abandoned campsite as he silently cries into his knees. Hopelessness is restricting his chest making it hard to breathe, and he wonders if these overwhelming emotions will ever dim. Will ever let him forget and pretend that he was better than he was.  

‘I miss them,’  he thinks as his shoulders shake.‘I miss them so so much.’   

Obanai-senpai was a decent companion at the best of times and a scary one at the worst, but – he had been the one to find him when he’d lost everything. The one who helped bury his fami...the one who saved him from the demons, Obanai-senpai without even knowing had become someone important to him and Kaburamaru – the snake was... Is – he was his friend. A comfort. Someone to lean on when he couldn’t find warmth anywhere else. A constant presence in his life that told him it was ok to be scared and it was ok to be brave. How could he just... How could they leave him? How was he supposed to manage without them? 

“I’m going to die,” he gasped; eyes widening as tears leaked uncontrollably. “I’m going to die and they will forget me and gramps and Kaigaku... No one will avenge them and oh God, I’m going to die. I can’t fight demons!” 

Breathing became harder and harder and – clutching his chest, he curled even tighter around himself and hiccupped with vehement frustration. 

Why was he so weak? 

It takes him what feels like hours to calm down and when he eventually does... he feels even more upset then he started off as. Sniffling loudly, he scrubs at his eyes and breaths through hitching noises.  

His fingers curl and uncurl for a while. Blotched eyes downcast to the ground and dirty nails making bile rise up in his throat.  

‘I can’t stay here,’  he thought fervently.‘I can’t stay here. I can’t stay here.’  

He repeated that mantra over and over again. Whispered it to himself as he finally mustered up the strength to pull himself back on his feet. Whispered it as he packed up his meager belongings; taking notice of the missing notebook. And muttered it even more vehemently as he faced the dark forest leading him away from the glistering riverbank. 

“I can’t stay here,” he told himself loudly and took his first step towards the village. He couldn’t stay, because no one was coming back for him. 

XXXXXX  

The forest is relatively calm the first day and night; nothing approaching him outside of a deer that happens upon him by accident and is easily scared away by his frightened scream of surprise. What had looked to be dark and ominous at first glance, turned out to be quite friendly the longer Zenitsu traveled through the worn-out path.  

There was nothing sinister about the luscious green trees or the singing birds hidden out of sight and the simplicity of the forest music around him almost lulled the blonde teen into sleep while standing. Closing his eyes he breathed in the fresh air and finally, after nearly thirty hours of utter fright, a tiny smile blossomed across his lips. 

He’d been so terrified of every little sound breathing through the forest that he hadn’t slept a wink the night before, but it felt like such a relief to know that maybe Obanai-senpai had been lying to him. Trying to toughen him up and maybe there were no demons around at all and his senpai had only wanted him to train his awareness skills, so he told him ridiculous stories about monsters roaming the woods between the villages. 

Laughing loudly, he ruffled his hair and stuck his tongue out at the imaginary scowling senpai in front of him. “You’re such a jerk,” he whispered, almost fondly. “Too bad I’m too smart for you.” 

He was so going to get a goodnight sleep today. He’d already picked out his spot. 

It was near a cliff and some edible mushroom grew nearby so that was good and after fishing for a while; a skill he had learned forcefully by Obanai-senpai's hands, he had practically everything he needed to settle down for the evening.  

Yawning, he set his bag aside and squinted up at the sky. The sun was going down, illuminating the forests in lights of orange and pink and to Zenitsu it looked rather pretty.  

“I’ll be ahead of schedule tomorrow,” he said to himself out loud; piling up the branches and working on the fire. “And I’ll be at the village in less than a week. That’ll show Obanai-senpai.” 

Being in a pretty good mood for the first time in a long while, Zenitsu settled down for the night. Not having had any sleep the past one before he was nothing short of exhausted, so whispering a goodnight to gramps and Kaigaku-senpai and after a second thought to Kaburamaru and Obanai-senpai as well, he let his eyes fall shut and let himself get dragged into a blissful darkness.  

Zenitsu was sure everything was going to work out from now on. 

XXXXXX

Everything was not going to work out from now on.  

Screaming, he ducked out of the way of a swiping claw.  

Why did this kind of stuff keep happening to him? “Leave me alone,” he wailed, running for it as he desperately clutched to his open bag and thanked God, he’d had the mind not to forget about it and his sword because of the sudden attack. 

“Let me eat your arm and I’ll consider!” The demon crowed; jumping forward with a giant leap and Zenitsu threw himself to the ground; flipping his body upward into a roll before getting back on his feet and running again.  

“Come back little one,” the other demon shimmed in and honestly, Zenitsu bit back a dry sob and continued to run, someone must have cursed him as a baby, because there was no way anyone could have this much of a bad luck. 

“I don’t want to!” He screamed back at the three; thankfully lower-level demons. “I just wanted to sleep! Please let me go!” 

They laughed and he blinks away anxiety ridden tears. He was never going to sleep again. Ever. 

Thankfully, after running zigzag for a while through the blackened forest that looked a lot more menacing then it did in the light of day, he almost managed to lose them. His hearing coming into play as a useful tool, alas, even that tiny bit of luck didn’t last long, because in the instant he thought he was in the clear his left leg got caught up in something and he yelped trying to balance himself back into an upright position; bag slipping out of his arms and hitting the ground with a soft thud.  

He tried to pull his leg out from whatever was keeping it trapped, but try as he might, he just couldn’t. He was... stuck. “Damn it,” he hissed; frustrated tears burning in his eyes. “Damn it all,” he huffed; pulling and pulling at his leg to no avail. It only sank deeper into whatever pit he had the misfortune of trotting into.  

“Can’t you give me a break!” He screamed at the sky when he finally realized there was no escaping this pit. “For once in my damn life. Can’t you just let me be!” The tears fell and he rubbed them away furiously. He didn’t want to cry anymore. He didn’t- 

“Oh look what I’ve found,” someone said; One of the demons stepping out of the dark. “A little one just waiting to be gobbled up. Is that why you’re standing out in the open?” 

Zenitsu stiffened; fingers automatically moving toward his sword. This was bad. He couldn’t move and it was too dark to make out anything even with the help of the moon and- 

Swallowing he took a deep breath.‘They are weak,’ he told himself. He could sense it and  Obanai -senpai had said... He could do this. If only – swallowing again, he willed the shaking of his frame to subside. ‘Calm down Zenitsu, ’ he thought.‘Calm down.’  

When the other two demons popped out beside his current foe however, he found his lower lip quivering uncontrollably and he wondered if maybe he was overestimating himself all along, that maybe he was meant for the gallows. Still, taking a firm stance as best as he could he lifted his sword to face the three demons charging at him. He could do this- 

Or not, his mind screamed when two of them jumped back into the shadows and with his keen hearing sense he knew they were circling him from behind and damn it! He couldn’t turn, he couldn’t face them. He was stuck. All he could reach, was the one in front of him.  

Damn it damn it damn it.  

Dread pooled into his gut but despite everything, he couldn’t make himself lower the sword and surrender to his faith. He didn’t want to die like that. He didn’t- 

‘I’ll die by the sword,’  he desperately thought; swinging down at the oncoming demon.‘I’ll die like gramps!’  

He caught the previously grinning demon with a sideway cut to his jugular as he braced himself for the charge and contorted his body to meet the oncoming force.  

The demon’s death was swift and as the blade tore through his neck like needle through cloth, Zenitsu wondered how long it would take before the other two finished him off. 

“Duck you fool!” Someone screamed from above him suddenly, and Zenitsu didn’t even contemplate the harsh order, doing as told in a matter of a second. Flattening himself to the ground and hearing the whoosh of air as someone light soared above him landing on top of one demon and slashing the other’s neck on their way down. Turning around he barely got a glimpse of the death of the third demon as the boy, because he couldn’t be any older than Zenitsu himself, mercilessly drove his sword through the demon’s throat; looking savagely pleased with himself as he did. 

It made a tiny shiver of fear skip through Zenitsu’s spine and it didn’t look to be unfounded because when the kid snapped his neck around to stare at him his eyes narrowed with barely contained anger, Zenitsu thought; for the briefest second, that he saw a monster within him.  

“What the hell’s wrong with you!” the stranger snared, snapping the blonde out of his momentary stupor.  

“Me?” Zenitsu stammered; mouth hanging open.  

“Yes you,” the stranger said; standing up swiftly and pointing his sword at him. At Zenitsu? Was he crazy? “You ruined my trap you imbecile,” the stranger growled; waving his sword around like it wasn’t a dangerous tool that could chop of heads. “What kind of pathetic demon slayer are you?” 

And yeah, that stung but whatever truth may have been behind those words, Zenitsu wasn’t about to let himself be talked down to by a kid his freaking age! 

“Hey,” he snapped; slapping the sword that was too close to his face away. “Be careful with that idiot! Who taught you how to wield a sword anyways? Cuz they did a pretty crappy job!” 

“Fuck you,” the stranger hissed at him, daring to whip him with the blunt side of his sword, and wow, the sheer rudeness of this guy. Zenitsu determined there and then that it didn’t matter that this guy had just saved his life. He’d officially decided that he hated him. 

“You’re crazy,” he screamed; waving his arms around in anger. “Something is seriously wrong with you and I don’t care that you saved my life, just stay the hell away from me!” 

The stranger scoffed having calmed down some; clearly being inflicted by some kind of bizarre mood swings Zenitsu thought. “Gladly,” he said; turning away from him, indicating for all reason and purpose that he was about to do just that. “Just stay out of my way brat .” 

And nop, no. No one called him that except for Obanai-senpai. And the older got away with it only because Zenitsu still hadn’t mustered up the courage to tell him to cut it out. So with a puff of his cheeks, he grabbed the nearest round object out of his bag and chucked it at the idiots head. “Screw you!” he shouted and gleefully watched as the apple knocked perfectly at the back of the other kid’s skull. The strange boy with the scar tipped slightly forward from surprise; letting out a startled grunt before whirling back around when he realized what just happened. 

“Did you just,” he said slowly; face contorting into something ugly. Zenitsu should have been worried, but- 

“Don’t call be a brat, asshole,” he said instead, chin held high and arms crossed. The stranger, to no one’s surprise threw his sword to the ground and charged at him, arms ready to strangle and so they were suddenly clawing and grabbing at each other on the forest floor. Each one unwilling to relent as they hissed foul profanities and tugged and punched every free inch of the other’s body that they could reach. 

Yeah, Zenitsu was never going to trust his instincts ever again.  

Chapter Text

They tussled around for a good long while. Slamming one another into the ground and trying to claw their way into dominance.  

“Get off me!” Zenitsu spat, a mixture of fear and anger bumbling up his throat. The other boy was clearly much stronger than him and Zenitsu didn’t know if he could win this. “Get off me you freak,” he said, reaching up to shove the snarling face further away from him. “Are you crazy or something?” 

“Shut the fuck up!” The wild teen above him hissed, who was currently busy twisting his arm into an unnatural position while his eyes glowed strangely in the dark. “I will end you!” 

Twisting his leg under the other’s knee, Zenitsu took advantage of the stranger's momentary distraction to flip them over. Finally, finally he had the upper hand and the blonde didn’t waste a second to take full advantage and shove the other’s face into the ground. “Just stop,” he screamed.  

If he’d known this was going to happen before he’d thrown that apple... well, he would have still thrown it, but maybe he would have run away before the idiot got a drop on him. “I don’t want to fight you damn it!” 

“Well tough!”  

Again their positions switched and it didn’t look like the strange-animal boy was about to let a measly distraction take away his strong hold this time. Briefly Zenitsu wondered if he was going to die by the hands of a fellow demon slayer who, just a second ago literally saved his life and what would Obanai-senpai even say to that? 

‘He’ll probably die of shame,’ he thought, depression settling into his gut.  

Their spat went on for what felt like forever and didn’t stop until Zenitsu’s head struck the side of a tree and oh- 

A jolt of searing hot flames licked through veins and his body screamed. A nauseating ringing in his left ear made him aware of where exactly the pain was originating from and Zenitsu found himself hunched on his side, soft whimpering noises escaping his lips. Everything hurt and the pressure atop of him suddenly vanished. 

He was too busy trying to muster up the straight to reach up and touch his bandaged ear to even notice the fight coming to a stop.  

“You shouldn’t pick fights with people when you’re already injured, stupid.” 

“Huh?” 

It took Zenitsu a second, even as the ringing in his ear was dimming down to grasp what was being said. “Excuse me?” 

“I said-” the stranger began, but by this point Zenitsu felt good enough to blink open his eyes and stare incredulously at the other boy.  

“Did you just say I started this?” he said; waving the arm not supporting his head around their destroyed surroundings. The other teen shrugged.  

“Of course you did.” 

Zenitsu spluttered. “I didn’t! You jumped me!” 

“You threw a projectile at me first!” 

“It was a freaking apple you dumbass!” 

“And how the hell was I supposed to know that!” 

“It didn’t kill you for starters!” 

“Why you-” It was at that moment it most have occurred to the stranger how utterly dumb and phenomenally stupid their conversation was because his mouth clicked shut with a snap and he sighed. “Just stay out of my way kid,” he said as he stood up, brushed himself off and turned around to pick up his sword.  

“We’re the same age!” Zenitsu fired back; pushing himself into a sitting position and glaring after the other as he disappeared behind the trees. It was only after the ringing in his ear had fully come to a stop and his muscle pain had dulled down to a quiet throb that it occurred to Zenitsu fully the kind of situation he was in.  

In less than a minute he’d grabbed everything of his possession and sprinted into the forest after the other teen. “Wait up!” he called out; frantically searching for the boy who’d both assaulted and rescued him. “Don’t leave me here alone!” 

Zenitsu was fast, and it didn’t take him very long to find the other. 

“Ouch,” he muttered; coming to abrupt halt when his face smashed into a sturdy back and he found himself tumbling backwards and barely catching himself before his butt once again met the ground.  

“Oh for God sake. What do you want now!” The other kid had turned around to look at him; face scrunched up in disgust and lips pulled apart into a very impressive snare. Zenitsu gulped.  

“Um, I...I just,” twiddling his thumps he looked up to meet the other’s gaze. “Maybe we should stick together? I just think we can keep each other safe!” he blurted out when it became rather clear that the other wasn’t giving his suggestion much thought. “It can’t be that bad!” 

“Listen weirdo,” the other teen said; leaning down so they were at eye-level. “Stay the fuck away from me. I’m not going to save your sorry butt a second time. Now get lost!” 

Well....damn. 

“Fine,” Zenitsu huffed; cheeks flushing red. “I don’t even know why I offered. Go die by yourself for all I care.” 

There was no easy way out of here for him after all.  

Standing up, he stuck his tongue out and marched away. “Who needs a douche like you anyways!” 

“Says the crybaby!” Was shot after him and Zenitsu was proud that he didn’t let the temptation of turning around to fire something back overpower him. Instead he held his head high and resolutely walked away.  

The rest of the night was spent trying not to get eaten by demons and hiding for most part in a tree while ignoring the distressing ache that was his left ear.  

By the time the blessed sun came to greet the sky Zenitsu had broken into cold sweat; skin clammy and eyes bruised. His mouth felt like it carried a tang of sickness and his ear had started to ring again. The energy it took to get down the tree nearly did him in. 

Two days, two days had passed since he split up with Obanai-senpai which meant that it had been two days since his ear had last been treated. For some reason; despite how all his other injuries had healed up nicely, his chopped up left ear continued to keep bleeding long after it was supposed heal and both Obanai-senpai and Hanako-san believed it to be poisoned somehow leaving Zenitsu quite distressed at the fact. Alas, it was what it was and so far, Obanai-senpai had held a firm grasp on the healing process, always double then triple checking the progress but since they parted ways Zenitsu hadn’t been able to muster up the courage to look at it, and well, he was definitely paying for it now. 

Sliding down the tree he let his himself rest against the bark and allowed his eyes to finally fall shut. Morning meant no demons so he could afford to- 

And just like that he was out. A blissful sleep and well-deserved rest finally. 

His throat clogging up and the sudden inability to breath was what shook him back into reality. Startled his eyes snapped open and his arm flew up to his neck.  

His mouth let out a gurgling sound and it was all the warning he got before he was twisting away from his bag and hurling the content of his stomach onto the grass.  

“Oh God,” he muttered, taking a shaky breath and after a minute, scooping up handful of dirt to cover up the sick. “I don’t feel good.” 

Blinking back the sting in his eyes, he swallowed thickly and slumped fully into himself. The blaring hot sun providing both comfort and discomfort to his ailing body.  

He must have caught something, or- 

Reaching up he gently brushed the tip of his fingers against the bandaged part of his head. And- 

Pain -- he recoiled back, and when he eventually brought that hand over to his eyes what met his gaze was blood. 

“I’m going to die aren’t I?” he muttered. 

Well that was just great. Obanai-senpai left him for literally two days and in that span of time he’d almost gotten killed by demons, attacked by a he-beast and now was going to succumb to some weird demon poison because he was too much of a coward to take care of it properly. 

No wonder gramps and senpai... no wonder they.... 

Biting his lip, he let his arms fall lifelessly on his lap. They were shaking. Jerking and moving without his command. Zenitsu was tired. So so tired. 

“I can’t stay here,” he muttered. “I can’t stay here.” 

It took him what felt like forever, but ultimately, he gathered enough strength to push himself away from the tree and crawl his way over to his bag.  

‘Keep moving, ’ that’s what Obanai-senpai had said. ‘Even if only a little. Never stop moving brat.’  

So with a new set of determination cloaking his shoulders, he started rummaging in his bag until he found his prepackaged meal and... the accursed medical kit.  

‘Might as well,’  he thought, but first – Opening the foil, he sighed in pure blissful happiness at the smell of the sandwich. His stomach rolled slightly, but hell, Zenitsu was too hungry to even notice it at this point so he happily began to munch on the cold treat as he let his eyes scan across the small clearing he’d found his way to the night before. Frowning slightly, he chewed his next bite thoroughly before allowing the disappointment to fully sink in.  

“Damn it Zenitsu,” he muttered; musing up at the sky. 

From the way the sun was positioned, it was somewhere around evening time right now which meant he’d effectively wasted a whole day sitting around.  

He really needed to take care of his ear because if he didn’t - he could say goodbye to ever reaching that village in time and dying of infection in the middle of a forest filled with demons wasn’t on his current to-do list. Plus, Zenitsu was sure that Obanai-senpai wouldn’t appreciate being bandage buddies for the rest of time. 

“Ok,” he said when the sandwich was done and consumed. “I can do this.” 

Some energy had finally returned back to his limps and he didn’t feel as nauseated or as sick as he’d felt moments ago, so now was the time to check on his ear, clean it up, disinfect it and rebandage.  

Easy.... right? 

“Gaaah!” he screamed, running his fingers frantically through his hair. “I can’t do this!”  

And then he howled with pain because damn it! His ear hurt! 

“Ok Zenitsu. Just calm down.” Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and cleared his mind. He could do this. He knew he could. Obanai-senpai knew he could. He wouldn’t have left him here if he didn’t believe in him so.... He needed to calm down. 

His eyes stung, his nose felt stuffed and his fingers shook, but eventually Zenitsu managed to reach for the medical kit and click it open with little to no trouble.  

And now, he was staring at it. 

Because Agatsuma Zenitsu had no idea what any of those shiny tools in the med kit even meant. He should have listened more closely to Obanai-senpai's explanation. But how should he have known that he senpai was planning to bail on him for a whole week in a demon infested forest with nothing but his wits and sword to defend him! 

Ok, he could do this.  

First - “Need to cut of the gauze,” he thought out loud; picking up the small blade and bringing it up to his ear before coming to an abrupt stop. 

“Damn it,” he shouted, throwing the knife away. “I can’t get anything right!” 

“This is just depressing to look at.” 

Startled he turned to look at whoever had decided to interrupt his current panic mode and lo and behold if it wasn’t the he-beast from before. 

“You,” he said; voice bleeding into a level of unimpressed disinterest even Obanai-senpai would have been proud of. The stranger huffed where he was leaning against a boulder on the opposite side of the clearing.  

“Yes me,” he snapped. “No wonder your ear got so bad if you’re that afraid to even take a proper look at it.” 

“That’s not true,” Zenitsu retorted, once again feeling his face flaming up. “I was going to do it after I went fishing is all.” 

“Sure,” his intruder said, dragging out the word as he made his way cross the clearing and over to him. “Have you ever even treated an injury before?” 

Of course Zenitsu hadn’t. 

“Of course I have,” he said. 

It didn’t look like the strange boy believed him nor did he care to respond, instead he reached out a hand towards him and said. “Give it here.” 

Needless to say, Zenitsu was confused. “What?” 

The he-beast sighed. “I said let me do it. You’re clearly willing to let yourself die and even though I wouldn’t mind, Himejima-san would be disappointed if I let a demon slayer die on my watch.” 

“Oh.” 

For some reason that name triggered a kind of recognition in Zenitsu that he just couldn’t place at the moment. 

“Yeah.” Waving his fingers impatiently, the other teen frowned even deeper. “Hand it over already.” 

And just like that Zenitsu found himself sitting across from a stranger he didn’t even know the name of as the other boy carefully; and with surprising gentleness treated his wound. “Wow,” he whistled after peeling off the two days old bandages. “What the hell happened to your ear?” 

“A demon,” Zenitsu winced; trying not to shout in pain with every jostle made against his ear. 

“You do know half of it is missing right?” 

“I know!” 

The stranger shrugged. “Just saying and...” here he leaned forward to sniff the air. “It doesn’t smell right?” 

“What do you mean?” 

Horror climbed up Zenitsu’s throat but before he could go into a full-blown panic attack a punch to the gut made him gasp. 

“Calm the fuck down loser,” the strange teen said; fishing something out of his own bag and carefully uncorking it. “I think there is still some residual poison from the demon left in your ear. Himejima-san gave me this antidote from the butterfly estate. Said it should work on practically everything on the lower levels. Not that I practically need it,” he muttered before dipping a balled-up cotton into it and setting the bottle down. “Now hold still or I’ll be forced to hold you down.” 

Zenitsu swallowed before nodding. 

The cleaning of his halved ear was the most painful part of the whole process and it didn’t help that the other boy was very thorough with his work. Not relenting one-bit despite how much Zenitsu howled in pain. “Just hold still damn it,” the other said; one hand grasping the blonde’s chin while the other worked on getting mucus off his torn-up flesh. “If you don’t stop moving, I’ll knock your ass out!” 

But eventually, as most things do, this hellish procedure did come to an end. “Done,” the teen said; setting aside the antidote before starting on re-bandaging the ear. “You can stop looking like death warmed over now.” 

Easy for him to say. 

“It hurts ok!” 

He-beast snorted. “I know what hurt feels like and you’re being over-dramatic.” 

“Hey!” 

A pair of dark orbs slid over to look at him briefly before refocusing on his injury. “What’s your name anyways?” 

Zenitsu blinked, shocked. He wanted to know his name? 

“Well?” 

This guy was so strange. 

“Zenitsu. Agatsuma Zenitsu.”  

The stranger nodded. “Shinazugawa Genya,” he said and Zenitsu grinned. 

Would you look at that. Crazy, gruff and psychotic did have some manners. “Nice to meet you Shinazugawa-san,” he said. 

The other teen looked at him again before looking away. “Genya is fine,” he said eventually, and the blonde found himself smiling even wider. “Zenitsu is fine for me too.” 

Genya scoffed. “As if I would have called you anything else, loser.” 

“Hey!” 

A round of bickering began yet again but the minute is started to die down, Zenitsu took that opportunity to ask the question that had been burning him with curiosity all this time. “Genya?” 

“Hm?” 

“What are you doing in this forest anyways?” 

The other boy was just about done with his ear and didn’t answer him until his hands finally moved away from his ear. It was only then he fully looked at him to answer. “I’m training,” he said; a proud grin splitting his mouth open. “I ran away from Himejima-san to train and get better on my own. I need to prove myself to him and I can’t do it if he’s always looking over my shoulder.” 

“You willingly came here!” 

“Of course,” Genya scoffed. “How else am I going to be strong enough to take the final selection. I need to be the best and I can’t be the best if I’m just running after a pillar and using him for protection. That’s just stupid.” 

And ouch again. 

Genya really knew how to push his buttons without even knowing he was doing it. And ah, that’s where he’d heard that name. Himejima-san was a pillar. Obanai-senpai occasionally talked about them. 

“Himejima-san is really great!” The other boy continued; cleaning his hands with water from his flask as he continued to practically gush over his master. “He is so strong and talented, and you should see him fight because he’s blind right! But it doesn’t affect him at all and-” here he turned to grin at Zenitsu and it was so infectious that it made the blonde smile in return. “I’m really happy he chose to train me. What about you Zenitsu? What are you doing here?” 

Sudden flush of shame dyed his cheeks red and he looked away from the other. Remembering how he cried when he realized that Obanai-senpai had left him. That incident suddenly felt so pathetic he couldn’t even make himself meet the other’s gaze.  

Genya had run away to prove himself and- 

Obanai-senpai had to run away from him so that he could prove himself. How sad was that? 

Shaking his head, he bit his lip and ruffled his hair lightly. “No reason really,” he said. “It was just the shortest path to the village I’m heading to is all. By the way,” he said; trying to change the topic. “Since you’re a demon slayer too, what’s your breath style! Is it like Himejima-san's?” 

A harmless question. Or what should have been a harmless question, but suddenly the air turned cold and all colors drained from Genya’s face. 

“It’s none of your business,” he snapped, shooting up to his feet.  

“Wha-” 

“Mind your own business brat!” 

What the hell was going on? 

The sun had started to set and beside the tiny clearing they were standing in pitch blackness had settled over the forest and made it harder for Zenitsu to make out the other’s face, but it didn’t mean he wasn’t trying. 

“Genya?” he called out; scrambling to his feet as well. “What’s up with you?” 

This guy had some serious mood swings that’s for sure. 

“Nothing,” the other huffed; fastening his sword and turning away. “I’ve helped you so I’m done here. I have training to do.” 

What?  

“Genya!” 

Was it something he said?  

“Just leave me alone damn it!” the other teen roared and- 

“I just asked-” 

And from that one moment of argument between them to the next, Genya – he... Genya was sliced clean through.  

It was as if the world came to a standstill for breath of a second. Capturing both boys’ gaze in a momentary stunned disbelief as Genya fell apart where he stood the blade that went through him stuck in the tree next to him. Blood so much blood. 

Zenitsu screamed. 

Chapter Text

“Sanemi is missing again.”  

“Is he now.” Obanai didn’t know why he was remotely surprised by this. “For how long?”  

“A week,” Mitsuri answered; a slight lint of worry curving her voice. “Oyakata-sama is concerned.”  

The snake pillar frowned; fingers drumming a random pattern on the damp cave floor. Shinazugawa was nothing but trouble ninety percent of the time and now that he was missing, he was creating nothing but chaos in his absence. A week was too long. If he’d been there -   

“What happened?”  

Mitsuri shrugged, taking a quick bite out of her sandwich, deliberately delaying her answer.   

The snake pillar frowned at her but didn’t try to rush her. Their mission had gone relatively well and Obanai was grateful. He didn’t want to admit it but his injuries were still on the mending side and too much strain could set him back for weeks so the ease with which the mission had gone left him relieved. It helped that Mitsuri had been there too. Without her, well, it was nice to know someone competent was around to have his back.   

But when Mitsuri raised the sandwich back to her mouth again, he’d had enough.   

Kicking the other pillar’s leg he glared her down from taking another bite. She pouted at him, he tapped her leg again and her shoulders dropped, a tired frown gracing the corners of her mouth. It was clear she didn’t want to talk about it but if she hadn’t wanted to, she shouldn’t have brought it up in the first place.  

“What happened?” he asked again, gentler this time.  

“I don’t know,” Mitsuri said looking down and out the cave opening. The rain had yet to let up and through her matted bangs Kanroji Mitsuri looked more miserable than he’d seen her in a while. “He’s hurting.”   

So is everyone, he wanted to say but bit it back. Choosing instead to listen to her explanation.  

Sighing, she hunched even further into herself; casting a longing gaze at the prepackaged meal around them as if there was some form of escape hidden under their wrappings. “Little Sanemi hasn’t written to him in a while.”  

Obanai’s fingers stilled. “His brother? Genya?”  

She nodded.  

He frowned. “Why is he bothered by that. He never reads those letters anyways”  

Pink cheeks puffed out in exasperation and an involuntary part of Obanai’s heart twisted at the adorable expression. “How would you know?” she said; clear disagreement coloring her tone. Obanai lifted a single eyebrow.   

“We have done plenty of missions together and I’ve seen him toss them unopened in the fire.”  

“That’s awful.”  

He shrugged. “It’s how he is.”  

Taking a bite out of her sandwich and then stuffing the whole thing in her mouth when she noticed Obanai was not planning on stopping her, the love pillar chewed in silent thought for a while. A comfortable quite falling over them as they stared out into the billowing rain, legs pressed into each other and backs resting against opposite walls.   

“Even if he doesn’t read them,” she finally said, swallowing hard. “It doesn’t mean not receiving them won’t still bother him. It could mean little Sanemi is dead and that most scare him.”  

What a ridiculous notion, Obanai thinks, but-  

A flash of blonde hair and bright wobbly smile flashes through his mind and he’s not too sure about his opinion anymore. “He’ll show up eventually.” Is what he says in the end. “He always does.”  

Mitsuri nods and that’s that.  

“I need to talk to you about something else,” he finally says after a solid break in conversation turns into an awkward silence.  

 It’s a legit concern that he has and he wouldn’t be talking to anyone else outside of Oyakata-sama but this is Mitsuri and if he can’t trust her with this, who could he?  

Something of an understanding passes through her eyes and she scoots over so that her right leg is closer to his hip and after a second of contemplation he lifts his hand from the ground to circle lightly around her ankle. It’s calming in a way. Her presence.   

“Is it about your kid?”   

He scoffs. “He’s not my kid but yes. It’s about the brat.”  

She bumps into him lightly. “That’s mean Obanai. Don’t call him that.” He does not designate that with answer but he does bump here back.  

“I need you to look into something for me.”  

Mitsuri’s concern is quite obvious at this point. Her brows are furrowed close together and there is this tiny crinkle right under her left eye and Obanai shouldn’t be focusing on that right now -  

“Anyways,” he coughs. “Would you do it?”  

She clearly doesn’t know what it is but...”Sure,” she says. “What do you need me to do?”  

He almost smiles at her unshakable trust in him. Almost  

“For reasons Oyakata-sama and I have yet to figure out, Kibutsuji Muzan wants the thunder breathers dead. He’s never wanted that before so this sudden turn of evident are quite concerning.”  

“Muzan wants your kid dead?”  

Obanai nods. “The rest are already gone but Agatsuma is alive and now Muzan knows that too. We killed the demons that found him but that doesn’t matter with Muzan as anything they see he sees too.”  

She hums in thought. “Why the thunder breathers?”   

“I’m not sure,” he says; feeling just as confused as she does. “But Kuwajima-san sent a message to Oyakata-sama a week before his murder. It was encoded and talked about an urgent business matter he needed to discuss with him and now-”  

“He’s dead.” Mitsuri finished. “It can’t be a coincident.”  

He shook his head. “No it can’t and we need to know why. Can you look into it?”  

Mitsuri’s face tightened and her eyes turned to stone. “I can,” she said. “I’ll try and retrace Kuwajima-san's steps and try to figure out what he was working on before the attack.”  

An edge of worry slithered through the snake pillar’s heart and he found himself squeezing her ankle; fingers almost digging into her flesh. “Be careful,” he said. “I’m sure you’re not the only one who has thought to do so.”  

Flushed cheeks and a gentle smile are what he’s met with. “Don’t worry about me Obanai. I will not rush into anything brashly.”  

“Good.”  

“Good.”  

Silence falls over them yet again and Obanai busies himself feeding the tiny flames licking against the branches from the pile of dry wood near his travel bag. When he was sufficiently pleased with the rising flames, he finally takes notice of his gut clawing at his inside. The hunger is too much to ignore at this point and he carefully looks at the food strewn around them.   

Most of their meal had been an unfortunate guest of the river they’d slipped into during their battle and now they looked less appetizing then the seeded rolls served at the estate. Alas, Obanai was never one to refuse a meal on a hungry stomach, so he picks a dry one up; and takes a bite. He coughs.  

Disgusting.  

Spitting on the floor he reached out blindly for the water stowed away in his bag; chugging it all in one go while silently vowing never to eat anything with wet butter ever again.  

A snort from the other side made him pause. “They’re not that bad Obanai.”  

“Speak for yourself. This can’t even me constituted as food.” Another snort.   

“Picky eater as always I see.”  

He glares. She smiles.   

“Whatever,” he said and her smile only grew before it suddenly dimmed. He blinked. “What?”  

“You seem troubled Obanai.”  

“I’m not.”  

The love pillar tapped his leg lightly and smiled, it was a soft smile this time, one meant to reassure. “You didn’t only come here to ask me to look into the villains of our story. Something has been bothering you ever since our mission started. Nearly got you killed because of how distracted you were, so what is it?”  

A passing moment of nothingness danced between them and the snake pillar contemplated for a second if he should let the matter stay his to deal with but, this was Mitsuri. If he couldn’t share his worries with her-  

“I’m planning to leave the kid with the Yamuaras’. Tell me I’m doing the right thing.”  

Mitsuri doesn’t tell him that, she doesn’t tell him much of anything. Instead she asks a question. “Do you think you’re doing the right thing?” Making Obanai scowl.   

“I didn’t ask you so you could turn it around on me.”  

The girl that makes his heart do tiny flips scoffs at him. “You didn’t ask me anything,” she says. “You want me to confirm your own decisions and I’m sorry Obanai,” here she twists her overly bright pink braid between her fingers and smiles abashedly at him. “I can’t do that.”  

He sighs. Of course she can’t do that. Since when has Mitsuri ever made anything easy for him. “What do you think about him?” he asked instead, picking up a stick before he starts to poke at the fire. “The kid I mean.”  

The love pillar takes a moment to contemplate her answer and that’s a good thing. It means she’s actually taking him seriously. “I haven’t met the poor boy,” she starts; pulling at her lip with her teeth. “So I can’t say anything about his character but you seem to like him and that speaks volumes to me. Plus, you don’t whine about him nearly as much as you whine about everyone else so more points in his favor.”  

“He cries a lot.”  

Kanroji grins. “Nothing wrong with a little water work Obanai.”  

“Mitsuri,” he huffed. “It’s not only that. Kid can barely do anything of note and he only knows one style. One style he can utilize only when knocked out. That’s a death sentence.”  

The seriousness of the conversation seems to sink into the other pillar at that point, because she sits up straighter and her gaze takes on an analytic hue. “Have you been working with him?” she asked. He nods. “And Kuwajima-san most have too,” she continues. “So maybe he isn’t all that talented?”  

Obanai is shaking his head long before she finishes her sentence. “I’ve seen him fight Mitsuri. He’s very talented. What he lacks is self-confidence and self-respect.”  

The love pillar takes another pause. “Do you think you can train it out of him?” Worry is swimming through her eyes. “If Kuwajima-san did something to paint a target on his back, Muzan will eventually send demons after him again.”   

Obanai finds himself sighing.  

“I’m trying and I do believe he will get better with time, but his progress is slow and he’ll be safer at the estate then with me. So long as he doesn’t wander out he will be fine tucked away with people that both knew Kuwajima-san and are willing to protect him if needed.”  

“You’ve really thought this through haven’t you?”  

He nodded. “Tell me I’m doing the right thing Mitsuri.”  

She doesn’t. “But it’s not your decision to make,” she says instead.  

He blinks. “What?”  

And Matsuri kind of curls into herself but she is still so very determined to put her point across and God no wonder he lo – stop, he tells himself. Just stop.  

“What about Agatsuma’s choice?” she asks; thankfully interrupting him from his thoughts. “You said he wants to travel with you. You said he wants to avenge his family so what about his choice?”  

“He doesn’t know what’s best for him,” he said before he can even think through his words.  

“Well that’s not fair to him,” was Mitsuri’s quickly shot back reply. “You can’t make such big life altering decisions for him Obanai. And what happens when he doesn’t stay put? What if he goes by himself and then get himself killed? Could you live with that?”  

No, no he couldn’t.  

Another Haruo-kun. Another dead kid because he didn’t make the right decision. Because he didn’t do enough.  

Mitsuri smiles. “You have to talk to him. I’m sure you both can figure it out together. Besides,” she said; a tiny bit of mischief dancing in her eyes. “You clearly don’t want to leave him behind so why force yourself to?”  

Whatever scandalized look most have come across his face makes her only laugh. “Don’t even try that with me Obanai,” she says, nothing but mirth in her voice. “Maru-chan isn’t here and you never go anywhere without him so~”  

The snake pillar has nothing to say to that so he settles for the obvious. “He hates it when you call him that.” Mitsuri only shrugs.   

“He’s just shy.”  

Honestly, this woman.  

“A choice?” he finally repeats.  

She nods. “Yeah.”   

He could do that. His mind was already set and in no circumstance was he taking the kid with him but, a choice he could give him that. He wasn’t going to follow through with it and he was sure he would be able to convince the kid to change his mind but, still the brat liked to be listened to so he’ll try and give him the illusion of a choice.  

Looking back out the cave entrance he watches the rain fall and allows himself to relax for the first time. Bandaging up his mouth again he sighs. “Thank you Mitsuri.”  

He sees her bright smile from the corner of his eye and almost finds himself echoing it back. Meeting her, it was nice to know there was someone in the world he didn’t have to worry about. But then Mitsuri shivers. Her slightly blue tinted fingers pressed together in her lap and her gaze is apologetic when he looks back at her and well, she looks more or less like a drowned, pre-dried rat at this point and Obanai shakes his head; a vague sense of fondness settling in his chest.  

“That’s what happens when you don’t dress appropriately for the weather,” he huffs, making her frown at him through her now brittle bangs.  

“How could I have known-” she starts but Obanai has already thrown open his giant winter coat for her and by her sudden scramble she clearly knew what she was manipulating him into.  

After tucking herself into his side with a content sigh, the snake pillar can’t fully resist drawing small circles on the palm of her hand which only makes her laugh lightly. “Oh my,” she says. “Isn’t this scandalous.”  

“Shut up,” he mutters, resting his cheek atop of her head. “No one is watching.” 

Chapter Text

“Genya,” he screamed. “Genya.” 

But the other boy was not responding and, how could he? He was - “Genya,” he screamed again. “Please I... please!” 

Was he cursed? Was that it? One evening spent with him and it had gotten his potential friend killed. He’d gotten him killed and Genya had been a good person. A gruff but nice person. He’d saved his life, bandaged up his ear and – How was this fair? Between the both of them, why Genya? 

A dry sob tore its way through his chest and his eyes swelled up. It was all he could do not to tune out his environment and thank God he didn’t because in a second another blade flew through the air and missed him by an inch. Swiveling around in the direction from which the offending weapon hailed from, Zenitsu clumsily fumbled for his sword blinking away the wetness in his eyes as quickly as possible. “Show yourself,” he called out; voice breaking at the top. “Show yourself you coward.” 

Night had fallen around them except for the small clearing they’d been sitting and talking in just moments ago. It was hard to see anything passed the tree lines and Zenitsu was sure that’s exactly where the demon was hiding. “Come out and fight,” he screamed, steeling himself despite the trembling crawling up his body. “If you’re here to kill us show your face!” He was scared, of course he was scared, but this time, this time he wasn’t going to run away. Whoever it was, it had killed Genya. Mercilessly cut through him and he’d seen it. The shock, the surprise. Genya hadn’t seen it coming and – swallowing thickly he corrected his stance like Obanai-senpai had taught him and carefully began to expand his hearing outwards. “If you won’t show yourself, I will come find you!”  

And he would. He would find the demon and end it. He didn’t know how to do it or even if he could, but Genya he.... 

Another blade split the shadows apart heading for his throat and Zenitsu ducked down and tucked himself into a roll before springing back to his feet. There. The demon was right across the boulder. Probably a couple of steps behind the forest line. 

‘You can do it,’ he told himself; taking a careful step in the direction of the trees.‘For Genya. Do it for Genya.’  

He wasn’t going to die here. He was going to bring Genya back to his family and he was going to avenge him. One person. This time. Gramps and Kaigaku-senpai their justice, the village’s justice was far away, but Genya’s was right here. He couldn’t fail him. He wouldn’t. So taking a deep breath he- 

“Stop fucking around and finish him!” 

What the... Zenitsu flinched were he stood; momentarily losing his balance and almost tipping over, something the hidden demon clearly noticed for another blade was again hurtled through the air and towards his person. Shouting in shock he scrambled away from it while muttering in terror under his breath. 

Oh God. “Genya’s ghost is haunting me,” he said; a hysteric sob escaping passed his lips. “Genya is haunting me. Oh my God, Genya is haunting me!” 

“No you idiot! And stop getting distracted or you’ll die!” 

“I’m sorry,” he wailed; not even daring to look at the dismantled body of the other boy. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen like Obanai-senpai taught me and I’m sorry that my curse got you killed too. I’m sorry!” 

“What the fuck are you even talking about?” 

Zenitsu was sufficiently freaked out at this point. Because why the hell... Genya’s body hadn’t even had time to cool so why was he already haunting him? Hadn’t he suffered enough? 

‘No,’ his inner mind snared.‘How could you ever suffer enough when all you bring to the living his death and sorrow,’ and yeah, that was true... So maybe he did deserve this. Maybe Gramps and Kaigaku-senpai weren’t haunting him because they were kind and didn’t want him to know that they were in pain and tied to this earth because their deaths hadn’t been avenged and- 

“Look out moron!” 

Another blade shot towards his head and if not for the warning, Zenitsu was sure his body would be lying right next to Genya’s right now. 

Ducking again and squeezing his way behind a couple of fallen logs he closed his eyes and tried his best not to cry. “Thank you Genya-ghost,” he whispered into the air. “You didn’t have to save me, but I always knew you were kind.” 

“What the fuck are you talking about brat,” the voice snapped; somewhere a bit further away. “I can’t hear you. And you better get your shit together because the sun is going down real soon and this clearing won’t keep you safe!” 

‘Wow,’ Zenitsu thought, carefully peeping out from behind the log. ‘Genya-ghost is really helpful.’  

And there it was. The demon. Now that he wasn’t standing around like a live bait it had slowly slinked its way out of its hiding spot and Zenitsu could clearly make it out through the little light emitted by the sunset.  

It was now or never. 

Genya might be gone but he was still here. Still here to make sure Zenitsu got this right and he would get this right. The fourth style allowed him to attack from distance and he hadn’t yet perfected it but it was still the only one he had any sort of grasp on so he would do it. For Genya. For gramps. For Kaburamaru. And for Obanai-senpai who believed in him more than anyone else. He could do this. 

Taking a deep breath, he tightened his grip around his sword and then without a second thought to distract or hinder him in his vengeance he vaulted over the fallen long and dashed towards the demon. By the time its eyes landed upon him Zenitsu was already lifting his blade and taking his stance. The stance Obanai-senpai had drilled into him for days. 

“Breath of Thunder Fourth style: Distant Thunder!”  

He swung his blade. A perfect arc downward of the glinting metal, quickly followed by a cross over it creating an x shape hovering over the ground. On a good day the sizzling flashes of bright electricity would have spun around into the brightest rays of light before hurtling towards the direction of the enemy, but this wasn’t a good day. None of Zenitsu’s days were good days anymore. So, the x exploded with a loud boom. Shaking the forest with whitening light and throwing Zenitsu straight across the clearing and into an unfortunately placed tree. 

His chest rattled and his teeth nicked his tongue from the surprised clench of his jaw as he smashed into the tree with a force his body couldn’t fully handle. Still, the explosion felt a lot smaller than it should have been and the blonde forced himself to sit up with a painful groan, when a screech promising horror and violence greeted his ears. 

Pressing a slightly singed hand across his chest; grateful that the light hadn’t blinded him, he stared through a blurry vision and got a glimpse of the demon disintegrating into ashes. 

Well, at least he got that one right. 

Turns out after failing a million and one times, even your mistakes can backlash into decent results. Who would have thought? Pushing himself back onto his feet, Zenitsu wobbled for a second but planting his sword into the ground helped him find his balance.  

His ears were still ringing from the explosion but as far as Zenitsu could tell, nothing else seemed to be too out of order. 

Would you look at that. He finally caught a break. And now- 

Blinking furiously against the upcoming waterworks that would inevitably crash over his eyes, he carefully scanned his surroundings, wanting and not wanting to see Genya’s mutilated corps. 

The sun had almost fully descended on the other side which made it a lot harder to spot anything even a couple of feats away. But then a few wet coughs and- “Oi Zenitsu. Brat, you out there? I saw what you did. You alive or what?” lashed onto his ears. 

There was something close to worry lacing the familiar tone and Zenitsu he... Swallowing thickly he rubbed at his eyes and took in a shuddering breath. “It’s done Genya-ghost,” he called out; knowing that the other wouldn’t have any more reason to hang around anymore, and why did that hurt? “You can rest in peace now.” 

“What the hell are you talking about idiot. Come help me!” 

Ok, maybe... Maybe Genya wasn’t - he didn’t sound dead and his voice was coming from – and.... But how? 

“Zenitsu!” 

“Coming,” he said; voice barely above a whisper as he scrambled over to Genya’s two-part corps. Maybe he would find peace if he buried him. That was it! He forgot to bury the other! 

Both his hands and legs were shaking by the time he crossed the short distance and found himself standing over the corps. He still couldn’t find it in himself to look down on the other and see the- But again Genya didn’t give him much of a choice. “Oi Zenitsu,” came his hoarse voice; it sounded suspiciously weak. How come the afterlife didn’t give him his full strength back? 

“Yeah?” he said; still keeping his eyes fully trained on the horizon. 

“Help me push.... I’m.... Zenitsu.” 

And now the blonde couldn’t help but actually look down and what the hell! 

Because almost right at his feet weren’t two separate body parts anymore. But rather two parts that were being pushed closer and closer together by arms shaking with strain and exhaustion. 

“You’re immortal!” He screamed. What the hell. What the actual hell. Genya was fucking immortal! “Why didn’t you say anything?” 

“I tried,” Genya said through clenched teeth; still trying to drag his lower body closer, blood everywhere. And Zenitsu should probably help him with that. 

“Do you need...?” he started and a leveling glare from the other told him all he needed to know before he was dropping down to his knees and actually partaking in this bizarre venture of shoving Genya back together. And how bizarre was that. 

Because as soon as his two halves met, they began to stitch themselves together. Bones stretched to meet bones, nerves intertwined as if never split before and flesh bridged the gaps between them to create a new torso. Zenitsu was horrified and unable to look away. 

All the while Genya had started to mutter a prayer under his breath. Zenitsu blinked up at him in surprise. The Amida Sutra? Is that what’s keeping him alive? The blonde was thoroughly confused, and he had so many questions but more than anything. He was so so happy that Genya was alive. That Genya hadn’t died. He- 

“Stop cry..ng,” Genya hissed as soon as he noticed the fresh tears trailing down Zenitsu’s cheeks. “I’m...fine.” 

And all Zenitsu could do was nod vigorously, unable to say anything passed his quivering lips as he reached out clumsily to clutch one of the blood-stricken hands of Genya. The other boy paused for a second and Zenitsu was sure he was going to be shaken of, but all the other teen did was squeeze his fingers in return before lying back down on the ground and closing his eyes.  

“I’m tired,” he finally said, and Zenitsu nodded. 

“Me too.” 

They stayed like that for a while and honestly, Zenitsu would have been fine staying their all night long. Knowing that Genya was some immortal being who hadn’t actually died because he was associating himself with him had lifted a large burden of his shoulders but apparently that wasn’t enough for Genya himself because after five minutes of blissful quiet his eyes snapped open and he was already trying to force himself back into a sitting position. 

“Hey hey hey,” Zenitsu said, trying to keep him down but Genya only slapped him away. 

“We need...to... get out of here. Demons,” he said. Some colors had slowly returned back to his cheeks, but he still looked gaunt and Zenitsu was afraid moving him even a little might literally split him back in two, but Genya was also right. Night had fully embraced the skies and it would only be a matter of time before demons were at their heels. So with a tiny frustrated sighed, he grabbed his new companion around the middle; slightly above where he was sure he’d been divided in half and slowly angled him back on his feet. All the while the other was grunting and wincing but was surprisingly keeping any loud noises under lock and key. Zenitsu wasn’t sure he would be strong enough to do the same. 

When they were both finally standing on both feet, Zenitsu’s ears picked up loud shuffling noises coming closer from behind them and with that motivation to spur them on, the two of them took off at the fasted speed the injured party could handle. 

It was a slow going, but eventually a cave came into view and Zenitsu almost sighed in relief, if his lungs weren’t already fighting a losing battle against the simple action of breathing. 

“Have,” he puffed. “Anyone ever...told you...you’re...heavy?” 

Genya just scoffed. “Don’t justify your weakness. It’s pathetic.” 

Ok, now he remembered. 

He knew he disliked Genya for a reason. Feeling better didn’t give him a license to insult him damn it! Especially since he himself was busy carrying half of Genya’s ungrateful weight.  

Disposing the other; not so gently on the floor after finally making it into the cave, Zenitsu sighed in relief. Standing up fully he stretched his back and only stopped when a satisfying pop echoed across the cave walls.  

“I think I’ll make full recovery,” he said; grinning down at the scowling Genya. 

“Dramatic and sad,” the other teen fired back. “That’s the only two words that define your entire personality and I’ve only known you for a day.” 

“You’re literally the meanest person I know, do you get that?” Zenitsu said; and yeah, his eyes stung a bit but not for the reason one might think. The blonde was just happy that the he-beast was still alive and kicking. That he hadn’t perished or left him like everyone else in his life and that was just such a relief he might have legitimately contemplated just sitting down and crying his eyes out, but alas, no time for that either. 

“I don’t care for your thin-skinned stupidity,” Genya said and well, Zenitsu kicked him. Not too hard but still, he deserved it. Stupid Genya. Why the hell did he miss him at all? 

“Hey!” 

“You deserved that and you know it!” 

“I will kil-” 

A loud noise from the outside forced their bickering into a screeching halt. Zenitsu froze; ears immediately tuning into their surrounding area and yup, demons. Lots and lots of demons. 

“How many?” 

Looking down at the teen who’d just come back from the dead, Zenitsu found himself once again fearing for their lives. “Too many,” he whispered. Genya met his expression with a grimace and then with horror when his hand went to his hip and all he came away with was the hilt of a sword. 

“It most have been snapped in half during-” He started. 

“’During your murder,” Zenitsu finished; real panic finally grasping his soul. They were going to die here. One demon. He couldn’t even handle one demon before and now he was supposed to both defend Genya; who he was sure probably couldn’t resurrect twice in a row and fight a hoard of monsters at the same time? How was that fair? Why couldn’t life just give him a break? 

And now he could finally hear them without any enhanced senses. Loud howls and threats for blood and death. Demons were coming for them and Zenitsu was alone. All alone. 

“Give me your sword Zenitsu.” 

“What?” 

Turning away from the cave entrance he’d unconsciously begun to face; his eyes met the steely once of Genya. “Give me your sword,” the other said; beckoning with his hand. “I’ll handle it. You’ve done enough.” 

It was tempting, so tempting because Genya was strong. Zenitsu knew that. Genya knew that, so Genya would be better, do better and Zenitsu could just hide like the fearful coward he was but his mind screeched to a halt at-

Shocked Genya. Sliced in half Genya. Genya who almost died.  

He couldn’t do that to him again. Couldn’t let him die because he, Zenitsu was incompetent. Couldn’t risk anyone else's life because he wasn’t good enough. 

“No,” he said. “I can’t do that.” 

“What the hell Zenitsu. Just hand it over damn it.” 

He swallowed but clutched his sword even tighter; Genya’s blood dripping from his fingertips and down the metal of the blade. 

“You’re still healing and your stomach is still bleeding. I don’t know how you do your immortal thing,” he said. “But it’s obvious you’re not invincible and I won’t let you risk your life for me.” 

“I’m not-” 

And then they were upon them. Trampling feet came into view from the cave entrance and demons of all sizes and strengths descended on them like a hoard. At that point Genya most have thrown himself across the floor because there was no way he’d had the energy to just pop up in front of Zenitsu like a dumb shield and- “Get back,” Zenitsu shouted, trying to push the other away, but Genya wasn’t budging.  

“No you get back,” he hissed. “I can do this.” 

“I can do this too,” Zenitsu said; circling one arm around the other’s waist and trying but failing to make him move. 

When the demons came, one sword and one broke sword was pointed in their direction and two boys were practically clinging onto each other as they hissed back and forth. 

They could have died, they should have died then and there, but once again a glimmer of luck was on their side as a shadow darkened the moon for a fleeting second; descended from the sky with the force of thousand men and an axe came down on the monsters bellow, like a vengeful judgment from above. 

 “Breath of Stone First Form: Serpentinite Bipolar”  

Chapter Text

Flecks of warm liquid splatters across his uniform and Himejima swings his blade one more time to get rid of the few remaining demons who’d tried to scatter at his arrival. Landing on top of the last one he makes sure to kick his head in, effectively knocking him out.  

Standing in the midst of his work; blood and death dripping from the heavens, it makes him weep with sorrow. The demons; they may have been an abomination on this earth, an eradication might have been the only solution for such plague but still... he wished them safety and happiness in their next life. 

Pressing his palms together he prayed.‘ May you not face the horrors of this life in the next one, creatures of the night. Rest in peace.’    

“Himejima-san?” 

A hesitant sound, weak, concerned and so awfully young.  

Turning around until the presence of his ward expended to meet him the stone pillar let his mouth quirk up slightly. “Genya,” he said and the child most have noticed the lack of reproach in his words for the nervousness drumming through him with jittering energy subsided.  

“You found me,” there was a sense of disbelief and awe in the kid’s voice and it only made Gyomei’s smile a bit wider, a bit more genuine.  

Stepping off the demon and fastening his weapon by his side he took his first step in the direction of the boys. The unfamiliar one; Obanai’s boy, let out a squeak and backed away from him immediately, but Genya mimicked his own action. Coming closer albeit hesitantly so.  

But then he stumbled; exhaustion, fear and worry screaming from his frame and Himejima’s arm was circling around his waist long before he’d even so much as tilted forward. “Here,” he said; carefully cradling the young one against his chest, one hand coming up to pat his hair down. “I’m here now.” Gently he led the kid to the nearest wall and slowly helped him sit down; all the while mindful of his condition. “You had me worried.” 

Genya stuttered and fumbled around for the correct words to say and Himejima smiled. Genya could be quite endearing when he momentarily forgot the weight of responsibility resting on his shoulders. 

Grabbing his own haori of his back Gyomei spread it out first before throwing it over the kid’s shoulders. He silenced Genya’s protests immediately by raising a finger and when his ward arguments died down, he sighed softly before he reached out almost automatically and cradled the back of the kid’s neck. A familiar motion that made Genya’s muscles untense and his frame relax almost instantly.  

Himejima with that, finds he too letting the tension drain out of his system and his worry slowly slipping away. Leaning forward he presses his forehead against the damp one in front of him and sighs. “Be careful next time.” 

He hears a gulp and whisper of agreement before he’s up again searching for the other child. The kid is standing a couple of feet away from where Himejima last remembered him to be and the pillar can’t exactly see him but the unease practically oozing from his direction makes the older man’s heart sadden. Children in war. It would never become any less horrifying.  

Making his way over the kid; closing the gap between them faster than Obanai’s boy could draw further away, he raises his arm. The child flinches but Himejima doesn’t let that trouble him as his hand comes down to calmly lie on top of the kid’s head. “You did good,” he says; careful to keep his voice as even as possible. “And you looked out for each other. Well done.” 

‘It is distressing,’ he observes as the child unconsciously leans into his touch as if soaking in the  kindness  he so sparingly gets.‘How war makes soldiers of us all.’  

Himejima keeps his hand flattened against the strands of soft hair for as long as possible before finally; after his ears catch a pitiful whine coming from his ward’s direction, he ruffles the child’s hair for a quick second longer before letting his arm drop.  

“Take this,” he says; swinging his own traveling bag of his shoulders and puts it at the kid's feet. “Find something we can start a fire with and something to eat. I need to handle the demon outside.” 

The kid squeaks and shuffles around in place and it takes a second for Himejima to understand he is probably nodding frantically at him so with another light smile and a pat on the head he twists around to the entrance of the cave again and walks out to meet the last demon who was now slowly getting back to his feet. 

“Curse you human!” the demon hisses; body rippling with sounds that paints a vivid image of his figure in Himejima’s mind. “I shall k-,” a screech of pain replaces his last syllabus as the stone pillar doesn’t hesitate a second to let his axe swing and cleave through two of the demon’s arms. 

Another sharp turn of his figure and a twist of his wrist just so, let’s his axe fly once again but this time he hits the demon on the face with its blunt end, effectively knocking him out. 

Kneeling down he collects the two severed arms and turns around to the mouth of the cave. From the sound echoing across the walls he can distinctly make out the erratic breaths of his disciple, so he stalks towards him and drops down to his knees again; presenting both limps to Genya. “Eat up,” he says, well aware of how much the kid does not want to do that. 

And sure enough, “I’m fine,” Genya says. “I’ve recovered already. I don’t need it.” But his breathing is uneven and his physical structure is shaking and Himejima knows this is unfair, knows the child deserves a better, kinder faith, but he hasn’t had that luxury and Gyomei can’t afford him the kindness to pretend that he has, so he leans forward and with his less bloodied hand, softly taps him across the chin. 

“I didn’t ask Genya.” 

“But-” 

“Genya.” He’s firmer this time. Unmoving, unapologetic. He can’t see the kid’s face, but it is as if he can feel, sense the moment his face drops and his form slumps. Still, he won’t be the one to relent in their battle of morals and survival. If it came down to the flesh of the enemy or the life of Genya, he would always choose the latter, may his soul find salvation from his decree. 

Taking this particular child under his wing had been – he shouldn’t have, this was Sanemi’s brother and... he could die any day, lose himself to the vile mind of Muzan or simply break. Himejima should have insisted he never take up the sword, especially since he lacked the talent to... but- 

A trembling hand extends to snatch the motionless arms from his grip and... 

How could he ever turn him away when Genya was so adamant, so ambitious, so reckless that it put fear in Gyomei’s bones knowing that maybe without him, this child full of hope and dreams would perish in the night; crushed by his goal of getting stronger while his brother is none the wiser of his faith.  

“If I were you I wouldn’t look Zenitsu,” his ward says then; calling out to his new friend while also breaking the stone pillar out of his momentary rumination. “It’s going to be ugly.” 

“What do you mean,” Obanai’s kid says; a kind of astonished lilt to his voice as he abandons the job he gave him to come running over. Himejima only stretches his arm out to stop the child’s progress and shakes his head slightly. 

“In order to heal properly, Genya must consume demon meat. He does not wish for you to witness this act, please fall back.” 

“He does what!” The level of surprise and sheer disgust in the child’s voice does nothing to lessen the clear shame seeping through every pore of Genya’s skin and the stone pillar finds himself sighing again. 

“It doesn’t work for others, but this is a special skill your friend possesses, now if you could please back away Agatsuma-” 

“How do you know my name!” 

Himejima is just about to answer when-” 

“Does it matter,” Genya explodes. “Now fucking get lost or I’m going to fucking kill you!” 

“Genya,” Himejima admonishes, but however his ward chose to phrase his desperation, it clearly does work on the kid, for Agatsuma clamps up immediately and shuffles back towards his preassigned work. Something in Genya’s voice having rattled him. 

With a tired sigh, his student brings one of the limbs close to his mouth and with a brief hesitation; digs in with a sharp tug of his teeth, taking three consecutive bites he chews noisily and swallows before finally shoving both arms away. “I think I’ve had enough. I’m good now.” His words sound shaken up, humiliated, ashamed.  

The stone pillar simply nods.  

“Very well.” 

He stands up again and when he walks out of the cave this time, it’s for the last time that night. Swinging his arm, he drives the spiked flail through the demon’s head, effectively ending his life. He stands there for a while after; palms flat against one another, prayer beads caught in between as he offers the monsters of the night one final prayer from his lips to their souls and then he walks back in. 

It doesn’t take them long to settle around the flame created by Agatsuma, now that Genya can fully move on his own, so they settle down into a quite silence as they eat the dinner they have for that night. Himejima always made sure to pack as much nutritious food as possible so there was plenty of food to go around that night and by the time both boys were on their second serving, the mood had lightened up significantly and cheerful chatter from the boys sitting across from him began to fill Himejima’s ears. 

“Hey, hey,” Genya finally said; breaking up his current bickering with Obanai’s boy to shift his attention towards him. “Zenitsu has the same hearing ability as you do Himejima-san! Isn’t that interesting?” 

The stone pillar blinks in surprise. That was... Tilting his head in the other child’s direction he listens carefully, and yes, that was undoubtedly – how hadn’t he noticed it before.  

A soft exhale and a jittering noise escapes Agatsuma as he too leans closer in on him. “Really?” he asks; excitement slowly crawling into his voice. “You have the same hearing ability as I do!” 

Gyomei nods. 

“I’ve never ever met anyone like me!”  

The sheer enthusiasm the kid exhibits puts a smile on Gyomei’s lips.  

“Slow down Agatsuma, we’re not exactly alike. It seems like your ability,” he begins, listening closer; repositions himself so his senses are fully directed towards the kid. “Your ability seems to be much more refined then mine. I rely a lot more on my senses of the surroundings rather than ears alone.” 

“Oh,” Agatsuma says. “Oh, cool.” 

Himejima smiles again at this; a soft tiny tilt of the corners of his mouth because he never much liked disappointment in the voices of those full of life. “I do believe your skill is rather amazing however. Truly one of a kind.” And there it is... the brightness. 

“You really think so! Thank you! Obanai-senpai never says thinks like that to me and it’s so cool to finally meet another pillar and-” 

If he could see, Himejima was sure the light of this boy’s innocence would blind him once more. 

“We get it idiot,” Genya inevitably interrupts the kid’s babbling as he always does. “Can you shut up now!” 

“You know what, I’ve had it up to here with-” 

“Well I don’t care!” 

“Why you-” 

A long sigh from the stone pillar clams them both up. “Can we not,” he says; vaguely looking in both their directions. “We’re eating right now. Please behave yourselves.” 

“Sorry Himejima-san,” Genya says; sounding rightfully reproached and Agatsuma quickly echoes the sentiment.  

Gyomei nodded in acceptance. “Now, anything else you rather talk about?” 

“Yeah,” Agatsuma piped up and a scoff from Genya makes the stone pillar frown down at him before beckoning Obanai’s boy to continue. 

“Uh,” the kid starts; for the first time hesitant about what he was about to say. “We were talking before.. before the demon attack happened, remember?” 

A question clearly directed at Genya, because his ward took another big bite of his sandwich, chewed loudly before swallowing and only then answered with a gruff “Yeah, what of it?” 

“Well,” Agatsuma says. “I was just curious why you got so mad when I asked you about your breath style. Haven’t you fully mastered it yet, because that’s nothing to be ashamed off because I haven’t either and-” 

“Drop it.” 

A lesser man might have winced at the deliberate cold reply, but Himejima knew all too well where that resentment and hatred came from. Sadly, the kid did not. 

“Why? You keep cutting me off and I don’t understand! Are you that embarrassed about your breath?” 

“I said drop it Agatsuma.” Genya had stopped eaten by now; plucking at his sandwich instead and throwing the teared apart pieces into the flame. “I don’t want to talk about it.” 

“But why not?” 

“Why the hell should I,” Genya hissed, and Himejima should break this up before it- 

“Because having the breath is so cool and I don’t get why you won’t just tell me!” 

“Because I don’t have it you idiot!” Genya finally exploded; throwing his remaining leftovers in the other’s face. “I don’t fucking have the breath of anything ok! I’m not a breath style user, I’m not like my fucking brother and I’m never going to be so why don’t you fucking mind your own business Zenitsu!” 

By the end of his rant Genya was heaving; chest moving up and down with each gasping exhale. “Just back off! Just stop....Zenitsu.” His voice broke at the top and Himejima fists clenched.  

How in the world was this fair? 

A suffocating silence fell between them, pressing down into the new cracks formed and splitting open the old once. Insecurity and fear bubbling to the surface to finally bleed over, but then- 

“I don’t understand,” Agatsuma said again; tone filled with wonder and confusion. “Why would you say that when it isn’t true. I know you’re a breath style user. I can hear it.” 

Chapter Text

Everything stilled. It was as if Genya’s lungs got caught in mid motion because he let out a tiny keening sound that gurgled up from his throat. Himejima chose to say nothing. Just waited and listened. 

Finally the suffocating silence was broken by his ward. 

“What do you mean hear it?” he asked; voice nothing short of a whisper. Obanai’s boy swallowed thickly, almost as if afraid to trudge into this new land he’d discovered by accident – a bit too late. 

“Well,” he spoke slowly, a growl from Genya making him hurry it up. “I can hear the difference between anything in the world,” he said; making a noise of someone shifting in place. “The sound a demon makes for example is different from that of a human and same goes for animals!” Here he paused, before tentatively venturing into the topic hanging over their heads. “And same goes for you, a breath style user. You sound like one because you sound like Obanai-senpai and me and Himejima-san and senpai and-” 

“Stop.” 

“But-” 

“I said stop,” Genya said, he sounded a lot more stable to Himejima’s ears now. “If I was a breath style user, I would have known.” 

“That’s not true,” Zenitsu protest almost immediately. “I didn’t discover I was one until way later and I had gramps telling me I was one the whole time, even when I didn’t show a glimpse of ability. 

Genya’s breath caught and Himejima sensed the child drawing closer to him. Did he wish for him to interfere on his behalf? But before he could do anything, again, his student took the conversation into his own hands and painfully delved into what he’d refused to talk about ever since- 

“Look Zenitsu,” he said; voice catching, but only slightly. “Himejima-san has almost as good of a hearing as you do right? So if he can’t hear anything, not that that makes any sense to begin with... don’t you think you might be getting this wrong?” 

A pause. 

And then more rustling coming from the direction of the two.  

‘Nervousness,’ Himejima noted, before Obanai’s boy spoke up again. “I don’t know why Himejima-san can’t hear it Genya. I don’t have any answers for that, but I wouldn’t lie to you. I have no reason to, just-” 

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” Genya said, again scooting closer to him, almost as if he was unconsciously seeking out his support. “I’ve come to peace with everything and I don’t need you to just mess it all up so stop talking.”  

“Genya-” 

“I said stop!” 

“You know I can’t! Why won’t you listen to me? Are you that much of a coward?” 

“How dare you! Last time I checked you were the sniveling idiot who couldn’t even take care of his own ear!” 

Both their voices had risen up by several octaves by then and Gyomei knew, even if he wanted to know more about these innate abilities Agatsuma was speaking of, that it wasn’t the time nor the place for Genya to properly compute any of this, so with a heavy heart he raised a hand and listened as their heated words slowly died down. 

“Enough,” he said; resting both hands atop of his lap. “In heated situations such as these, taking one step back and reevaluating once stance is better for all parties involved. Agatsuma,” he said looking in the direction of the child. “Give Genya the time he needs to think through this new information you have given him and you Genya,” he said now looking at his ward. “Do not lose your temper when the same sentiment can be expressed with a calmer heart. Now please eat. Both of you.” 

Back to the quiet comfort of peace they went and Himejima was almost done with his own meal when Genya spoke up again once more. 

“You never told me what you’re doing here in this forest either Zenitsu,” the words came out almost too casual to mean anything but the stone pillar knew his ward well enough to know something more than good intentions were driving this conversation. “I mean,” his ward continued. “a coward like you surely didn’t come here willingly now did you?” 

And there it was. 

“Genya,” Himejima said; a warning clear in his tone. “Do not insult the child.” 

Genya snorted and Agatsuma’s heckles apparently rose in indignation at his defense for he suddenly turned on him and snapped. “I’m not a child! And as for your information,” he continued rounding on Genya. “I’m not a coward either!” 

“Could have fooled me,” Genya muttered, and once again an argument broke losr. 

Eventually Agatsuma; who’d almost stalked out of the cave in fury calmed down enough to tell them his reason for why he was here in this forest. Of course that only happened after a grumbled out apology from Genya along with a peace offering of actually listening to what he had to say about the breath style theory later on. 

The entire argument while exhausting to have had to deal with also mildly amused Himejima. It was quiet evident that his ward was already very fond of Obanai’s boy from the way he quickly tried to scramble off after him when he’d seen he’d gone too far with his teasing and it looked like said attachment was indeed mutual for Agatsuma was all too quick to relent after hearing the apology, so the pointless spat ultimately only led them back to where they originally started.  

‘Children,’ Himejima thought; heart warming ever so slightly.‘Hopeless so very hopeless.’  

“So the snake pillar just left you here, by yourself?” The disbelief was very evident in Genya when their conversation resumed. “I mean I get it if it was me, but you?” 

Agatsuma sounded insulted when he answered, but there was still a level of defensiveness that bled into his voice when he spoke. “Obanai-senpai only did it so that I could master my skills. What we were doing before wasn’t working so-” 

“But he only gave you a week to get to the village? Aren’t you kinda running late?” 

The minute those words left Genya’s mouth it was as if any lighthearted mood wafting in the air around them suddenly drained out of the air. “Yeah,” Agatsuma said. “Yeah, I kinda am.” 

“I’m sorry Zenitsu.” 

“It’s ok,” the kid said; he sounded unsure and wary but there was also an edge of steel behind his tone. “I’ve already thought about it and I don’t think I’ll be able to keep my promise to Obanai-senpai, but that doesn’t mean I won’t meet up with him again.” With each word his voice grew stronger and stronger and maybe Gyomei finally understand what Obanai might have seen in this kid. “I’ll get stronger on my own,” the kid continued. “And when I’m strong enough I’ll find him again. We won’t be separated forever so it’s ok... It’s ok if we can’t meet up like we planned. Obanai-senpai will do what he has to and I’ll find him when I’m strong enough. I know I will.” 

Genya shifted in place and finally the unruly jittering energy that had been fluttering around him all day came to a halt. “That’s strangely mature for a crybaby,” he said; humour dancing within his tone. “Good for you.” 

Agatsuma snapped something crude back at him but before another tiring argument could break out, Genya raised his voice over his new friend. “Himejima-san believes you can do it so do your best.” 

And... 

Gyomei had to clamp his mouth shut to stop himself from laughing out loud. Genya’s round about praise was too obvious for anyone to fall for but of course Agatsuma did, and as the child thanked him, Gyomei profusely for believing in him, all Himejima could do was shake his head in fondness and pat the child gently on the head. 

He was happy. 

He was happy that Genya made a friend, someone he could banter with, have a laugh with, someone who could make him act his age.  

That was good. That was really good. 

The stone pillar wished Sanemi could have seen the exceptional young man his brother had become. 

And speaking of which.  

“Genya,” he spoke up; interrupting Agatsuma’s current panicked frenzy of realizing he’d just abandoned his bag outside. 

“Where did you leave it? Paraphs I can get it for you,” he finally said when he understood that Agatsuma would not calm down unless this situation was handled. 

“I left it in the battlefield,” the kid said; sounding both sad and resigned. “It’s probably gone by now.” 

And it probably was. Still, Himejima was willing to offer to go look for it all the same, but Agatsuma muttered a soft rejection. “It’s ok Himejima-san,” he said. “I’ll figure something else out.” 

“I always keep my stuff well hidden,” Genya butted in then, but before Agatsuma could again snap at him he carried on with a carefree attitude. “I can share my things with you if you want. Especially since you’re probably going to travel with us for a while.” 

Obanai’s boy immediately lit up at those words so much so that even a blind man could see the happiness radiating from the child.  

“Thanks Genya,” he said; a smile in his voice, but that soon enough was swept away. “I left most of my important stuff with Obanai-senpai but... I had this photo – I... thanks anyways.” 

“Yeah,” Genya said a bit more subdued this time. “Sure, anytime.” 

Gyomei took that moment to stir their attention away from their current conversation to the one he needed to have with his student. “Genya,” he said again, capturing the kid’s attention.  

“Yes Himejima-san,” Genya said; sounding as if he was waiting for another scolding. Gyomei just shook his head at the assumption.  

“You have not been in contact with Sanemi recently.” Gyomei didn’t need eyes to notice how his ward suddenly curled in on himself. 

“I haven’t been in contact with my brother for a really long time,” he eventually settled on saying when the silence stretched on for too long. 

“That’s not what I meant.” 

“I know.” 

It was obvious Genya didn’t want to talk about this. He hadn’t wished to talk about it every time Gyomei had brought it up and the kid was even less likely to open up in the presence of someone else, but the stone pillar wouldn’t have an opportunity like this ever again. Genya couldn’t run away from him like he did the last time he’d wished to ask him this question and of course Gyomei knew this whole situation was all too painful for his ward, but- 

Sanemi.... 

He still had the report ingrained in his mind. Sanemi had been severely injured in battle for the third time in three months. He wasn’t focusing like he used to, he was distracted, occupied, and that could be dangerous. A split-second loss of attention could have grave consequences and Himejima could easily deduce why this was happening to Sanemi. 

“You’re not writing to him anymore, why is that?” 

Himejima couldn’t let this one go. 

“Why does it matter,” Genya huffed. “I’m sorry Himejima-san but this is between me and my brother and I don’t understand why you even care.” 

“I care because you care,” Himejima said, a soft smile grazing his lips. “Now tell me what’s wrong.” 

Agatsuma most have realized the heaviness of the topic for he suddenly stood up and excused himself to the very back of the cave. Trying to give them a semblance of privacy. Genya seemed to relax at the gesture and when his spoke, his tone sounded a lot less strained. 

“He doesn’t read them Himejima-san,” he said, flicking a bit of gravel into the fire. “I know he doesn’t, so what’s the point.” 

What was the point indeed? 

The stone pillar frowned and with a sigh, closed the last bit of distance between them till their shoulders were pressed together. Genya sunk into his side without a second thought. 

“I can’t say he reads them,” Himejima said slowly. “But I’m sure just having your letters, knowing that you’re thinking of him makes all the difference.” 

His ward scoffed and when he spoke next there was a certain watery tone to his voice Gyomei did not dare comment on. “He hates me,” he said. “And I get why. I understand and he has every right... I just – I just wish he would... if I could only show him! That... maybe if he knew I wasn’t as weak... I... I don’t want to bother him anymore... Himejima-san. I owe him that much.” 

Himejima didn’t say anything for a while. Just draped an arm over the kid’s shoulder and let him find comfort in whatever warmth he could provide. After minutes of just holding Genya close, he squeezed his shoulder one last time and let go. “I can’t assume to understand your relationship with your brother,” he said, choosing not to look at the kid. “But I know for fact that you not writing him is making him reckless and puts his life in danger. I’m not asking you to do something you’re not comfortable with Genya, but know this.” he paused. “Just knowing that you’re alive, even if he doesn’t read anything you say... the simple fact that you’re still breathing in this world, that might be enough to keep him from diving over the edge.” 

“I’m not sure I believe you,” Genya said, after mulling over his words for what felt like forever. “But I’ll write to him when I get time. I don’t want him to get hurt if that’s what’s happening.” 

Himejima nodded. “That’s all I ask for.” 

Things quieted down much after that. Both kids settling down to sleep as Gyomei had volunteered or rather insisted on taking the night watch and soon enough after an hour long argument; mainly from Genya about what turned out to be Kyojuro’s card game and how confusing and utterly ridiculous it was; while still insisting on playing it, the kids fell silent and soon enough drifted off into restless sleep.  

Gyomei waited until the twisting and turning and the muttering had calmed down and until both boys were almost curled around each other before he bent his knees and pushed himself back on his feet. 

The night air was wafting with cold prickling of an oncoming winter against his skin and Himejima found himself breathing in deeply and just standing there for a blissful couple of seconds before he carefully made his way across the forest floor and came to a stop in front of a giant celtis tree by the way side. Leaning against it he once again allowed himself to relax; knowing that the kids were only hearing distance away. 

“I suppose you expected me to save them Obanai,” he said, voice low as not to wake the ever keen lister that was Agatsuma. “How certain were you that I was going to make it.” 

The snake pillar who’d been sitting in this very tree for hours as far as Himejima knew, let out a tiny huff of air before swinging himself around the branch so his legs were dangling next to Himejima’s shoulders. “Don’t play coy with me Himejima,” he said. “I have utmost faith in your abilities, always.” 

Gyomei smiled. “Did you know Genya could heal from that slash.” A certain edge bled through his voice and he was certain Obanai had heard. “Did you know he wouldn’t die?”  

His fellow pillar didn’t hesitate with his answer. “No,” he said. “But I wasn’t there at that time. Oyakata-sama sent me a message and since I knew you were around I left you to it.” A pause. “Did you know about it?” 

Gyomei nodded.  

“Does Sanemi?” 

“No.” 

The snake pillar hummed.  

“Agatsuma believes you are already in the village waiting for him.” Himejima said, the lull in conversation making him tilt his head towards his comrade. “He didn’t believe he had any hope of catching up to you.” 

“He saved someone,” Obanai said eventually, after taking a second to mull it over. “I think that proves he is capable of being a demon slayer one day.” 

“Is that so?” 

“It is.” 

“Obanai.” 

The snake pillar shifted again; a slithering sound coming from the snake around his shoulders. “Yes?” 

Gyomei frowned lightly. “That village you’re planning to visit... Yui-sama lives there. Is there something wrong with Agatsuma?” 

A heavy sigh came from the man sitting on the tree branch. “He’s having constant nightmares that he doesn’t seem to remember whenever he wakes up and his abilities only seem to work when he’s unconscious. I think Yui-sama can set his mind free.” 

“Is that so wise?” 

A scoff. “It’s the best option his got. Muzan’s demons will continue to come after him so I need to find a way to pull him ahead. Yui-sama dabbles in the mind. She can help.” 

The stone pillar took a careful moment to ponder this idea before finally shaking his head. “There has to be a better way Obanai,” he said, light concern coloring his tone.  

“There is no other way,” Iguri said, sounding just a bit more frustrated than he’d ever allow himself to be. “Oyakata-sama told me that Mi... Kanroji has discovered the last location Kuwajima-san was and it has been burned to the ground, most likely by Muzan which means he is ahead of us, so there are larger forces at play here Himejima-san. I can’t afford to let the brat take his time learning.” 

“You could leave him with us,” Gyomei said then, words gentle yet curious. “You are burning candles at both end my friend and allowing Agatsuma to stay with us for a while could significantly unburden your time.” 

As the last words left his mouth a hissing sound so fierce pierced the air that it almost startled both pillars. When the surprise faded from his face, Himejima let out a light chuckle before reaching out and patting the snake gently on the head. “I apologize Kaburamaru,” he said. “I did not mean to offend.” 

That drew a snort of amusement out of the snake pillar and Himejima smiled in turn. “It’s a no then,” he said, fully aware of the answer. 

“I promised that I wouldn’t leave him,” Obanai said; lifting a giant bag of his shoulder and hanging it from the branch next to him. “I won’t break that promise now.” 

“Very well,” Gyomei said and like that they waited out the night. 

Chapter Text

Genya’s consciousness gradually slipped back into the corners of his mind as he stretched out his muscles; feeling the satisfying pop smooth out the ache between his joints.

He let out a giant yawn and drowsily blinked till his vision adjusted. 

Smacking his lips, dry throat making him momentarily frown, the young teen pushed himself into an upright position and let his eyes wander across the cave. The fogginess of sleep still lingering over him.  

With the exception of Himejima being gone everything was as they’d left it the night before. Briefly Genya let a sliver of concern pass through him, wondering if his teacher had allowed himself a moment of rest, but he was quick to brush the worry aside. Himejima-san was fully aware of his limitations and could take care of himself just fine. 

‘Unlike aniki,’  his traitorous mind whispered from the darkness of his subconsciousness and Genya brutally shoved the thought away before it could take root.  

Sanemi was fine. He didn’t need him. He never has. He was fine. 

Rubbing at his eyes with a little more force than strictly necessarily, the teen swept a couple of fingers through his hair and tried to fully drag himself back into the land of the living. 

The abrupt shift in the soft snores of the boy next to him made him instantly halt his movements however. Breathing cautiously through his nose, Genya watched Zenitsu carefully. Not moving a finger till the jittering ticks swimming across the blonde’s face slowly died down. 

When he was sure Zenitsu wasn’t about to wake up anytime soon, he extracted himself gently from where they’d both been curled up next to each other pressed against the damp cave wall and flipped Himajima’s haori off his waist and draped it over Zenitsu. 

He gave himself another second of just sitting there silently debating with himself whether or not to... And with a sigh, Genya took off his own haori, bunched it up and then carefully; air held in suspense between his lungs, shoved the folded-up cloth under Zenitsu’s left ear.  

‘It wouldn’t do for the other to fall asleep on top of his already injured ear’, he reasoned and when he was satisfied that the blonde wouldn’t hurt himself any further with his careless movements, he finally fully extracted himself from their make shift sleeping quarters and shuffled over to the dimming embers of their flame. 

Getting the fire started again wasn’t an issue and Genya thanked Himejima-san silently as he started preparing their meal while hunger gnawed at his inside, begging for sustenance.  

He’s just about to dig into his dry; slightly overcooked meat, when a low keening noise reaches his ears and makes him pause. 

The sound had risen up high, almost bottomless from where it came and there was such a cutting-edge suffering underlying its notes that Genya found himself whipping his head in it's direction, when it once again pierced the air, this time low and guttering. The previous shock draining from his figure, Genya scanned Zenitsu up and down; for the noise couldn’t have come from anyone else but him, and there..... 

Zenitsu jerked forward into a tight ball, brow glistening with a thin sheen of sweat, face pulled into a grimace as if expecting a blow to his person and teeth shattering from cold that couldn’t be present outside of the blonde’s own nightmares.  

Genya’s mouth pulled down in concern. Should he... 

Another whine breaks through his musing and Genya draws up his shoulders in silent resolve and scoots over until he’s hovering over the other.  

Breakfast all but forgotten.  

“Hey,” he mutters, words tilted low as not to shock wakefulness onto someone not prepared to distinguish between reality and nightmare just yet. “Zenitsu, hey. You’re dreaming man, you need to...” 

He doesn't even reach the end of his sentence before, without warning, a momentary stunning light blazes like fire across Zenitsu’s body and it’s all Genya can do to duck out of the way just in time to avoid a flash of lightning striking down right where he’d sat. With a bang it scorched the ground.... and it only went downhill from there.  

White flairs of lightening dance across Zenitsu’s figure, and Genya can only clamp a hand over his eyes and curl away into the corner of the cave far away from the blitzing light show, because, what the actual hell! 

“Zenitsu,” he cries; shielding his face as best as he can. “Zenitsu, wake up!” 

But Zenitsu doesn’t hear him. Isn’t aware of him. Isn't able to notice him in the state he's in.

Instead, the blonde starts wailing, screaming, screeching at the top of his lungs. Rage and sorrow painting his voice red. 

It sounds horrid. 

“No!”

Zenitsu’s voice crashes through the burning sizzling of the electricity surrounding him. “Let him go! Let him go! Gramps! No! I will kill you! I will kill you! Senpai!!” 

Throwing himself to the side, Genya tucks himself into a roll and flattens himself across the floor; barely avoiding another strike. “Zenitsu,” he roars. “Damn it Zenitsu, what the hell is wrong with you? Wake up!” 

But he doesn’t. 

He doesn’t wake up.

“Traitor!” Zenitsu continues to scream; body convulsing where he lay. “Traitor! Gramps, no! Senpai! I will kill you! Traitor! Traitor! Traitor!” 

Genya doesn't know why he does what he does next.  

Maybe it’s because he hates the sound Zenitsu is currently making. 

Maybe he was scared of what would happen to them both if the lightning strikes weren’t stopped. 

Maybe.... maybe he’d just made his first friend and he wasn’t prepared to lose him just yet. 

Either way, Genya shuts his eyes tight, grits his teeth, steels himself and then with a silent prayer familiar to his tongue as the flesh of the abominations he feasts upon, Genya rushes through the shockwaves and throws himself, full-bodied, on top of his raging friend.  

Biting clean through his bottom lip, muffling his own painful screams with the blood bubbling down his chin, he slipped both arms around Zenitsu’s frame and holds on. Clinging with all his might, trying to restrain the flailing limbs. 

Pressing his cheek against the other’s chest, Genya refused to move. “Stop,” he hissed; the lightening thankfully only shocking him slightly now that he was this close. “Stop Zenitsu, please.” 

It takes what feels like hours but in truth was likely no longer than five minutes before Zenitsu’s trashing slows down bit by bit, and with it the lightening fizzles and dies out.  

A final puff of air from Zenitsu signals the end of it and frigile quiet descents on the twitching form of the blond.  

Genya lays there; as his friend’s body comes to a complete stop, his own starting to shake the minute it does, and he presses his eyes shut and breaths. 

It was over. 

Whatever this was, whatever it was.... 

When he eventually manages to uncurl from around Zenitsu, he has thankfully stopped trembling and with a quick check to make sure Agatsuma hasn’t hurt himself too severely, Genya backs away from the sleeping form with haste that if witnessed by anyone else would embarrass him to the roots of his hair. 

But... 

What had that been? 

What had he witnessed? 

Unclenching his fists and slowly spreading out his fingers until his hands were in full view of his eyes, Genya winced. The zapped burn marks across his skin were slowly knitting themselves back together, but the phantom pain he’d experienced moments ago still lingered with a pang of certainty across his ribs. 

Suddenly he felt thankful that the demon slaying uniform didn’t lend itself to such weaknesses as to let a bit of electricity tear through it. He would hate for Himejima-san's haori to get destroyed under his watch. 

Thankfully Zenitsu had mostly calmed down at this point. His soft snores coming out in gentle ripples where he lay and Genya found his shoulders slumping down in relief.  

Good, good, everything was good for now. Zenitsu was fine, he was fine, everything was fine.

Taking a deep breath, he allowed himself to just sit there for a second. Gathering what remained of his nerves as he silently observed the sleeping figure. 

Crawling over eventually, he reached across the sleeping boy’s shoulder and dragged the discarded haori of Himejima over his body before carefully adjusting his own back under Zenitsu’s ear. 

After he was satisfied with a job well done, Genya moved back over to the fire and set himself down. Heavy frown now marring the top of his face, while quiet relief shadowed the taut lines of his mouth. 

Zenitsu didn’t wake up until Genya had finished eating. By the time the blonde started moving again, soft muffled muttering and incoherent babbling filling the air, Genya had managed to put the whole ordeal behind him, shoving it into a tiny locked box in the back of his mind to be addressed on a later date.  

“Morning,” Zenitsu said; pushing himself into a sitting position and yawning loudly while squinting at him from across the cave. 

Genya answered with a nod. 

It takes Zenitsu a moment to gather himself, but after he somewhat gains his bearings back, he shuffles over; taking his allocated spot across the fire from him and starts riffling through their current stash. Genya doesn’t interrupt him. In fact, he doesn’t say anything until the blonde is halfway through his makeshift breakfast. It’s just as Zenitsu is about to pick up these weird looking leaves that Genya finally puts aside the stick he’d been using to scrawl his sibling's initials on the ground and clears his throat. 

When Zenitsu looks up at him in question, Genya raises an eyebrow. “You weren’t sleeping well last night,” he says. “Did you have a nightmare?” 

Casual, unoffensive, normal.  

Genya mentally pats himself on the back. And then takes it all back thr next instant because all he’s met with is a look of pure and utter confusion. 

“No?” Zenitsu says; last letter dragged out as if the other teen was wondering if this was a trick question or something. “I slept great. Didn’t you?” 

‘Well,’  Genya thought. ‘That is... interesting.’  Because what he’d witnessed was anything but great. 

“I slept fine,” he says instead, quickly talking over Zenitsu’s follow up question to prevent any further discussion on the topic. “You said you wanted to talk about my potential ability to use the breath yesterday. Wanna do that now?” 

Chapter Text

Zenitsu’s eyes immediately lit up, previous conversation all but forgotten.‘He is so easy to manipulate,’ Genya mused and he wanted to feel smug about it, if only their current trajectory of discussion wasn’t the one he’d been dreading on having all night.  

“Oh yeah,” Zenitsu said; scooting over and barely sitting out of range of the dancing flames burning bright underneath him. “I actually thought about it before I slept yesterday, and I think I know what’s up with you! Not that I... I’m not,” his lips drew into a tight frown. “I think we’ll still have to ask a bunch of people... maybe? Or test it out or... Maybe – your ability to you know,” he waved his fingers around and Genya’s eyebrow twitched. “You know and the breath... I think that... well I’m not sure...” 

“Just spit it out already!” Genya snapped; annoyance all but bleeding out of his pores. “Slow down and tell me what you figured out. We can worry about everything else later. ” 

“Of course, yeah, of course,” Zenitsu said; eyes darting this way and that and teeth gnawing at his bottom lip in thought. “I think the reason why you haven’t been able to use your core breath thing is because of your other ability,” he said; voice soft and hesitant as he tried to explain himself.  

“What do you mean?”  

Genya really didn’t want to talk about this, but deep down, he knew that now that the conversation was already taking place, his curiosity wouldn’t let him just walk away from this no matter how much that could save him the potential heartache. “My core breath ability?” 

Zenitsu nodded; adopting a thoughtful look. “Yeah,” he said. “When we were in the forest, it was as if your breath was like singing you know,” he brought both his hands to his chest and then pulled them outward before pressing them back down again and doing the same motion over and over. “Like a heartbeat almost, but now. It’s like it is unsteady and quiet.” 

Genya frowned. “You said you could hear breath style users right?” Zenitsu nodded. “So do I sound like you?” 

The blonde hesitated before shaking his head. “No,” he said. “Well, maybe?” Frustration was drawing his at his brows and Genya could feel the same irritation echoing out of his own frame. “Everyone else sound more stable,” Zenitsu continued. “It’s like we all sound like the ocean but you sometimes sound like the ocean but other times you sound like the river or... or like a still ocean? Does that make sense?” Genya opened his mouth, but before he could voice his input, Zenitsu promptly cut him off. 

“No, no, that’s not it,” he muttered; finger tapping nervously against his chin.  

After a minute of just shifting in place and mumbling incoherently to himself, his head finally shot up and he stared intensely at Genya. At first Genya thought Zenitsu might have been glaring at him for some reason, but after a while of frowning back at the other, he noticed how the blonde’s eyes had almost glazed over from the way he was staring as if seeing something else, and he wondered briefly if maybe Zenitsu was listening for something, maybe he was listening for his breath style? 

Unconsciously he found himself nearly holding his breath; air puffing out of his lungs too shallowly to be normal, and after an agonizing moment of sitting there and trying not to disrupt whatever his friend was trying to do, Zenitsu suddenly blinked out of whatever he was doing; eyes turning back into focus and breath whooshing out in one loud exhale. Genya echoed the action without thinking. 

“Something is definitely different,” Zenitsu said, moving slightly away from the fire and cocking his head sideways. “I think after you num-nummed on that demon...” 

“Num-nummed? Really?”  

“Hey,” Zenitsu said, puffing out his cheeks. “You don’t wanna hear it and I don’t wanna say it so let’s just...” Waving his hand absentmindedly, he continued without letting Genya interrupt. “As I was saying,” he shot Genya a look, making the black-haired teen snort. “After you num-nummed on that demon, it was as if the breath ability sound that I heard coming from you even when you were,” he made a slashing motion around his waist. “kinda dead, suddenly became dull and faded.” Zenitsu looked confused and Genya...  

Genya felt as if the rug of life itself was snapped out from under him without warning, because of course... 

It made so much sense. 

Why Sanemi left... 

Why he couldn’t cut it as a demon slayer.... 

He wasn’t... he wasn’t a person? Was he? Every time he ate... every time, it reduced his chances of using the breath... made it dull... Zenitsu had said that the sound it became dull and... Oh 

He swallowed, eyes suddenly stinging with pain. The demon eating ability that had been keeping him alive had also prevented him from... he was a monster .... 

Wasn’t he? 

Why couldn’t he...  

Clutching at his chest, he gasped for breath. The stinging in his eyes intensifying. 

He couldn’t breath... he... Leaning forward he clawed at where his heart should be but... 

He was a monster. 

A demon. 

He.... 

“Hey, hey, hey,” a voice... a familiar voice... and he startled out of his thought; coming back to the sight of two fingers being snapped in front of his eyes. “You with me?” The concern in Zenitsu’s voice was almost tangible and Genya found himself desperately clinging to it with everything he had, because... Zenitsu, Himejima-san... how long until they too realize he was the monsters they fought at night. The kind of beasts that devoured their families without a second thought. How long until, like Sanemi; Sanemi who didn’t actually know the kind of abomination he was, but still had the foresight to reject him, how long until Zenitsu and Himejima-san also realized that he was better off dead then wandering around amongst the humans? 

How long? 

But then, as if fleeting like the warmth from his childhood, but so very solid... 

Two arms came to circle around his mid and in one flued motion, he was dragged forward until his face was pressed into Zenitsu’s shoulder. Hands tightened around him when he tried to move and with a light thud, Zenitsu’s cheek was resting against his hair. “I’m not going anywhere,” came a breathless voice from above him; the shakiness in Zenitsu’s voice almost vibrating through his entire being. “Me and Himejima-san aren’t going anywhere and you’re not a monster, you’re my friend.” 

What? 

Ho... “How?” he gasped; trying and failing to pull himself out of Zenitsu’s grip, and since when had Zenitsu been that strong? 

A light but strained chuckle. 

“Sorry,” the blonde said, and.... yeah... he sounded like he was crying. Genya’s stomach lurched and his eyes stung. “I could hear you thinking. I didn’t mean to but... it was... it was loud and – I'm sorry. But you’re not a monster Genya. You’re not. And I’m sorry that I made you feel that way.” 

And yeah.... 

That did it. 

Reaching out to clutch at the back of Zenitsu’s haori, Genya buried his face in the other’s neck and shook with the sobs of his tears.  

Gasping loudly, he curled up into the warmth of Zenitsu’s embrace and cried until he physically couldn’t cry anymore. It was as if all the pain, all the fear, all the worry and anger and bitterness all decided to spill out at once and flood his system to the point that he couldn’t imagine how he’d ever managed to keep this much pain locked up inside.  

Genya cried for the siblings he lost. He cried for Shuya and Hiroshi and Koto and Teiko and Sumi. He cried for his mom who worked so hard to provide for them despite the abuse and suffering she dealt with at the hands of their father. He cried for Sanemi.  

Beautiful, honest and kind Sanemi who lost his light that day because of what he had to do. He cried for the regret he felt for the unforgivable words he said and he cried for Himejima-san and the betrayal he’d experienced. 

He cried for Zenitsu and the family he also lost and he cried for everyone else who couldn’t live happy and honest lives because demons walked amongst them. But more importantly. For the first time, he cried for himself and for the horrors he’ll always have to live with. Genya cried; ugly sobs wrecking his body, and his friend held him close and told him that it was ok. It was ok to cry because he wasn’t alone.  

He cried, and for the first time in forever, he was as if the weight of the world was lifted of his shoulders. 

Eventually he calmed down enough for embarrassment to settle in his bones, and he found himself shoving the now ridiculously blubbering mess that was Zenitsu away and huffing that he was fine now, while tiredly rubbing at his eyes to expel the tears.  “I’m ok,” he said; voice muffled under his hands. ”I’m ok.” 

“Yeah?” The high key concern emitting from Zenitsu was almost annoying while also being strangely comforting. 

He nodded. 

“Do you,” Zenitsu started, after they’d both had time to calm down and Genya had managed to force down the sheer embarrassment he felt from breaking down in front of the other. “Do you want to continue... or?” 

Hesitation... 

Genya didn’t like hesitating or second guessing his own decisions, but... for the first time -- “I don’t know,” he said; looking down at his fingers that were still shaking. “I don’t know.” 

“I think we should.” 

His head shot up and he was met with Zenitsu’s resolute and steady gaze. “I think we should,” the blonde repeated. “Because I think you misunderstood what I was trying to say and I’m not ok with you believing those things without me having had the chance to tell you what I think.” 

“I...” 

Zenitsu shook his head vigorously. “You have to let me Genya. Please.” 

And Genya, he nodded. Because he was quickly learning that he for some reason had a hard time saying no to the idiot sitting in front of him.  

“Great!” Zenitsu said, smiling tentatively at him but eyes still looking more determined than Genya had ever seen them before. “I don’t think your other ability is necessarily killing your potential to be a demon slayer,” he started. “I just think it suppresses it sorta. Like you can’t have both at the same time, at least for the time being. It could become more permanent later.” 

Frowning softly, Zenitsu; who was now practically sitting next to him, continued. “Your breath ability is sounding much clearer now than it did yesterday right after you ate... you know... and even though it isn’t really powerful it’s stronger so I think the more you use your other ability the less you have the chance to figure out your breath style... does that make sense?” 

Genya was silent for a while, contemplating the theory. It made sense in a way. Because one side of his powers were demon related and his other side was the complete opposite it made sense that they cancelled each other out. From what Zenitsu was implying, he still had a chance to reverse it. Still could somehow figure out a breath style and focus on that, but to do it, he would have to give up..... 

Giving up immortality for a chance of regaining his humanity?  

But.... 

What if he didn’t... what if he wasn’t able to master a breath style, could he... could he take that chance? 

“Do you think,” he started slowly. “Do you think if I continue to use that other ability... that I will never be able to...?” 

Zenitsu paused before nodding slowly. “I think eventually, the ripples will stop and you won’t.... I think you’ll have to decide Genya. But... it’s just a thought and... I’m sorry.” 

“Yeah.... Me too.” 

“I can help!” 

Genya blinked in surprise. “What?” 

Zenitsu was practically vibrating in his spot now. “I haven’t mastered my breath style yet either, so since I’ll be sticking around you guys for a while, we could train together!” 

That... that didn’t sound like a bad idea... and Genya, despite how hard he tried not to contemplate it, found himself intrigued by the notion of figuring out this whole new entire thing and with Zenitsu there and Himejima-san, it wouldn’t be so lonely so... 

“Yeah,” he said. “That... I would like that.” 

He was met with a blinding smile and he found himself tentatively returning it.  

Yeah, maybe everything would be alright. Maybe with Zenitsu here with him, maybe... 

Maybe... together they would be ok. 

Chapter Text

Their conversation grows a lot more lighthearted after that. Zenitsu easily able to keep up pointless chatter as they both turn to clean up their meager belongings and prepare to move out. What should have been a destressing aftermath however, turned out to be anything but. 

Now that Genya’s own anxieties had been temporarily put to rest, suddenly the urgent matter early this morning keeps popping into his head. Zenitsu’s nightmare.... Should he tell him? Should he forget about it? As his friend, was it now Genya’s responsibility to keep him informed, or was he overstepping an unseen boundary? 

Maybe it wasn’t even a thing. Maybe he was overreacting. This could all be a fluke incident. Something that happened due to combinations of stress, life or death situation and a restless night of sleep. 

Or... or it could just be because of Zenitsu’s infected ear. Who could know? And speaking of the ear... 

“Hey Zenitsu,” he said; putting away Himejima-san's haori so he didn’t forget to give it to him when they found him. “Let me take a look at your ear before we leave.”  

‘Wouldn’t do to let it get any worst,’  he thought. And Genya already knew how to treat it, so might as well.... 

It should have been easy enough problem to solve, no issue at all really, but let it be known that if Zenitsu was ever involved in something, he could always make it more trouble than it was worth. 

“No,” his friend said, shuffling away from him; hand coming up to cover the left side of his head. “You already looked at it yesterday remember, and it doesn’t hurt as much anymore. I don’t think it’s necessary.” 

Slowly getting back up from where he’d been crouching down next to his bag, Genya’s face morphed into an unimpressed scowl. “Really man,” he said. “Do you even know how to manage an injury like that?” 

“I-” 

“That’s a no then.” 

Zenitsu glared and Genya returned the look with a steely one of his own. “I don’t want you to poke around in my ear Genya,” Zenitsu said; finally relenting and breaking away from their childish staring contest. “I’m fine ok. You don’t have to do all of that...” he waved his arms around. “stuff.” 

‘Well,’  Genya thought; leaning down to fish out the med kit from his bag.‘Too bad.’  

--------- 

“I can’t believe you,” Zenitsu huffed; annoyance burning in his eyes. “You’re unbelievable.” 

Tilting the blonde’s head down by force and taking a scissor to the bandages wrapped around his head, Genya tactfully elected to ignore him. Partially because Zenitsu was as always, being ridiculous, but also because currently, his mind was occupied by much more worrying concerns. 

He needed to figure out whether or not to tell Zenitsu what he’d witnessed. Sure from the outside looking in, the whole situation didn’t seem so dire, but what if he let it go and then it turned around to bite him in the ass later. Like what if Zenitsu hurt someone? Seriously hurt someone because he didn’t know he had night terrors that could electrocute people? 

Or what if he already knew, and Genya telling him would only remind him of terrible memories he’s been trying to forget. Zenitsu also lost his family, so who was Genya to.... 

“Hey...” 

He flinched back. Eyes snapping up from the task of checking the ear for any sign of infection, to meet the pooling worries of Zenitsu’s eyes. “Yes?” 

“Are you ok?” His friend asked, whatever annoyance he most have been feeling momentarily put aside. 

Genya scowled. He didn’t appreciate being pitied.  

“Can’t you just read my mind? Why do you even ask?” 

The hurt that flashed across Zenitsu’s face made Genya’s stomach twist into knots. The blonde quickly tried to smooth his emotions back into a mask of indifference, but he was bad at it. Terribly bad at it, and the rapid whirlwind of sadness dancing in his eyes made Genya want to take it all back, but before he could. 

“I didn’t mean... I wasn’t,” Zenitsu started; brows furrowing and mouth turning downward into sad pout. “I didn’t want to listen before it just... I...” 

Genya’s fingers were shooting out to curl around the other’s wrist before he could even think. Clasping Zenitsu arm tightly, he squeezed and let his lips curl upward into a hesitant smile. “Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to say that. It was uncalled for... sorry.” 

A smile, unsure wary, but a tiny wobbly smile, none the less greeted Genya in turn, and it made him feel even worse. Why did he keep putting Zenitsu through all this? What was wrong with him? 

Maybe... maybe he shouldn’t tell him... it was bound to make things... Zenitsu had so much to deal with already and – he couldn’t.... besides, they were travelling together now, and he would be there to stop... to do something and... it would be ok. He would tell him when Zenitsu didn’t have so much to... yeah. 

Maybe this wasn’t the right time. 

Yeah, this wasn’t the right time. 

Mentally nodding to himself once, he gave Zenitsu another smile before continuing with his work. 

He eventually managed to clean the ear and rebandage Zenitsu’s head without much fuzz and Genya felt like he’d calmed down significantly more now that he’d had time to come to a resolute conclusion.  

He wouldn’t tell Zenitsu anything. Not until he had concrete evidence that this problem could escalate and hurt not only Zenitsu but others as well.  

“All done,” he said, a bit more cheer coloring his voice this time and Zenitsu most have noticed because he perked up and his lips formed that little relieved smile of his that was becoming all too familiar to Genya. All too familiar. 

------ 

With the bags packed and the fire put out, they headed out to greet the blazing morning sun. Zenitsu kept complaining the whole way down the forest path however, and Genya found himself wishing he’d let him die several times over. “Could you shut up,” he finally snapped; irritation and heat burning away all his remaining stocks of patience. 

“I would,” Zenitsu gritted back out, legs kicking at any pebble in sight. “If Himejima-san didn’t just vanish out of the blue!” Spinning around on the spot, the blonde turned his head this way and that before directing Genya with a unimpressed gaze. “Why the hell haven’t we found him yet, or,” he hurried on; lifting a finger to keep Genya quiet. “Why did he leave in the first place!” 

The black-haired teen sighed. “Look,” he said; shifting his bag up a bit and biting back any scathing remarks resting on the tip of his tongue. They didn’t need another argument right now. “Himejima-san always scouts ahead so he is probably doubling back around right now or waiting for us somewhere down that hill.” Pointing at the wavy mountain path far off in the distance, he sent Zenitsu a tired look. “We just have to keep walking till we find him. He is a pillar you know. He probably has better things to do than babysit us in the middle of the day.” 

Himejima-san couldn’t waste his time on them. He was important.  

Like Sanemi. 

They saved lives, fought demon moons. 

Genya had long learned that training with Himejima-san was a privilege that he didn’t get to enjoy too much. There were only so much time that his teacher could spend on him, so... 

He always tried to make do with what he got.  

Himejima-san gave him more of his precious time than Sanemi ever did, so.... even if it wasn’t always enough, even if he missed him, even if he had to leave him for months at times,…. For a guy like him – it was a privilege to even be the center of focus even for a day let alone someone to be considered as a friend or a family. He would never let himself complain. Never. Not to Himejima-san, not to Zenitsu.  

Those tainted by the world deserved only the scraps of the table thrown at their feet by those more pure, more humane. He’d made his peace with that, so... 

“Let’s just continue,” he said; eyes resolutely looking at anything but the blonde standing next to him. “I’m sure we’re gonna find him eventually.” 

Zenitsu doesn’t say anything, but the way he’s holding himself, Genya knows whatever he wants to say is eating him up inside.  

It didn’t matter, Genya wasn’t ready to speak to him nor was he ready to divulge his secrets either. Not now. Maybe not ever. 

They continue walking for a while longer and by now, Zenitsu is practically looking at him every other second, and if the sun wasn’t making Genya’s sweat-soken skin itch in irritation, the blonde’s gaze was surely willing to fill the spot with no delay. 

“What?” He finally sighed, voice dipping low in what clearly conveyed his reluctantness to have this conversation with admirable quality. 

“Nothing,” was Zenitsu’s hurried reply, but a strong albeit friendly shove from Genya made him quickly change his tune. “I think something is bothering you, but you don’t want to talk about it and that’s ok and it’s probably something to do with your breathing style thingy and I just wanna let you know that I have problems too and I’m scared that I won’t be able to do it eithersoyou’renotaloneand---” 

“Oi oi oi, slow down.” 

Putting a gentle hand on the clearly distraught teen’s shoulder, Genya gave him a little shake. “Slow down Zenitsu. Just calm down. I don’t have any pro-” 

“No,” the blonde snapped; whirling around on him. “No. I know you’re worried. It’s obvious and I just...” his lips quivered and he looked down. “I just want to help.” 

Genya didn’t move for a second. Body frozen in place and face taking on a shocked expression.  

Of course he knew Zenitsu cared. An idiot could tell how much a kid like Zenitsu cared about those around him, but... No one had ever gone out of their way to try and help him before, except for Himejima-san, and even he wasn’t the most expressive person, so to hear this. So blatant, so obvious, to hear it be said without an ounce of hesitation, he... 

“Thank you.” 

He didn’t know what to say, not really but... 

“Thank you, Zenitsu.” 

“Yeah,” the other said; quickly wiping at his eyes and sending him another one of those worried smiles. “Yeah, anytime.” 

But, Genya couldn’t leave it there, couldn’t end it like that, not when the concern was so apparent in his friend’s eyes, so “Let’s talk about...” he started, fingers twitching with anxiety. “let's talk about this another time, when... when we’re both – I wanted to ask you about something you said during the fight too... let’s talk later ok? I want to... yeah, let’s do that.” 

Zenitsu nodded once; hesitant, unsure, then two more times, face taking on a more firmer look. “Definitely,” he said. “I can do that.” 

“Good.” 

“Good.” 

A comfortable silence draped over them after that, and they walked side by side towards where Genya hoped Himejima was.  

But suddenly something small and hard hits his temple, startling him out of his musing, and Genya automatically falls back two steps and his arm is reaching for his nonexistent sword before the burst of laughter coming from his left makes him narrow his eyes. “What did you just-” he begins before his eyes land on the stubby pinecone lying at his feet.  

Ok, so this is how it was now huh?  

Without even thinking he was picking up the small object and hurling it back at Zenitsu. The look on the other’s face almost too comical for words as the pinecone smacked him in the face. Going from laughter to stunned surprise before descending into utter annoyance. 

Genya couldn’t help but laugh. “Serves you right,” he said; a grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. His smug look didn’t last long however, because before he’d even had time to gloat at the perfect strike against Zenitsu’s forehead, a handful of leaves were thrown in his face and as soon as he was spluttering in indignity, a handful of moss was shoved into the front of his shirt, and ok.... that was it. 

Kicking out at the blonde, he kept his eyes on him as the other backed away and as soon as he created the perfect distance between them, putting Zenitsu right in front of a muddy patch of forest ground, Genya pounced. Zenitsu’s startled yell was music to his ears, and with a practiced move he’d used against his siblings more times than he could count, he wrapped both legs around Zenitsu’s own and dragged him to the ground; careful about his injured ear, but still, with utter glee, grabbing a handful of mud and smearing it across the other’s face and under his shirt over and over again until Zenitsu screamed he’d give up, and for whatever foolishness that took over Genya that day and convinced him to believe Zenitsu, well, he wanted a word, because the minute he let up even an inch, Zenitsu was flipping them over and now it was Genya’s head shoved in the mud.  

Great... 

But he wasn’t one to give up either, so he raised his only free arm and skimmed his fingers quickly across the blonde’s side, making him screech in laughter and boom, Genya flipped them again, but this time he fully got off him and before Zenitsu could get his baring's back collected a handful of pinecones and by the time Zenitsu was on his feet he was ready. 

“Don’t you dare,” the blonde spat; mud already drying on his face and hair sticking out everywhere; practically looking like a bird’s nest. 

Unfortunately for Zenitsu, Genya never had and never would show mercy. A vicious grin sprang up across his face and that’s all the warning the other got before Genya was pelting him with everything he got. Screaming Zenitsu ducked but no matter how hard he tried, there was no getting away from Genya’s assault, and from the quick thinking strategy that he’d thought up; kicking up pinecones to himself whenever he ran the danger of running out, well, it was safe to say this was not gonna end anytime soon, or... 

“What the...” Genya spluttered, for the next two pinecones were cut straight through with a sift movements of Zenitsu’s wrist and a glinting metal cleaving through the air.  

“That’s not fair,” he said, unwilling to admit to himself that he was clearly sulking as Zenitsu laughed loud and vindictive; sword dancing through the air in a series of overly fancy movements.  

“Don’t care,” Zenitsu grinned. “You should have thought of that before you got yourself cut in half and lost your sword.” 

“Hey!” 

Another laughter, and try as he might, Genya couldn’t stop the involuntary draw of his mouth into a smile. “You’re terrible,” he said, but there was no bite behind it. 

“Sure am,” was his answer. 

And then, just as he is about to declare a truce; hopefully to prevent Zenitsu from beating him with his unfair advantage, the other suddenly turned on the spot and snapped his eyes in the direction they were heading. His mouth is hanging open, his cheeks while still caked with mud looking almost flustered with the excitement and he's practically bouncing in place. 

“Zenitsu,” Genya called out, confusion evident in his voice, but it didn’t look like the blonde even heard him for in the next second he was fully running out into a sprint and.... 

“What the...” Genya hissed, before taking off after his friend. What the hell was going on? Following after Zenitsu through the forest, Genya tried to get his attention several times, but it looked like the blonde’s focus was entirely captured by something else and Genya couldn’t help but let his curiosity burn bright as they both with a burst of extra speed tumbled out of the trees and into a small clearing hugging the riverbank.  

It takes Genya a second for his eyes to adjust and he can make out Zenitsu’s figure next to him doing the exact same thing, albeit with more of a hurry. The second they both can see the whole clearing in its entirety, the second Genya’s eyes land on the stranger standing far off to the left by the river, two bags leaning against his leg and a snake curled around his neck, Zenitsu is off running away.  

“Wait Zenit-” he starts; arm reaching out to halt his friend, but a familiar hand descends on his shoulder, stopping him and when he looks up, Himejima-san is there, smiling down at him before softly shaking his head.  

Confused, he looks back towards the strange figure and by now Zenitsu was practically a hairbreadth away from him. “Obanai-senpai!” He screams; arms wide open and mouth split open into the biggest grin Genya had ever seen. “Obanai-senpai! Kaburamaru-san!” 

Obanai....senpai?  

The stranger turns around in the nick of time and just as Zenitsu is about to fling himself at him, the snake pillar side steps and Zenitsu goes flying towards the river and with a giant splash, his friend gets an unfortunate introduction to an early shower. His indignant cries of betrayal almost makes Genya snort, because wow.... the snake pillar really was something else.

But before he’s even had the chance to revel in Zenitsu’s misfortune, the snake pillar is drawing near the water edge and... with an elegant jump he too his knee deep in the river and after a second of just looking down at his student, he kneels down and reaches out to put his hand atop of the blonde, dirty hair, ruffling it briefly before letting it rest there; no intention in his frame that he’s about to remove his hand where it's comfortably just skimming through Zenitsu's hair. 

Genya isn’t Zenitsu, he isn’t Himejima-san. He can’t hear or interpret or feel whatever the snake pillar whispers towards his protegee, he wishes he did, he is happy he can’t ... but whatever is said, it makes Zenitsu reach up to hold Iguro-san's hand and for tears to start running down his cheeks. “I thought you left me behind!” Zenitsu wails and something deep and long forgotten strains in Genya’s chest. Because Iguro-san doesn’t dispel the despair or try to comfort his student, he only flicks him harshly on the forehead and stands up to get out of the water, making Zenitsu splutter in confusion and frustration. 

Frustration that apparently disappears without a trace the minute Iguro-san's snake slithers its way down its master’s shoulder and around the blonde’s arm with lightning speed Genya had only witnessed in Zenitsu. 

The minute the white snake is curled around Zenitsu’s neck; white head pressed up against his cheek, his friend is laughing with such a delight, Genya can do nothing but stare. Somewhat through the whole emotional reunion he himself had somehow drawn closer, near, too near because now he could practically make out the hissing noises of the snake and the bright light dancing in Zenitsu’s eyes. 

Standing there, watching Zenitsu interact with his real family....  Genya is happy for him. He really is. Zenitsu deserved to have people who cared about him in his life, and Iguro-san did, no matter how hard the older looked to be pretending otherwise, and that was good. That was really good. 

Clenching his fists, Genya tore his gaze away from the happy reunion, and his eyes landed on Himejima-san.  

Himejima-san who was standing by the wayside, a small but content smile curving around his mouth. 

And Genya’s stomach dropped. For some reason, the sight of Zenitsu with his teacher and him with his... 

He knew that it was only a matter of time before Himejima-san found someone who could embody the breath of stone. Someone to carry on his legacy, a proper student, someone who could... And when he did, he wouldn’t really have time for Genya and that was ok... he was lucky to have had all this time with Himejima-san already, but still.... it only solidified all that he’d ever known. 

Everyone leaves eventually. 

His mom, his siblings, Sanemi, now Zenitsu and eventually.... Himejima-san. 

Everyone leaves, so he should enjoy whatever time he had with them, because people like him didn’t get the same privileges bestowed on them like others. And that was fair. 

Yeah, that was fair. 

But as he watched Iguro-san twist Zenitsu’s head to the side so he could run a careful finger over his bandaged ear, as he heard his friend complain loudly making Iguro-san huff, and as Himejima-san's soft chuckles washed over him, suddenly, suddenly nothing about this situation seemed fair at all.  

‘ Aniki,’  he thought, eyes stinging as a grinning boy with hair as white as snow echoed through his mind. ‘I miss you. ’ 

Chapter Text

To recognize that your very presence is miniscule in comparison to even the shadows of those more important. To know without a sliver of doubt that no matter what you do, you are not and never will fit in. To see... to see 

It hurt. Genya had always known. Of course he had. He wasn’t an idiot. He wasn’t born yesterday. He knew his place in this wretched world and he knew from the bottom of his heart that abominations like him weren’t wanted or needed, but he’d done a fantastic job to keep those volcanic emotions under lock and key. 

He’d never wavered. Never allowed himself to slow down to stop and breath in, the worries floating around him. He hadn’t wanted to look back. To stop in his track of reaching his goal of pillar-hood and look over his shoulder. Not to the brother he was so desperately trying to catch up to, but to his kind older brother who’d been left behind in the wake of their tragedy. 

The shorter Sanemi, the smiling Sanemi... his hero Sanemi. Sanemi who could laugh at the face of any struggle. Sanemi who held their mother close as she wept; bruises all over. Sanemi who... 

Suddenly, it became hard to breath. 

His lungs strained, his vision blurred and Genya he... 

‘Not the time,’ a voice in his head flared up, sounding almost suspiciously similar to his father. ‘Never show weakness. Never let yourself feel. Don’t be pathetic son.’  

And just as soon as all those whirlwinds of emotions had bubbled up to the surface, they vanished. 

Genya breathed; fingers clenching by his side, once twice. He breathed again. 

‘No more weakness,’  he told himself, finally looking up.‘I won’t ever reach Ani- Sanemi like this.’  

No more. 

“Shinazugawa Genya, right?” 

Genya’s vision cleared, his mouth snapped shot and his gaze connected with the mismatched pair of Iguro Obanai’s. He smiled thinly. “Yeah,” he said, taking the last few steps between them and hesitantly reaching out to capture the offered hand directed at him by the snake pillar. A quick firm squeeze and he let go. “Nice to meet you Iguro-san.” 

The older man nodded. “It’s nice to meet you as well. Himejima-san...” he said glancing over to the other pillar. “Has told me a great deal about you. He is very proud.” 

And just like that, any sort of will he’d forced upon himself crumbled in the face of that voiced acknowledgement.  

“Oh,” he said. 

He knew Himejima-san was proud of him. Well, not proud per se, but that he liked him well enough and that he was willing to oversee his training. But... there was nothing to be proud of him for. Not for Himejima-san. Not for Sanemi. He wasn’t there yet. So- 

“I’m glad to hear that.”  

His smile doesn’t feel as genuine, as natural, and some of what is lurking underneath his physical appearance most show itself on his face, for in a split second Iguro-san's expression goes from unreadable to slightly concerned. 

Reaching up, the man claps him on the shoulder; thin brows drawn up in a frown and sunken eyes narrowing. 

“It was quite impressive,” he said. “how you saved Agatsuma. You took down those two demons single handedly. You seem very well trained Shinazugawa, take pride in that.” 

Genya gaped. His surprised expression only matched by Zenitsu himself, who for all intent and purpose looked as if the world had just ended. 

“How come you compliment him and not me,” the blonde spluttered, creating enough temporary commotion for Genya to gather himself back up, and by the time Iguro-san had turned back around to face him; a disgruntled Zenitsu pouting by the wayside, Genya was smiling again. 

“Thank you Iguro-san,” he said, allowing himself to just embrace the compliment for what it was. It was clear the snake pillar didn’t hand over words of praise all that often, so the fact that he’d taken the time to- “It means a lot coming from a pillar like you.”  

Iguro-san was kind he noted. 

He was kind. 

“Of course,” the older man said, patting him once on the shoulder before dropping his arm. “Now you and Agatsuma better wash up.” wrinkling his nose he side-stepped him. “God knows you both look filthy.” 

Genya eyes connected with Zenitsu’s and they both simultaneously looked down. And yeah, right there was the evidence for everyone to see. That their dumb mud fight had utterly ruined their cloths. Genya flushed. Of all the ways to meet a pillar, this was it? Zenitsu didn’t seem half as embarrassed as he was feeling right now, and Genya could strangle him. This was all his fault to begin with and- 

A familiar hand descended on his shoulder and he looked up. Himejima-san smiled down at him, gaze locked on something unseen over his ear. “Take a bath first and then come find us,” he said, turning to follow the snake pillar who’d come to a stop just a few steps away. 

“Kaburamaru,” Iguro-san said, when Himejima was standing next to him. “Zenitsu needs to wash up. Let’s go.” 

All he got in return was a soft hiss as the snake curled even tighter around Zenitsu’s neck, only letting up when the blonde let out alarmingly real chocking noises. 

“Fine,” Iguro said, shaking his head; the light crinkles at the corner of his eyes giving him away. “Just don’t get in the water you idiot. We both know you can’t swim.” 

The snake hissed again, and Iguro-san opted to ignore it this time, walking away without a second glance, catching up to Himejima-san who was almost out of sight by now. And in a blink of an eye both of them disappearing behind the tree lines.  

Sighing softly; eyes still lingering on where the two figures had been, Genya’s shoulders slumped. “I guess we should-” he started, but as soon as he turned to face the waterfront, a giant splash of river water came crashing down on him, drenching him from head to toe. “What the-” he spit out, mouthful of water making his words gurgly and unintelligible.  

The hyena cackles however, were pretty good indicator of what was going on. Again. 

“You little,” he snared; hands coming up to rub the sting out of his eyes. “I will end you!” 

“I would like to see you try!”  

Zenitsu was already waist deep in the river and was currently swimming further and further away. “If you can get to me that is!” 

Yeah, he was so dead. 

Throwing off his shoes and bag in one fluid motion, Genya bent his knees, stretched out his muscles and sprang into a run; not being too far from the riverbank, he didn’t get the exact momentum he’d wanted to fully reach his friend, but all the same, the look of utter horror on Zenitsu’s face as he descended from the sky; was almost priceless.  

Zenitsu screamed bloody murder as a wave dragged him under, and Genya had a split second of ingraining that picture into his permanent mental folder before his head too submerged under water. Darkness swallowed him momentarily, and he kicked out hard until his face reemerged from below the surface. Taking a couple of gaping breaths as he looked around for his current enemy.  

No ripples, no movement. No nothing. Everything was still, too still. 

Genya frowned. That wasn’t normal. Did something happen to- 

A sudden grip around his waist made him yelp, and then he was being dunked underwater again. 

Why that little.  

Reaching behind him blindly, his fingers finally came into contact with wet mop of hair, and he tugged, hard. 

A startled screech and a panicked floundering later, and his jailer was resurfacing for air and Genya took advantage of that moment and popped up as well; pushing his arms and legs forward to put some distance between them. 

“Nice try Zen,” he grinned. “But no way I’ll let you beat me!” 

Zenitsu who was busy coughing dramatically into his fist could do nothing more than to glare back at him halfheartedly. Genya winked back and the blonde stuck out his tongue in a childish retaliation. 

And... 

This whole situation was so ridiculous and- 

Genya’s mouth tugged at the corners and his chest rumbled before he burst out laughing; almost tumbling back face first into the river. Tears were leaking from the corner of his eyes and his stomach hurt, but he just couldn’t stop. Giggles turning into snickers before delving into full-blown laughing fit.  

Whatever humor he most have derived from the situation was apparently contagious because Zenitsu too was roaring with laughter by the end of it. He didn’t know how long they kept it up. Every time one of them slowed down, they would look at each other and it would start up all over again. 

“Oh God,” Zenitsu said, body bumping into his as they floated lazily past each other, almost twenty minutes later. “I never thought I could-” 

“Laugh like that again?” 

“Yeah.” 

Genya smiled up at the sky, eyes somewhat still itching. “Me too.” 

“We should probably hurry and get washed up.”  

Geyna snorted. “You don’t say.” 

A snide jab here and there while still being unable to stop themselves from flicking water at each other every now and then, and they were done with their shower without any more incidences.  

Pushing themselves back up to dry land, Genya busied himself with picking up his cloths while Zenitsu went around the water edge looking for the snake, a happy shout indicated that he’d found him and when Genya turned around to look for him, he saw his friend a bit further away; kneeling down with haori circling around the white reptile. “Got him,” he called out, standing up again, dripping water everywhere but a satisfied smile on his face as he carried Kaburamaru back over to where Genya was waiting for him. 

“Let’s go,” Genya said as soon as the blonde reached him, side-eyeing the hissing snake who looked to be glaring up at him with its beady eyes. “We need to find the others.” 

Zenitsu hummed, and they were off searching for their pillars yet again. This time they weren’t difficult to find. Both of them sitting close together discussing something in a low tone under the shadow of the thick forest trees.  

Neither pillar turned to look at them as they arrived, so after sharing a quick glance, both he and Zenitsu silently sat down next to their teachers and waited to see if they would be addressed. 

“I’m sure they are looking for something,” Himejima-san was saying, his low tone dripping down into an edge of worry. “There is no other reason for this new erratic behaviour.” 

Iguro-san frowned. “You’ve guessed as much Himejima-san,” he said. “Whatever has them chasing down the old scriptures most have some connections to Kuwajima-san.” 

“Gramps?” Zenitsu blurted and got a slap to the back of his head for his troubles. 

“Master is rather concerned,” the stone pillar leaned forward; a tightened frown around his mouth that made Genya’s stomach churn uncomfortably. “Demons aren’t supposed to act like this. Kuwajima-sama most have done something to warrant this level of scrutiny and unrest activities.” 

Iguro-san nodded. “But what?” 

A heavy silence fell over them and, in that time, Himejima-san turned slightly to put an arm around Genya’s shoulder. The younger’s bare skin prickled under the touch, but the familiar warmth of Himejima-san's figure was a welcoming wall against the cold air.  

“You will catch a cold like this,” his teacher hummed. Genya snorted. 

“I got cut in half less than a day ago sensei. I doubt the common cold will take me now.” 

“You can never be too careful.” 

“Of course,” he said, eyes flickering over to the other pair. Watching as Iguro-san began to unwrap the bandages around Zenitsu’s head. “What were you guys talking about anyways?” 

Reaching down beside him, Himejima elected not to answer him at first, instead picking up his own haori from where it had been sticking out of Genya’s bag and unfolded it. “Demons haven’t been behaving as expected of them,” he said; throwing the haori around the younger’s shoulders. The warmth it emitted was almost instant. Genya shivered bringing it closer. “As far as we can tell,” he continued. “Most of the erratic activities is keeping to Obanai’s area.” 

“Or,” Iguro-san finished. “Kuwajima-san’s former sector to be exact. Something is connecting both incidences and we need to figure out what that is.” 

“What,” Zenitsu said, pulling away from the snake pillar’s examination; looking a mixture between stunned and distraught. “Your sector used to be gramps?” 

Iguro-san's fingers still before picking back up again. “Yeah,” he said, not looking at any of them. “After he retired, I took over his area. He still live-  lived  there, but your-” he swallowed, and when he spoke again his voice was even, calm, controlled. “It was my job to slay the demons roaming that area. Every pillar is assigned a specific location, and that’s how it has been for over thousands of years.” 

Zenitsu was the first to look away. The rapid emotions dancing in his eyes were almost too overwhelming to look at, and Genya found himself pushing back the nausea threatening to drown him. 

“Needless to say,” Himejima said, cutting through the tension. “Something dangerous is brewing behind the horizon and we need to figure it out before it’s too late.” Iguro-san nodded; fingers steady as they dabbed carefully at the still sluggishly bleeding stump that once was Zenitsu’s ear. 

“How are Rengoku and Kanroji holding up with the extra work?” he asked finally. 

Himejima frowned. “Not well I'm afraid. Your job atop of their own is putting strain on the quality of their work. You need to come back soon.” 

“I will.” 

“When?” 

“As soon as I can.” 

“....Very well.” 

Chapter Text

Securing the white gauze around Zenitsu’s head, Iguro-san turned back around to continue to converse with Himejima-san, but before he could so much as utter a single word, Zen let out a shout of delight and scurried around the snake pillar to get his hand on one of the bags sitting behind him. “My bag,” he exclaimed, mouth drawing up into a relieved smile. “You found my bag!” 

Iguro-san sighed, reached out without a second glance and flicked him on the forehead. 

“Ouch,” Zenitsu yelped; rubbing the sore spot with the hand not currently circled around his bag. “That hurt.” 

“Stop whining,” Iguro-san said. “And try to take better care of your things next time Agatsuma.” 

The blonde nodded, but it was obvious anything the snake pillar said was going in one ear and out the other, because even before the last word left Iguro-san's mouth, Zenitsu was opening up his bag and rifling through it. “Finally,” he said grinning. “Dry clothes.”   

Genya had mostly been keeping an eye on Himejima-san who was silently looking over his broken sword; running his finger over the edge and frowning ever so slightly as he twisted the remaining metal around, but he still couldn’t help himself from occasionally having his attention diverted to the pair sitting across from them on the opposite side of the fire. They were.... interesting to say the least.  

It was painfully apparent from where he sat, that Zenitsu absolutely adored Iguro-san. The way his eyes lit up, how he clung to every word the man said and the sheer fact that he listened, actually listened to the snake pillar even when he didn’t like what he was hearing. It made it all very obvious. 

If that wasn’t hero-worship, Genya didn’t know what it was.‘It’s a sibling relationship you dumbass,’ his mind suddenly sup p lied. It’s obvious that to Zenitsu, Iguro is his brother. You’ll never fit into Sanemi’s life like that ever again. You burned that bridge when you blamed him for your mother’s death.’   

He winced, turning sharply to look back on his sword again as he blinked furiously to expel whatever nonsense words running through his head. “Is it fixable,” he blurted out, not looking at anything but the glinting blade in his mentor’s lap.  

Himejima-san snorted.  

“I’m afraid not Genya,” he said, picking both pieces up and folding them back into a buddle of cloth. “You will need a new blade.” Genya grimaced not really surprised. 

“Yeah,” he said. “Thought as much.” 

Himejima-san opened his mouth to answer him, but just as the first sound emerged past his lips, Iguro-san broke into their conversation. 

“How badly are they doing Himejima?” he asked, voice soft and words wary. “Be honest with me.” 

Genya blinked up at his master before his gaze slid over to the snake pillar, confusion dripping from his frame. What was Iguro-san talking about? But Himejima-san most have understood whatever the other man was implying, for his lips drew into a thin line and his brows furrowed in his tell-tale sign of worry. “They are holding up for now,” he said, leaning slightly forward. “But Rengoku is not doing great and since he is also helping the Kakushi look for Shinazugawa, he is stretching himself too far out. Kanroji is also not faring well. We need you back Iguro.” 

The snake pillar’s expression wasn’t easy to read, and Genya found himself sharing a look of apprehension with Zenitsu when the silence between the pillars stretched out for far too long. Finally, Iguro-san's still figure twitched and he exhaled loudly. “I need to get to Yui-sama as quickly as possible,” he said, his hands clenching and unclenching. “It’s the only way I can speed up the process.” 

‘What process?’ Genya wanted to ask, and he was sure Zen felt the same too, but they both wisely kept their mouths shut. 

Himejima-san hummed. “Genya and I can accompany you for the rest of your journey if you wish?” Genya froze.  

They.... 

His eyes locked onto Zenitsu’s own, and the other boy was equally as shocked as he was. A shock that quickly transformed into a mischievous grin.  

They were going to travel together. That was... it was – it gave him time. Time to tell Zenitsu about everything and time to train and learn and- 

“Taking the quicker path will reduce our travel time from four to less than two days,” Iguro-san said, his words breaking through and into Genya’s thoughts.  

Oh 

Zenitsu’s face fell almost immediately.  

Genya fought to keep his neutral.  

It was as he’d expected. Nothing more nothing less. At least now, they still had some time. Genya could still do right by Zenitsu, and then, maybe they would meet again.  

He blinked back the stinginess in his eyes and breathed. He was ok. He was fine. Besides, he would see Zenitsu during the final selection and unlike Sanemi, his friend would surely answer his letters. Not that he wanted to write him or anything, but if he did, Zen wouldn’t ignore him, so it was fine. 

Sending the blonde what he thought was a reassuring nod, he fixed his gaze back on the conversation and listened. Somehow, he most have been zoning out for longer than he’d imagined because he only caught the tail end of the pillar’s agreement before Iguro-san was facing Zenitsu again and; suddenly turning their current conversation on its head, asked his student point blank why he had let himself be caught in a trap so easily. 

Genya winced and he saw from the corner of his eye, Himejima giving the blonde a sympathetic smile. 

“Don’t look at them Agatsuma,” Iguro-san said; tapping Zenitsu on the forehead. “Look at me.” 

The blonde did, albeit hesitantly so. 

“Why,” the snake pillar repeated again. “Did you fall into that trap. Did I not tell you to be constantly aware of your surroundings?” 

“I-” The look on Zenitsu’s face, Genya frowned in sympathy. It was painful to watch. “I know, it’s just nothing was happening and-” 

Iguro-san flicked him on the forehead again. “It doesn’t matter how peaceful a place looks, brat. You’re always supposed to be prepared for anything, especially at night. There is a reason,” he said tapping the blonde on the side of his head. “I told you to constantly focus on your hearing ability. Did anything I say even register in your brain?” 

By now Zenitsu looked on the verge of tears, and Genya’s stomach coiled. Clenching his fingers, he found himself having to bite down, hard on his tongue to keep himself from saying something. 'Iguro-san is a pillar,’  he told himself, anger boiling in his veins.‘He knows what he’s doing. He isn’t being mean for no reason.’  

But aren’t people mean for no reason all the time?  The traitorous voice in his head shimmed in. Sanemi is mean, and Sanemi is also a pillar.  

“I tried ok!” Zenitsu suddenly exclaimed; cheeks flushed and eyes glistering. “You just left me, and I didn’t know if you were coming back, and I tried!” Iguro-san's blank expression only seemed to fuel him even more. Now that Zen had started, it didn’t look like he was ready to stop. “You never tell me anything,” he said; having scrambled back on his feet and glaring down at the snake pillar. “You keep telling me to try harder, but when I do, it’s never good enough for you!” 

Iguro-san stared at him in momentary silence, before sighing out loud. “Sit down Agatsuma,” he said. 

“No.” Zenitsu folded his arms up and pouted. 

“Sit down Agatsuma,” Iguro-san sighed again, patting the spot next to him. “I have yet to commend you for mastering of the fourth style.” 

“What?” 

Faint crinkles at the corners of Iguro-san's eyes made Genya almost believe the man was smiling under the bandages. If he was smiling, Genya couldn’t blame him, Zenitsu’s gob smacked face was highly entertaining.  “You saw my fourth style!” The blonde said, dropping lightening quick down on his knees. “How did it look? Was it awesome? Did it look likes gramps? Did it look cool-” 

Iguro-san held up a hand, but that did not seem to deter Zenitsu at all, so the snake pillar just slapped his hand over the blonde’s mouth. “Shhhh,” he said, bringing a finger up to his bandaged face. “Stop talking brat.” 

When he finally got a nod and a muffled agreement, the snake pillar let Zenitsu go. “I wasn’t there when you used the fourth style,” he said. “But I heard it from Himejima-san that you stepped up when you saw what happened to Genya and you beat the demon.” Raising his arm again, he patted Zenitsu’s blonde locks. “Well done.” 

His friend beamed at the compliment. The sheer sunshine pouring out of him almost blinding. “You mean it?” he asked, practically vibrating on the spot. “Because I know I’m amazing, I just never thought you would realize it too.” 

An almost chuckle and Iguro-san cuffed Zenitsu on the back of the head. “Whatever kid. I will reserve my judgment until I actually see it. So,” he said, tapping the hilt of Zenitsu’s sword. “Give me a demonstration?” 

As if it was possible, Zenitsu brightened even further and this time Iguro-san did snort. “Get dressed first,” he muttered, and well- 

Genya couldn’t help but smile. Their relationship was interesting, but it was clear as day that Iguro-san looked out for Zenitsu and that was good. That was really good. Standing up, he quickly bowed to the two pillars; grabbed his own pile of clothes before Himejima-san; who’d been filing his axe could say something and left.  

------- 

He was meditating quietly by the riverside when Himejima-san eventually found him. Breathing out slowly, Genya opened his eyes, catching the imposing figure of his teacher on the reflection of the still water. 

“Thinking?”  

Genya sighed. “Yeah.” 

“About?” Himejima-san asked; taking a seat beside him without any prompting on his part. 

“If you knew something about someone,” Genya started, fingers rubbing against each other in an anxious need to do something. “Should you... would you tell them?” 

Himejima-san didn’t say anything at first, choosing instead to pick up a rock to examine. He ran his fingers over it slowly, calloused fingertips examining the smooth surface. “Do you think it’s important for them to know,” he finally asked, passing him the strangely beautiful rock. “For your collection,” he said when Genya looked at him in confusion. 

Flushing beet red, Genya stuffed the rock quickly in his pocket and tried his best not to look at his teacher, even if the other man wouldn’t have noticed.  

How had he known?   

Collecting rocks was a dumb hobby, Genya knew that, but Teiko, his sister... his beautiful baby sister she’d loved... she.... collecting dumb rocks was silly, but- 

“Thank you, Himejima-san,” he said, voice almost too soft to be heard, but Himejima-san nodded and reached out to squeeze his shoulder. 

“Tell me what’s troubling you. Do you think they need to know?” 

Shrugging, Genya gnawed at his bottom lip. “I don’t know. I think he does? I mean,” he said. “It looked dangerous and he might hurt himself if I don’t tell him.” 

Himejima patted him on the shoulder then. “There you go. If you feel that way, you’re only going to do yourself and Agatsuma a disservice if you don’t tell him.” 

Startled, Genya shot Himejima a look, but then his own lips involuntarily tugged into a smile and he snorted. “You already knew who I was talking about didn’t you?” 

“Yes.” Himejima-san smiled. 

A comforting silence fell between them, and both were content in just sitting there, calmly taking in the world around them. But no peace ever lasted forever and Genya eventually found himself stealing more and more glances at his master. 

“What is it?” Himejima-san asked, when it became apparent something was seriously bothering Genya. 

“You’re leaving again. Aren’t you?” the teen blurted out, all the tact he’d wanted to use flying out the window the minute the first sound left his mouth.  

Himejima-san nodded. 

Swallowing thickly, Genya looked away. “For how long?” 

“Two weeks,” his mentor said; voice as calm as ever. “Right after we escort your friend and Iguro to the village.” 

“Who am I training with this time?”  

This was a familiar song and dance. Genya didn’t even know why he was taking it so badly this time. Himejima-san was the strongest pillar in the world. He was needed elsewhere, and the fact that he always found the time to train him in between his missions was just another testament to his greatness. Genya was grateful, he really was, but... 

To find out that he had a breath style all along, to lose Zenitsu just as they’d become friends, for Sanemi to be missing it.... 

It was just a little bit too much at the moment. Still, he could handle it. He was made of off tougher stuff than his father would have ever given him credit for. 

“Since we’ve discovered recently about your innate ability to use breath, I can’t send you to Miko-san this time.” 

“Why not?” Genya asked; slightly disappointed. Miko wasn’t the best demon slayer, but she’d been an excellent teacher and one of the primary reasons why he could handle as much pain as he did.  

“She isn’t qualified to teach you this.” 

“Then who is?” 

Himejima turned around to look at him this time, a ghost of a smile curling at the edge of his mouth. “I wished for Urokodaki-sama to take you in, but sadly he seems to currently be preoccupied with another student.” 

“Who is Urokodaki?” 

Himejima-san's shoulders tightened before they loosened. “The former water pillar,” he said. 

“Oh,” Genya said. “That’s cool.” 

An uncharacteristic snort came out of Himejima-san, startling Genya and making the older man shake his head in amusement. “That it is. But never mind him Genya. Kochou is willing to look after you while I’m gone. She already has a student, but she believes she has room for you and does find your particular situation... fascinating.” 

Genya frowned. “That does not sound ominous at all.” Himejima smiled again.  

“Don’t cause her any trouble while I’m gone.” Genya glared. 

“I’m not a child.” 

“I know.” 

Looking back across the river again, Genya tried his hardest to keep his voice even when he spoke next. “Don’t die out there.” 

Reaching out to pull him against his side, Himejima-san rested his cheek atop of his head and sighed. “I’ll do my best.” 

It wasn’t a promise, but it was enough. 

----- 

They made their way back to the clearing, and Genya, while he doesn’t feel happy per se, is experiencing a level of contentedness that can only come from talking to Himejima-san. Contentedness that is immediately dashed when they come across their two companions. 

“Again,” Iguro-san snapped at the blonde who was gripping his sword with all his might, buckets of sweat drenching his uniform. “Focus, Agatsuma!” 

Breathing deeply, Zenitsu steeled himself. Brought his sword up again, planted his left leg ever so slightly behind his right and the air crackled. Brushes of pure lightening skimming all around his body, and then- 

Zenitsu’s eyes slammed open and he brought the metal down sharply. 

“Breath of Thunder Fourth Style: Distant Thunder!”  he roared, and the x built up; burning, screeching, dancing before it whirled into a blazing lightening symbol and hurtled towards the tree; smashing it into pieces. 

Gaping, Genya watched as the tree fell, right on top of the four other chopped up trees. 

“What about...” Zenitsu breathed, looking at Iguro-san; gaze glazed and tired. “What about this time?” 

The snake pillar shook his head. “No, do it again.” 

“But-” Zenitsu spluttered; waving his sword at the fallen trees. “It looks right! I did it right! Look!” 

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Iguro-san sighed. “It doesn’t matter whether you do it right brat, if you do it slow!” 

“What?” 

“I said,” Iguro-san glared. “You’re slow. If the sun had set before that demon attacked, it would have killed you right after it killed Shinazugawa. The sunlight in the clearing was what kept your alive brat. Not your skill.” 

It was as if someone had taken everything good and kind about Zenitsu and stomped on it, because the heart break in his eyes was heart shattering. “You don’t...” his friend said; glancing over in their direction before flinching when their gaze met.  He hadn’t wanted them to see him like this.  Genya’s stomach turned. “You don’t think it’s good enough?” Zenitsu asked hesitantly, voice soft but wind still managing to carry it over for them to hear. 

“It’s good enough,” Iguro-san said; arms crossed and mismatched eyes pinning the blonde down. “The problem is that your fourth style is currently useless in battle because you can’t use it quick enough. You sacrificed your speed,” he said, pointing to Zenitsu’s legs. “For power and that isn't going to work for me. So,” he turned away to take his seat by the giant boulder. “Again.” 

Chapter Text

Zenitsu was struggling. It was painful to watch. The blonde teen was breathing heavily, lips drawn into a tight frown and face flushed with exhaustion. His hands were shaking were his fingers locked around the sword hilt, and Genya knew that it would be a matter of minutes before his friend would be laying on the ground, utterly spent.  

He gritted his teeth. What the hell was wrong with Iguro-san? Couldn’t he see? Couldn’t he tell that Zen was trying? That he was putting his all into getting this right so the snake pillar would be proud? Didn’t he understand that Zenitsu thought the world of him. Why would he- 

“Again!” 

‘Ok,’ he thought, taking a step forward. 'That’s it.’  

He didn’t know what he was going to say or do, and hell, Iguro-san might just backhand him for insubordination, but seeing Zenitsu, his friend.... who’d looked so happy to be reunited with Iguro-san just hours ago, seeing him – his bruises, his eyes, he-- 

It didn’t matter. He wasn’t going to let that  snake  hurt his friend, not anymore. 

But just as he was about to open his mouth, to say something, do something, a familiar hand descended on his shoulder, and as if on command, Genya came to a halt. “Himeji-” he started in indignation, but as he turned to look at the older man, he didn’t need to be a mind reader to tell what command his mentor was conveying to him. 

Iguro Obanai is a pillar show some respect.  

And..... nop, no way.  

Genya glared. “He’s hurting Zenitsu,” he hissed; voice low as not to be overheard. “I have to do something.” But again Himejima-san gave him that look. Genya found his anger rising up even further. Why couldn’t Himejima-san just- 

“Iguro,” his mentor suddenly called out, abruptly cutting off his train of thought. “Can I speak to you for a second?” 

The snake pillar who’d just stood up to correct Zenitsu’s stance cocked his head ever so slightly to indicate he’d heard him; briefly Genya was reminded of a snake before he shook the thought off and tried to focus back on the conversation.  

“What is it?” Iguro-san said, fingers gripping around Zenitsu’s own. 

“I would like to talk to young Zenitsu about his hearing ability if you don’t mind,” Himejima-san said slowly, taking a careful step forward. “And I do believe he is in need of a break.” 

Genya was surprised when the snake only sighed in resignation and tilted his head backward to glare up at the sky. “Very well,” he said, and he sounded so put out that Himejima-san actually snorted in amusement, startling Genya. “Take him.” Letting go of Zenitsu’s hand; were he’d been in the process of fixing his grip, Iguro-san waved the relieved teen away. “He’s not getting anything done today apparently.” 

The blonde’s shoulders sagged with relief, and the brightest of smiles danced across his lips. “Thanks senpai!” he said; exhaustion and pain momentarily buried under sheer gratitude. “I’ll train harder tomorrow!” 

The snake pillar only shook his head and stepped back. “Whatever brat,” he said; reaching up to briefly run his fingers through the sweaty locks. “You’re lucky Himejima-san is so soft.” Zenitsu’s jittery frame paused for a second under Iguro-san's surprisingly fond tone, before he grinned again. 

“It’s because Himejima-san is the best,” he said; ducking out of the snake pillar’s reach and rushing over to Genya and his mentor. Himejima-san only smiled when the exhausted boy came to a stop next to them; putting a gentle arm around his shoulders as he started to lead him away.  

“You need to wash up first Agatsuma,” he was saying as they disappeared behind the forest lines, and all Genya could do was blink after them in astonishment. 

‘Hold up,’ he thought, the edge of panic crawling up his spine. ‘Wait a minute! You can’t just leave me here with Iguro-san! What the hell Himejima-san! Why would you just-’  

His inner dialogue most have muted his surroundings, because yet again he was caught off guard by a hand landing on his shoulder. He yelped, swiveling around to meet his assailant and was only greeted with a raised eyebrow and a scrunched-up nose. “You need to be more aware of your surroundings.” 

The snake pillar turned his sword this way and that. “Just because you’re immortal, doesn’t mean you can’t eventually die. What if,” he said, suddenly bringing the glinting blade a hairbreadth away from his neck, Genya startled backwards; hand unconsciously coming up to protect his throat. Iguro-san huffed. “You need to be more aware of your surroundings,” he repeated. 

“I-” Genya said, hand still loosely hovering over his chest. “I-” 

Because what the hell! The bastard could have killed him. Was he insane? Did he just bring his fucking blade that close to... what if he accidently went too far? What would he have told Himejima-san? The snake pillar was crazy! 

‘But is he?’ The traitorous voice in the back of his mind piped up again. ‘We both know that you’ll eventually have to be careful, if you want to learn the breath.’  

To learn the breath..... to learn.  

He bit his lip and looked down. “Thank you for your advice, Iguro-san.” 

The snake pillar only hummed in reply, sword still held loosely between his fingers. “Did you know,” he said, making Genya look up to meet his gaze. The snake pillar wasn’t looking at him though, mismatched eyes transfixed on something far away and unseen across the distance. “That Sanemi saved me fourteen times?” 

Genya blinked; momentarily stunned. “No.” 

Iguro-san nodded, still not looking at him. “I saved him only thirteen times,” he said; the briefest hint of humour in his tone. Genya thought he’d imagined it. “Although he likes to pretend, he didn’t need my help during the final selection, still,” and there was no doubt about the fondness in his voice now; barely there, but for a guy like Genya who’d worked so hard to tell apart intentions, feelings, sincerity because of his fathe—it was easy to tell. Easy to hear. 

“I have no intention of letting you die because of your own stupidity,” Iguro-san said then, breaking him out of his observation. “Why do you want to be a demon slayer, Shinazugawa?” 

The question was so unexpected, so sudden and random that Genya almost flinched, almost. “What... why do you ask?” he stuttered out; wincing at his own blatant uncertainty.  

“Curiosity,” Iguro-san said; crouching down as a white snake head popped out of the grass; allowing Kaburamaru to climb up his shoulder. “Sanemi doesn’t want you here Shinazugawa, so why are you here?” 

It was as if someone had taken a hold of his heart and squeezed. 

He couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t.... he couldn’t breathe.  

Anik- Sanemi didn’t want him to be a demon sl... he knew that, he knew, but.... Sanemi had told others, had told the snake pillar..... did he really hate him that much? Did he really.... would he ever get the opportunity to apologize, to do right by.... to maybe ask for forgiveness? Was that even possible? 

He swallowed... fingers unconsciously clenching and unclenching. He blinked. 

What did any of that even matter?  

He had a goal, didn’t he? 

Genya wasn’t going to lose. 

He wasn’t going to lose to anyone. 

“I’ll become a pillar Iguro-san,” he said, voice loud, eyes narrowed. “And I’ll stand by my brother as an equal. I won't accept anything less.” 

Chapter Text

Iguro-san's gaze was heavy, and for a while the pillar chose to say nothing, scrutinizing him with a steady eye and a deep frown instead. Genya tried not to flinch.  

Finally, the snake pillar sighed loudly, plopped down on the grass beneath them and patted the spot next to him. “Sit,” he said. Genya blinked down at him in surprise. What- 

Iguro-san repeated the gesture and said louder this time. “Sit Shinazugawa. We have much to talk about.” 

Taking a tentative step forward, Genya made his way over to the older man and carefully lowered himself down next to him; legs pulled up to his chest and arms tightly woven around them.  

“I heard from Himejima that you can use the breath, is that correct?” 

Iguro-san is gently patting Kaburamaru as he speaks, and while there seems to be a hint of curiosity in his words, he still sounded rather disinterested in the topic. 

Strangely enough, that seems to calm down the panicked ripple of emotions dancing in Genya’s chest and the teen nods. “Yeah. Zenitsu told me that he could hear it.” 

The snake pillar’s hand paused, his gaze shifting to scrutinize him again before he goes back to playing with his reptile. “Any reasons as to why neither you nor Himejima ever figured it out?” 

Genya frowned. “Not really, no.” He said; eyes fixed on his knees. “I’ve tried so hard to learn it for months, and I was so sure that I didn’t have the talent, that I couldn’t do what Sanemi could... and to hear....” he continued, voice almost descending into a murmur. “That I had it all along.... How come I couldn’t tell?” He doesn’t try to phrase it as a question, but it comes out as such. 

“Because more than one ability is speaking to you,” Iguro-san answered him nonetheless, both shocking and confusing him. 

“What do you mean?” 

Placing Kaburamaru on a sunny patch on top of a rotten log, Iguro-san turned around fully to face him. “You have two abilities,” he said; raising two fingers and waving them back and forth. “You can heal with the help of your demonic powers and,” he spoke louder, interrupting Genya’s spluttering. “You have an innate ability to slay demons.” Tapping Genya on the forehead, the snake pillar tilted his head and breathed a sigh of amusement. “Of course you couldn’t tell you had the ability brat, your demonic powers were too loud and that’s probably why Agatsuma was the only one to hear it.” 

Genya blinked, once twice. “Oh.” 

“Yeah.” Picking up his sword, Iguro-san balanced it at the tip of his fingers and looked back up at Genya. “Have you tried using it, your breath I mean?” 

Frowning, Genya shook his head, still keeping an eye on the elegantly crafted blade. “I don’t know where to begin. I talked to Himejima-san, but I can’t feel what he’s talking about. That weird thing-” he said, waving one hand across his chest, unable to fully put it into words. “I don’t know what that is, and now that I know I have it, I don’t understand why it hasn’t changed anything. I still can’t feel...  it,  you know?” 

Something in his words must have caught the pillar’s attention, because the older man suddenly stilled and in doing so dropped the sword, the metal gently hitting the grass between them with a silent clonk. “Shinazugawa,” he said slowly, crossing his legs now and observing him carefully through his bangs. “How does it feel, to die?” 

“What?” 

Iguro-san shook his head and reached out to point at his chest. “When you were cut in half, how did it feel?” 

Confused, all Genya could do was shrug. “It hurt,” he said, dragging the words out in hopes of understanding them himself. “It always hurts it wasn’t anything new.” 

Humming, Iguro-san leaned even closer. “But you didn’t die,” he said. “You knew you wouldn’t die?” 

“Yes?” 

“How?” 

“I don’t know,” Genya said; feeling even more lost. “I just never do, so it just... yeah.” 

The snake pillar shook his head vehemently. “No, that’s not an answer Shinazugawa. Focus, how did you feel while dying?” 

“I already told you,” Genya hissed; momentarily forgetting he was talking to a pillar. “I don’t know.” 

Sighing, Iguro-san clicked his tongue. “You kids are hopeless,” he muttered and quickly raised a hand to silence whatever protest he most have assumed Genya would make. “Let’s change the question.” 

Scowling now, Genya only shrugged. “Sure.” 

“How do you heal yourself? How do you know when your ability is going to kick in to save your life? Do you do it consciously?” 

Genya who’d been just about to say something snide, paused. That... that was an interesting.... question. “I-” he said, frowning in concentration. “I pray?” 

“Pray?” 

He nodded. “Himejima-san taught me how to and it helps me concentrate and.... it calms me down, allows my powers to sort of,” he said waving his hands. “Bubble up?” 

Iguro-san hummed and silently urged him on to continue, and Genya did, albeit while being confused as to why any of this was relevant at the same time.  

“I can feel the stitching,” he said slowly. He’d never talked about any of this before, not in this much detail. It was strangely daunting. “When I pray I... it’s like something wakes up,” he said; pressing a hand where his heart would be. “right here. And it stops the bleeding and dulls the pain and... I don’t know, it just heals me.” 

Iguro-san's eyes flashed and.... was that a smile? Genya blinked. He couldn’t really tell, not with the bandages and everything, but Iguro-san's eyes crinkled at the corners and there was something almost gentle, kind about his gaze and... wow.... he was smiling. He really was! 

“Perhaps your breath ability follows a similar pattern,” he said, elbows now resting on his knees and hands pillowing his chin. “I think you need to suppress your automatic demon powers in order to awaken the other.” 

Now starting to get what Iguro-san was implying, Genya felt slightly more intrigued. “I...” he said; nose scrunching up. “How do I know that I’ve suppressed my abilities? How can I tell? It’s not like my prayers actually control my ability, they just focus it more.” 

“You need to stop your healing factor,” The snake pillar replied. “And the only way you will know that you’ve managed it is if you can cut yourself and not heal.” 

“Does that mean?” 

Iguro-san nodded. “I think for your breath ability to kick in, you have to make yourself mortal again. Since right now,” he said. “Your immortal power is silencing it. When you get the same feeling as you do for your healing, but it’s not focused on saving your life, I think that’s going to be the time in which your ability will awaken.” 

Stunned, Genya managed to only stare at the other man in disbelief. “How do you know all this?” he asked. “That couldn’t have all been a guess, right?” 

Shrugging, Iguro-san turned away again. “I... the flame pillar before Kyo... the previous flame pillar, I stayed with him before becoming a demon slayer, his books were rather interesting.” 

“So what you’re saying is-” 

Reaching out all of a sudden, Iguro-san grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand closer. 

“What the-” Genya started, but a look from the snake pillar made him shut up. Those mismatched eyes were almost as intimidating as Sanemi’s gaze. 

“I’m going to cut open your finger,” Iguro-san said; blade now in his other hand. “Try not to heal.” 

That was... he... Genya couldn’t say he wasn’t interested to find out, so with only the briefest of hesitations, he nodded. “Do it.” 

When the edge of the blade cut into his hand, he winced, but the pain was something he’d become all too familiar with these past couple of months, so outside of that small reaction, Genya made no indication as to how the cut affected him; despite how deep it looked, practically cutting his finger clean off.  

It took less than a minute; despite how hard Genya had tried to force his ability down, for the healing to kick in, and they both watched his wound in fascination as slowly the blood flow stopped, the flesh knitted itself back together and the nerves reconnected before the skin smoothed over. Twenty seconds later, and Genya was moving his finger up and down, good as new. 

“How did it feel,” Iguro-san asked after a minute, observing his hand carefully. “When you tried to stop yourself from healing?” 

Genya frowned. “It felt like nothing? Maybe a little weird? But... I’m not sure.” Iguro-san hummed.  

“Keep working on it.” 

Staring down at his hand, Genya furrowed his eyebrows. He had a place to start now, somewhere to go from, a direction. Curling and uncurling his fingers, he looked up and met Iguro-san's eyes. “Thank you.” 

The snake pillar shrugged. “If you’re going to do something reckless, it’s best to know where to start.” 

Genya snorted. “I guess so.” 

Standing up, the snake pillar brushed himself off, before nodding down at him. “Get up. I want to see how good you are.” Returning the gesture after a second of hesitation, Genya rose to his feet, ready to get some practice in while the new information was still refresh in his mind and that’s how Himejima-san and Zenitsu found them. 

With Genya ironically in the same position that he’d been furious about only an hour ago; sweat soaking through his hair and arms shaking with barely there strength. “Five hundred more,” Iguro-san called out to him where he was polishing his sword as he watched him go through an unnatural number of pushups.  

“Got it,” Genya gasped, forcing himself through another ten.  

“Don’t forget to regulate your breathing Shinazugawa and concentrate on-” The sudden pause in the snake pillar’s words made Genya look up, and- 

“Oh,” he said, blinking the sweat out of his eyes. “Himejima-san, Zenitsu.” 

The sheer amusement framing Himejima-san's face was almost insulting. “You seem to have taken a liking to Iguro’s training?” he said, words tilting down with a sliver of humour.  

Genya snorted. “Whatever.” 

No one disturbs him after that, Zenitsu only giving him a bewildered look before he scurried over to Himjima-san to help set up for dinner, and Iguro-san doesn’t say anything until he finishes the last five hundred pushups, and only then, after Genya has well and thoroughly collapsed on the ground does he come and crouch down next to him. “Here,” he said, waving a blue notebook over his eyes. “Shinjuro Rengoku gave this to me. I wasn’t the fastest breath user either, so it helped.”  

Staring up at the old roughed up book, Genya’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “You were a slow learner?” 

Iguro-san shrugged. “I suppose. It helped to fully understand the details of the basics and the history behind every breath. Perhaps in here,” he said, patting the book lightly. “You’ll find the one best suited for you.” 

----------- 

When Zenitsu eventually finds him sitting alone by the riverside; battered book in hand, Genya still doesn’t know how to wrap his head around what Iguro-san had just done for him. 

This book clearly meant something to the snake pillar. From the way it looked from the way Iguro-san spoke of it.... and he’d given it to  him . 

Clutching the fragile leather even tighter, Genya continued to stare at it, fingers gently running over the cover, silent disbelief painting his face. 

“So, you trained with Obanai-senpai!” 

Zenitsu drops down next to him, one hand holding out a sandwich while in the other he was already tearing into his own. Muttering a soft thanks, Genya grabbed for the meal and ended up kicking out at his friend when he tried to hold it out of reach. 

“Ouch,” the blonde huffed, rubbing his wounded leg as Genya; with a satisfied smile, bit into his sandwich. “It was a joke.” 

“Never,” Genya said through a mouthful of chicken. “Get in between a man and his food.” 

“Whatever.” 

Nothing is said between them for a while. Zenitsu content in eating his dinner and Genya too busy sorting through the clutter in his mind to actually come up with something interesting to say. But eventually- 

“Hey Zen,” he said; food long gone and both of them laying down on the grass watching the sun set. “What did you mean when you said you were cursed?” 

He could practically feel the other teen stiffen next to him. Zenitsu huffed out a loud breath before fully settling down next to him. “I don’t know what you mean.” 

“You said you were sorry for being cursed back in the clearing when I got,” he said, running his hand across his waist. “You know cut in half.” 

Zenitsu remained quiet, and the silence persistent just to the point of Genya wanting to take it all back, when the blonde finally sighed. “It wasn’t real or anything,” he began slowly, Genya catching him picking at the grass from the corner of his eye. “It’s just ever since I was little, I don’t think my parents wanted me and people just.... and then my whole village and gramps and Kaigaku-senpai they all.... and suddenly you were – and I just thought that maybe all these things,” he said reaching out to cover the sun with his hand. “Maybe these things were happening because of me.” 

“Then I think I’m cursed too,” Genya whispered, making his friend pop up into his peripheral vision with a look of surprise. 

“What do you mean?” 

Genya shrugged. “My dad was shitty and my mom became a demon and killed all my siblings and then my brother killed my mother and left me to become a demon slayer.” 

Zenitsu blinked. “Oh, wow.” Genya snorted. 

“Yeah.” 

Plopping back down on the grass again; a heavy sigh brimmed past his lips. Zenitsu bumped him gently on the shoulder. “Our lives suck.” 

------ 

An hour later, and they are on the move again. This time Himejima-san and Iguro-san leading the way; making quick work off the demons, and both teens making up the rear end. Watching as the pillar’s effortlessly drive through the demons as if they were nothing.   

Halfway through the next day, and they are already closer to their destination than they would have been if it had only been Zenitsu and Genya. The pillars were truly impressive and.... scary. 

The minute they slow down to rest, Iguro-san picks Zenitsu’s training back up again, and while Genya has come to understand the pillar a little bit better now, it’s still grinds on his nerves to see his friend being treated like this way, so after a while of barely being able to control his anger, Genya found himself stepping in between them before he could even think. 

“He’s already tired,” he said loudly, coming to a stop in front of Zenitsu. “Can’t you give him a break or something?” 

“Out of the way Shinazugawa. This is not about you.” 

“it’s not about who it is about,” Genya exploded. “Zenitsu cares about your opinion so he isn’t going to tell you when he can’t go on anymore. So just give him a break!” 

Iguro-san glared, Genya glared back. They stood like that for what felt like hours, and then surprising everyone, the snake pillar actually nodded, waving Zenitsu away. 

Stunned, Genya just stood there, staring. 

“Well,” Iguro-san said as the blonde disappeared out of view. “Himejima-san is scouting up ahead, so your training rests with me now, get to work.” 

Genya sighed. 

He should have known. 

No way Iguro-san would have relented that easily without having something up his sleeve.  

------------ 

Three hours later and Genya is cursing anything yellow and vowing to himself that he would never ever step in for Zenitsu ever again. Still, just this once, he’s glad he did. It had taken all the courage in the world, but halfway through the rigorous training, Genya had mustered up all the bravado he had left in him and asked the snake pillar point blank why he was so cruel to Zenitsu all the time. 

Safe to say the response he got was not pleasant, but Iguro-san was surprisngly easy to talk to. With Sanemi as an example, Genya was pretty sure he could navigate Iguro-san's moods a lot easier than Zenitsu. 

Sure the snake pillar hadn’t taken too kindly to his accusations, but it was obvious, after Genya had laid out the situation, that Iguro-san had never really thought about it that way. He hadn’t gotten the answer he wanted form the pillar, but by the quiet sort of contemplation the man had been sporting ever since the conversation, Genya hoped that maybe something that he’d said had somehow gotten through to him. 

He’s just about halfway through his letter to Sanemi, when Zenitsu finds him again. 

“What are you doing,” his friend asked, throwing himself dramatically over his shoulder, which made Genya shift his weight so the other lost his balance and hit the ground. “You’re always so mean,” Zenitsu whined, but Genya only laughed at him and put the letter away.  

“Was just writing to Sanemi. You?” 

The blonde shrugged. “Playing with Kaburamaru-san.” 

Genya hummed. Turning away from Zenitsu, clearly thinking the conversation was over, but a light tap on his shoulder made him focus on the other again. 

“I wanted to talk to you about something,” the blonde said; voice careful and eyes searching. Genya raised a brow.  

“Yeah?” 

Zenitsu nodded. “You seem better... now? So I’m not sure if I should bring it up or not but.... you’re not a monster,” he blurted out. “You’re not a monster for having those num num powers, you know that right?” 

Genya stared and Zenitsu stared back.  

What in the hell..... 

Snorting, Genya slapped a hand over his mouth and looked away; shoulders shaking with repressed laughter. 

“Hey,” Zenitsu whined bumping his shoulder into him harshly. “Don’t be like that. I was worried about you!” 

“I know,” Genya said; wiping away and tear and forcefully trying to push down the laughter. “I know, I’m sorry. It’s just-” 

And with that he descended into another fit of laughter.  

“For God’s sake,” Zenitsu muttered, slapping him upside the head. “See if I worry about you ever again.” 

When Genya had yet to stop himself from rolling around on the ground laughing, Zenitsu had enough, and soon enough the both of them were wresting each other with everything they got. 

---------- 

“You’re insane,” Genya breathed; chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. 

“Me?” Zenitsu screeched, looking just as disheveled and bruised up as him. “I’m insane? You’re the one who dropped us of a freaking cliff!” 

“A hill,” Genya said, raising a finger. “It was a hill.” 

“Who cares what it was!” 

------- 

Himejima-san and Iguro-san chose to ignore their appearance when they eventually did join their teachers, only a vague look of mild interest on Himejima-san's part and a scoff of annoyance on Iguro-san's. 

Somehow that made it almost worst. 

Who knew when the second shoe would drop? 

It didn’t help that they had to make their way through the forest in their dirty cloths either as neither pillar so much as looked at them when Zenitsu had loudly asked if they could go change. 

So now, running side by side through the dark twisting forest with Zen complaining or more like whining into his ear the whole time, Genya briefly contemplated killing himself. 

Death couldn’t be worse than this, right?  

------------ 

There is only a half a day distance between them and the village when they take their next break; Genya and Zenitsu finally able to find the time to wash up properly. Sighing in relief, the black-haired teen threw on his last clean clothes and stretched out his arms. “Finally,” he muttered to himself, throwing himself on the dry grass and waiting on Zenitsu to be finished.  

When his friend eventually came over, Genya raised a hand to stop him. “Do anything stupid,” he said. “I dare you.” 

All he was met with was a snort before the blonde gracelessly dropped down next to him. 

“We’re almost out of here,” Zenitsu said, looking at him and smiling slightly. “It’s crazy that we’ve only known each other for less than a week huh?” 

Genya blinked. “Yeah.” 

“I mean,” Zenitsu continued; staring off into the forest. “It feels like forever ago and-” 

“Hey Zen.” 

His friend looked at him. “Yeah?” 

Genya tore away his gaze and stared down at his feet. 

Why was this so hard? Chewing on his bottom lip, he sighed. “I need to tell you something.” 

“What?” 

“Remember,” he started slowly, picking at his nails. “Back in the cave. The first day we met?” 

Zenitsu nodded. “Yeah, sure I do.” 

Nodding as well, Genya swallowed. “You did something while you were asleep.” 

“What did I do?” Now the blonde was clearly intrigued. Genya sighed.  

“You were talking in your sleep and... you... you kept screaming traitor and-” 

“Traitor?” The confusion was pretty evident in Zenitsu’s voice, but Genya only nodded trying his hardest to stay on track. 

Maybe Zenitsu knew about all of this, maybe it wouldn’t be a problem? 

“Yeah and you mentioned your grandfather and you kept saying to let him go and then you said you would kill your  Senpai?  Or someone killed him, I don’t really know, it was all kind of confusing... and then you burst into lightning and-” 

His words faltered, for right next to him, almost as if it was an echo of that night, Zenitsu’s frame burst into fizzling electricity and it was all Genya could do to get out of the way before he got caught in the storm. 

“Zenitsu,” he shouted; shielding his eyes, “stop!” But his friend looked so panicked he wasn’t even aware of him any longer, blind white gaze only focused on his own shaking fingers. 

“Senpai....” the blonde was whispering. “Kaigaku-senpai.... I don’t, I don’t understand, he... I...” Eyes snapping up, his blank white gaze connected with Genya and he faltered. 

“I don’t remember what happened that day?” he whispered. “Something is wrong with my head. I think Kaigaku....” and with that the electricity died down and Zenitsu pitched forward, Genya being just in time to catch him before he face planted. 

“Something is wrong with me Genya,” Zenitsu muttered into his shirt. “Something is wrong with my memories. I just can’t -- I can’t remember correctly.” 

Genya didn’t know what to say, didn’t know what to think, so he patted him on the back and muttered that it would be ok. It would work itself out somehow. 

It would be ok. 

---------- 

“I suppose it’s time to part ways,” Himejima-san said; hand coming up to shake Iguro-san's own as they all stood at the gate of the small village at the edge of the mountain. “Do take care of yourself Iguro.” 

The snake pillar nodded. “You as well Himejima-san.” 

Genya couldn’t move, couldn’t think. It was all over now. Their journey had come to an end and he wasn’t going to see Zenitsu again, not for a long long time. And Himejima-san was also on his way out. He swallowed. 

Zenitsu wasn’t doing so good either. Whatever he’d told him seemed to have shaken him up a fair deal, and Genya was almost regretting that he’d told him. But Zenitsu had said he was grateful afterwards; eyes wide and face pale as snow, but he’d been grateful, so.... Maybe it would all work itself out in the end. 

‘The haunted look in Zenitsu’s eyes says otherwise,’  the nasty voice in his head piped up and Genya flinched. 

No. Shaking his head, his gaze landed on the downtrodden frame of Zenitsu. No, he had to believe it was all going to work out. 

But for now,  

He stepped forward; hand raised towards his first ever friend. 

It was time to say goodbye. 

Chapter Text

Sorry Everyone!

I really hate doing this. A chapter dedicated to something the author wants to say is something I avoid at all costs, because it gives falls hope for updates and (as a reader myself) it disappoints me too when I see it from my favorite authors. But I didn't know another way to make you all aware of this, so sorry :(

Anyways, what I wanted to say is that I have unfortunately lost my writer's notebook. Specifically the notebook in which I had every piece of this story outline in great detail way in advance (just so that I always knew where I was going with this story) even if it took me a while to update. But now I can't find it and I'm not sure I can update this story until I do. Simply because I'm afraid to deviate from the plot too much and risk being inconsistent in the future. I'm really really sorry everyone, but until I find it, I guess this story will be on hold. 

Not to worry too much however, because (it's been a couple of days) but I'm still looking and retracing my steps. So hopefully it turns up very soon and I'll write and update as soon as possible. Who knows, could show up eventually I guess. But for now, I just wanted to let you know since it wouldn't be fair of me to keep you waiting indefinitely. If it really comes down to me not finding it at all though, I might have to rewrite and rework the plot from here on out, but I rather avoid that all together.

Thank you all for your patience and I'm again, really really sorry.

Chapter Text

Staring down at the offered hand reaching out towards him, Zenitsu blinked slowly.  

It was time to part ways. Genya and Himejima-san.... they would leave and- 

Raising his own hand, Zenitsu stared at it; curling and uncurling his fingers as his mind temporary went blank. 

Then without thinking, he slapped away Genya’s hand and before the other teen could finish spluttering, flung himself around his neck. “Goodbye,” he said; faced pressed into the crook of Genya’s collarbone, eyes watering. “I’m going to miss you.” 

The tension that had been wiring Genya’s frame, slowly melted away and his friend hesitantly at first, but soon enough brought his arms to circle around his waist and hugged him just as tight. “Goodbye Zen.” 

The blonde held on for just a little bit longer, fingers locked around his friend’s neck and lips quivering where he hid them, pressed up against Genya’s shoulder, but eventually his breath evened out, his eyes blinked away the tears and his mouth stilled. He wouldn’t cry today. 

Slowly his arms unfolded and reluctantly he took a step back, putting distance between them. It was only when his eyes met Genya’s that he finally let himself smile. For the other’s gaze was calm, but the sadness in them was almost a mirror image of his own. “I’ll see you during the final selection,” Zenitsu said; the ease with which the words came silently surprising him. “You better be there.” 

Genya huffed. Eyes slightly red but lips pulling back to show teeth. “I bet I’ll master my breath style before you do.” 

“You don’t even know what yours is yet,” Zenitsu fired back, chest puffed out and eyes narrowing. Genya only grinned.  

“Says a lot about you doesn’t it?” 

Only the sudden grip around his shoulder prevents Zenitsu from jumping the other boy in indignant anger. Tracing the restricting arm up to Obanai-senpai's face, Zenitsu wrinkled his nose when it became obvious his senpai wouldn’t let him tussle around with Genya this time. “Whatever,” he said as he puffed out his chest. “See if I’ll ever save you the next time you’re in trouble!” 

Genya couldn’t have looked more unimpressed if he tried. “I saved you remember,” he said, finger pointing back and forth between them. “You just avenged what you thought was my dead body,” a single arched eyebrow. “Very impressive,” he said, dragging the words out in such a way that he knew from experience would get under Zenitsu’s skin. “Someone give this boy a medal!” 

“Why you little-” Zenitsu started, taking a step forward, but Obanai-senpai forcefully pulled him back.  

“Enough,” the older man said; pushing past him to shake Genya’s hand, snapping his fingers to get the slightly whiplashed teen to pay attention when it became clear that the sudden change in topic had taken him for a ride. Apologizing quickly, Genya took Obanai-senpai's hand between two of his own and shook it twice before letting go. 

“Sorry,” he said; somehow managing to look ashamed. “Take care Iguro-san.” 

Obanai-senpai only nodded. “You as well.” And with that he turned around and stalked towards the gate, briefly nodding at Himejima-san as he passed him along the way. Zenitsu quickly scrambled after him, eyes meeting Genya one last time before he ducked under Himejima-san's outstretched arm and curled himself around the older man.  

“Thanks for everything Himejima-san,” he muttered into his chest. “And what you said.... you know – those things... that advice... I’ll keep it in mind.” 

A gentle hand came to rest atop of his head and the low hum that came from the demon slayer sounded strangely comforting to Zenitsu’s ear. “Take care of yourself Agatsuma,” Himejima-san said; arm finally dropping to his side. “And take care of Obanai for us.” 

Nodding quickly as to avoid saying anything, a painful lump in his throat, Zenitsu extracted himself from Himejima-san's giant frame and twisted around to follow his senpai.  

He didn’t look back at Genya as he walked away. 

And Genya didn’t call him back.  

Zenitsu’s shoulders set.  

Chin lifting slightly, he briefly raised his arm as a silent goodbye, the gates falling shut behind him.‘It’s ok,’ he thought.  

They would meet again and when they did, Zenitsu would be a demon slayer worthy of his gramps legacy.  

---------- 

Breathing in deeply, Zenitsu allowed the tension in his muscles to break down and his eyes slowly scanned the tiny village with what amounted to be light interest. Stuck on the side of a mountain, the very architecture of the place was tilted and the ground albeit rough looked as if great care had been taken to make it livable. None on that really fascinated the blonde. 

 It was the sheer magnitude of colors that caught Zenitsu’s eyes. 

Every house was painted with different vibrant color of the rainbow and what would have looked like a mess anywhere else had somehow managed to fit together in a series of patterned orange, yellow and red to pale blue, green and soft purple.  

“Wow,” he muttered, mouth falling open as he unconsciously spun around to take in everything. “This is incredible.” 

“Agatsuma.” 

“Hm,” he said; gaze still fixated on the bright rooftops. 

“Agatsuma.” 

“Yeah.....” How had they managed to keep the colors so vibrate but still beautiful enough not to look like a mismatched mess? 

“Oi, brat!” 

A sharp flick to the forehead made him wince in pain and finally meet the narrow gaze of Iguro. “Ouch,” he muttered, rubbing at the spot. “What did you do that for?” A silent glare was his answer. 

“Let’s go brat. We need to get to Yui-sama before she closes up shop.” 

“Of course,” Zenitsu said, scurrying after the pillar’s hurried steps. But even as they weaved their way through the crowded streets, Zenitsu couldn’t help but let his eyes wander to the beautiful architecture of the village and the milling, muttering and laughter of the people. He was at some point so distracted he didn’t notice Obanai coming to a stop and promptly crashed into him. 

The snake pillar didn’t take it well. “Agatsuma,” he hissed, fingers coming up threateningly. Zenitsu backed away from him in a flash. “Quit your nonsense and keep an eye on your surroundings.” 

Blinking, Zenitsu nodded. “Yeah, sure... yeah. I’m sorry. It’s just-” Looking down, he twisted his hands and swallowed. 

Everything here was so nice. The noise, the crowd, the colors.... it wasn’t exactly like home.... nothing could ever be like home, but-  

“I haven’t been to a village since....” he smiled slightly; a tiny ghost of a smile. Nostalgia washing over him. “It’s just a little overwhelming and Genya and Himejima-san and... I just...” he shrugged. “Sorry. I’ll be careful.” 

Tilting his chin up, Zenitsu met Obanai’s mismatched eyes and something unreadable flashed through them too quick for the blonde to understand before blankness shrouded his senpai’s gaze once more. “Brat,” he said, voice pitching down almost in uncertainty; Kaburamaru hissed softly. “If you.... I understand if you....” 

Slowly his senpai’s eyes narrowed as if whatever he was trying to say wasn’t coming out the way he wanted to. Kaburamaru bumped his head against his cheek, and the snake pillar took a deep breath. “Look,” he said, eyes flittering this way and that, and..... 

Zenitsu blinked in wonderment. Never had he ever seen his senpai look so unsure.  

“Shinazugawa clearly had an impact on you... and....” Massaging his brows, Obanai-senpai sighed in frustration before he shook his head. “Never mind,” he said curtly. “Just don’t fall behind.” With that he spun around, ignoring the displeased hissing coming from Kaburamaru and marched through the crowd with a renewed vigor. 

Zenitsu just stared after him in confusion before snapping out of it and rushing after his senpai. “Wait, senpai.” He said, jostling his way through the masses of bodies. “Wait senpai! I didn’t understand what you were trying to say! Senpai!” 

------------- 

The little secluded hut they came to a stop in front of was less than impressive.  

Zenitsu stared. “Is this it?” 

Obanai-senpai didn’t even look at him. “Yes,” he said, raising a fist to knock on the door. “This is it.” 

“But, but... it’s so small,” Zenitsu said, still unable to comprehend how this tiny house could hold the answers to whatever his senpai had deemed important.  

“I’ve noticed Agatsuma.” 

“But-” 

The snake pillar knocked twice and raised a finger to silence Zenitsu. “Shut up kid.” 

The blonde was not about to do that, but he doesn’t have a chance to speak up before the door is swinging open and the most beautiful woman Zenitsu had ever seen peeks her head through the gap. 

Shiny black curls drape over her shoulder were her body is mostly hiding behind the shadows of her house and narrow catlike eyes are staring back at them with intrigue from an almost too lovely of a heart-shaped face. But it was those full crimson red lips grinning wolfishly at Obanai-senpai that took Zenitsu’s breath away. 

“Close your mouth brat. You look pathetic.” 

His eyes snapped to his senpai in indignation. “I wasn’t doing anything,” he said; arms crossing defensively over his chest. “I can’t help finding a beautiful woman, beautiful!” 

The pearly melodic laughter that burst out past the woman's lips made Zenitsu flush with happiness. Iguro just sighed. “Hopeless,” he muttered loud enough to be heard before he turned back to look at the woman and his tone shifted. “Yui-sama,” he said inclining his head down slightly. “It is good to see you again.” 

Yui-sama who’d fully stepped out from behind the door now; managing to stun Zenitsu even more by her sheer elegance and gorgeousness, only reached out to place a pale hand against the snake pillar’s cheek. 

“It’s good to see you as well Obanai.” 

Her lips curled into more of a gentle smile and her head tilted to the side, eyebrows furrowing. “You haven’t relapsed,” she asked, concern edging her words. “Have you?” 

Obanai-senpai shook his head mildly, hand coming up to cover Yui-sama's. Squeezing her fingers between his own, before he pushed her away carefully and finally dropped her hand all together when her expression smoothed into a careful blankness. “Good,” she said. “That’s good. How is Shinjuro? Treating you well I hope.” 

Snorting, Obanai pushed past her, waving to Zenitsu absentmindedly to follow him. “I haven’t spoken to him in a while. But I’m sure Kyo is taking care of him like always.” 

The taller woman hummed; mild curiosity still weaving in her eyes as she finally turned around to look at Zenitsu who immediately flushed at the attention. 

She grinned. “And who might you be little one?” 

By now Obanai had fully disappeared from their sight and it was only Zenitsu and Yui-sama lingering by the entrance of the small hut. “Zenitsu,” he stammered; almost in disbelief that this beautiful woman was even talking to him. “Agatsuma Zenitsu.” 

“Well then, A.gat.su.ma,” she said, dragging out the words with a little singsong spin to them. Zenitsu’s heart almost burst. “Why don’t you come in.” 

Nodding frantically, unable to meet her glinting green eyes, he scurried past her and- 

“What the-” he started, jaw actually dropping this time because- 

The little hut. The little dirty house on the furthers corner of this tiny village, it was.... it was huge! It was as if he’d walked back out into another town because... Wide eyed he stared up at the open sky above. Stared at the grassland on the floor below them, at the golden railing of the spiraling stairs descending down into the forest. How could all this exist in a little hut!  

Running up to the railing, Zenitsu tilted his head up to look at the bridge connecting what looked to be half of the third floor with the other half of the same floor raised on a floating platform on the other side.  

Try as he might, nothing of this set up made any sense to Zenitsu. Nothing at all. How was any of this possible! 

“I...” he spluttered, spinning around to meet the amused gaze of Yui-sama. “How?” 

Grinning widely, she curtsied playfully. “It’s an artform,” she said. 

“Don’t let it overwhelm you Agatsuma,” Obanai-senpai said from beside him, almost making him startle. “It’s only a bit of illusion magic. Nothing fancy.” 

Frowning at the pillar, Yui-sama waved her hand with a sigh. “Take all the fun out of it why don’t you.” 

As soon as she moved her fingers, it was as if the house... mansion.... hut? Exhaled and suddenly the walls melted together right in front of Zenitsu’s eyes, the floor below them shimmered, and in less than a second they were all standing in a dark hut that was only illuminated by the candle lights spread around the small tables. 

“Oh,” Zenitsu said. 

“Yeah,” Yui-sama nodded. “Just a bit of illusion. So,” she tilted her head eyes flickering between the both of them, the childlike tone from before nowhere to be found behind the steel in her voice now. “What brings you here of all places Iguro Obanai. I thought you said you never wanted to see my face again.” 

Obanai-senpai shifted next to him. If Zenitsu could hazard a wild guess, he might have even thought his senpai was nervous. “I need your help,” Iguro finally said. “I wouldn’t be here if I had any other choice.” 

Red lips pulled down into a displeased frown. “Of course.” 

------------ 

“I see.” 

Yui-sama was busying herself making tea in the tightly fit kitchen by the corner while Zenitsu had taken a seat on the only couch available in the house. Legs pressed against his chest and chin propped on his knees he watched carefully as Obanai-senpai talked through his concerns with the strange lady. 

“So you’re saying,” Yui-sama started; lifting the kettle carefully and pouring the content into three different colored mugs. “That your ward isn’t able to access his breath style unless he’s unconscious?” 

Obanai-senpai nodded. “I thought I could work around it, but at this point I have a feeling that it’ll prevent him from reaching his full potential unless we figure out why this is happening to him in the first place.” 

“So you brought him to me so that I could what?” The tall woman said cocking her head to the side. “Meddle with his mind?” 

Scrunching up his nose, Iguro kicked her foot lightly. “You know very well that you are capable of more than that.” 

Smiling once more, Yui-sama picked up two of the cups; leaving the last one for Obanai before she made her way over to Zenitsu. “Glad you still remember.” 

Obanai-senpai scoffed. “How could I ever forget.” 

Her back was turned towards the snake pillar so he didn’t see, but Zenitsu who had a clear view of her face caught the genuine smile that flashed briefly across Yui-sama's lips before it just as quickly faded as she handed Zenitsu his mug and dropped down on the arm chair squeezed in between the shelves. Zenitsu blinked down at the steaming tea and wondered fleetingly if Obanai-senpai was even aware of how much this strange woman cared about him and his opinions of her.  

“Well,” Yui-sama said, interrupting his thoughts. “I think I can help you Obanai. But you remember, a favor for a price, so what are you willing to give up?” 

Arching a brow, the snake pillar patted Kaburamaru’s head gently as he stared the woman down. “I’ll take care of the bandits prowling around the village. Is that good enough for you?” 

A flash of white teeth and she nodded. “It’s a deal then.” Gulping down the piping hot tea in three mouthfuls, she abruptly stood up and shuffled her way to the back of the room opening a wooden door. “Best we get started quickly before we run out of day light.” She called over her shoulder. “Strip for me boy!” 

“What,” Zenitsu spluttered; body burning up with sheer embarrassment. 

“Not like that you idiot,” Obanai-senpai huffed; actual mirth leaking through his voice this time. “She’ll need to paint some of the symbols on your back as well, so you need to take of your clothes waist up kid.” 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah, oh.” Putting the untouched tea aside, Obanai-senpai snapped his fingers. “Hurry it up brat. We don’t have all day.” 

“Yeah yeah,” Zenitsu said taking another sip of his pleasantly sweet tea before finally standing up and carefully pulling off his haori before starting on his shirt. By the time he was done, Yui-sama was back holding a handful of bottles and a paint brush between her teeth. 

Obanai-senpai stepped forward to help her, but a quick shaking of her head made him pause. “You got this,” he asked and receiving a single nod in return, he turned away to face Zenitsu again. “I’ll need to go find us a place to stay while you do this, so behave yourself and do as you’re told.” 

“A place to stay?” Zenitsu asked; fingers stilling on his fourth button. “Are we not leaving after we’re done here?” 

The snake pillar shook his head. “A deal is a deal Agatsuma. I need to take care of those bandits stealing from the village and until I’ve done so, we’re staying.” 

Nodding in understanding, Zenitsu finally managed to get both shirts off before he locked eyes with his mentor again. “You’re coming back, though right? I mean...” he muttered, waving his arms around. “After you find a place.... so.... Not that you’ll leave me behind or anything, I just...” 

“Yes Agatsuma,” Obanai-senpai interrupted him. “I’ll come back for you.” A pause. “I promise.” 

A tentative smile blossomed on Zenitsu’s lips. A sort of dread that had unconsciously been building in his heart slowly subsiding into a lone whisper. “That’s good,” he nodded to himself. “Yeah, that’s good.” 

Obanai nodded. And then he was gone.  

“Well,” Yui-sama said, bottles all strewn around the floor and paintbrush tucked behind her ear. “Shall we get started?” 

Chapter Text

Tearing his eyes from the open door, Zenitsu nodded. “Yeah,” he said, feeling his cheeks flush. “Sure. What do you want me to do?” 

“Nothing for now,” Yui-sama waved dismissively, crouching on the ground with two bottles in hand. “I need to mix these elixirs first before we can do anything. Why don’t you go in the kitchen and find yourself something to eat?” 

Zenitsu stared down at her lowered head before nodding. “I could eat,” he said, his stomach grumbling in answer. “Do you want anything?” 

She nodded absentmindedly, but did nothing else, and Zenitsu just shrugged. He was sure he could find something she liked in the kitchen. It was hers after all, no reason to believe anything in there was something she would hate, but just as he was about to sidestep her, Yui-sama shot up to her full height and blocked him with her arm. “Oi oi oi,” she said, eyes huge. “Stop! I almost forgot!” 

“Forgot what?” Zenitsu stumbled back and stared up at her, the crazed maniac look in her green eyes making him almost panic. “Forgot what Yui-sama!” He repeated. “Is Obanai-senpai in danger? Are the bandits secretly demons and-” 

The illusions paused momentarily in her panic and blinked confusedly down at him. “What, no,” she said, shaking her head. “What are you even talking about kiddo? Obanai is fine, I promise.” 

“Oh,” shoulders sagging, Zenitsu breathed out in relief. “Why did you stop me than like you were worried about something!” Throwing his hands in the air, he gripped his hair tight and tugged at the locks dramatically. “I almost had a panic attack!” 

Chortling in surprise, Yui covered her mouth with a delicate hand, eyes crinkling around the corners as she scrunched up her nose to prevent herself from laughing at him again. Zenitsu frowned at her as she was doing a rather poor job of it. “Then what is it then!” He finally exploded when it became obvious his senpai wasn’t in fact in any immediate danger going off how relaxed Yui-sama actually was now. 

“Oh nothing too serious,” she said casually patting him on the head as she turned back to her work. “Maybe I shouldn’t have shouted, I’m sorry about that.” Picking up one of the ancient books on the table, she filliped through it with a dent of concentration between her brows. “I just remembered – there,” she said, pointing at a tiny paragraph at the bottom of a page.  

“What?” Zenitsu asked, warily stepping closer. 

“It’s been such a long time since I last did this,” The illusionist said, pursing her lips and grinning at him sheepishly. “That I almost forgot eating before the Dreamwalk could make your stomach explode.” Here she mimicked an explosion going off with her free hand, sound effect and all, before she sent him a crooked albeit charming smile. “Would have had a difficult time explaining that one to Obanai that’s for sure! Hah!” 

Zenitsu blinked slowly. 

“Good that my old noggin is still working in tiptop shape,” she said, book snapping shut and eyes tracing the lines painted on the map she’d spread out across the floor. “So, no food for you I’m afraid!” 

Zenitsu stared. Mouth slightly agape and body as still as a statue. 

“Hey Agatsuma,” wiggling her fingers in his direction, the illusionist poured the content of one bottle into the other as she spoke. “Mind handing me that book back there behind you on the top shelf by the corner. It should be three books down or something,” glancing at him once, she looked away again. “Should be red I think.” 

Zenitsu had yet to move. 

“Agatsuma!” 

The blonde just continued to stare because...... 

Did she just say he could have died.... He’d survived his family’s death, he’d survived the demon attack, he’d survived in that death trap of a forest and now this woman was telling him that he could have died! Because she forgot to tell him that eating anything would make his stomach explode! 

What in the world was this place! 

“Agatsuma, can you hear me?” 

“I could have died,” he shrieked. “I could have died by eating something! How the hell could you forget something like that!” 

Yui-sama shrugged. “I told you, I haven’t performed this particular ritual in a very long time. Somethings are foggy for me sometimes.” 

“You just---” Zenitsu’s jaw twitched. “You just don’t forget something like that! How is that even possible!” 

“For God’s sake child,” Yui-sama said, sighing as if she was the one dealing with the unreasonable person here and not him. “It didn’t happen, you’re still alive, and we still have some work to do. Could you please stop screaming and help me? I’m sure Obanai wouldn’t appreciate you making a ruckus.” 

“A ruckus!” he screamed. Yui-sama gave him a look and promptly Zenitsu snapped his mouth shut with a click and shrunk back. “Fine,” he said; cheeks puffing out in a pout. “It’s not like you’re the first person to almost get me killed.” 

“No?” 

She sounded mildly curious. 

Zenitsu wrinkled his nose at her. “No.” 

She laughed. It was as pretty as always, and Zenitsu found his lips curving up without thinking.  “You’re an interesting one Agatsuma,” she said, pointing to the shelves behind him with a raised brow. “Very interesting indeed.” 

Glaring at the beautiful woman one last time, Zenitsu shuffled over to the shelf and picked up the book. Three books down.... red.‘There,’ he thought, pulling it out of the shelf and turning around to hand it over. 

“Thanks,” Yui-sama muttered, and that was that. Silence descended over the tiny hut once more, and Zenitsu found himself back in his spot; legs pulled to his chest and chin resting on his knees. He couldn’t quite see Yui-sama from where he sat aside from the top of her head, but Zenitsu still couldn’t look away. There was something almost.... otherworldly? Coming from the mysterious woman. Almost hauntingly dangerous, and the blonde found himself trying to automatically tune her out before he’d even thought about it. 

“You’re good for him you know.” 

“Huh?”  

Zenitsu was momentarily taken of guard, having not been paying much attention to anything but trying not to listen in on that wailing dark sound emitting from the illusionist. “What did you say?” 

“Obanai,” Yui-sama said; head popping up from behind the table.  “I think you’re good for him.” 

The blonde furrowed his brows. “What do you mean?” 

Shrugging, the smudged face of Yui-sama disappeared back behind the table and only her voice reached him this time. “He seems a lot happier than I remember him.” 

Zenitsu snorted before he could even think. “Obanai-senpai?” He asked incredulously. “Happy?” Just the thought of it was laughable. 

“Yeah,” the older woman said, not missing a beat. “He was.... different when I met him. Mellow, sad, he wasn’t happy.” 

Curiosity overtaking him, Zenitsu leaned forward. “How do you know Obanai-senpai?” 

Yui-sama smiled. “It’s a long story. A very sad story.” 

Frowning, Zenitsu scooted back and crossed his arms. “I should probably hear it from him then.” 

A snort. “Nah kid, that’s never going to happen.” 

“Why not?” 

Her eyes softened and her fingers stilled, Yui-sama had never looked so solemn to him before. “Some stories are harder to tell than others.” 

Zenitsu glared. “He told me about Akinari and what he did.” 

“Oh,” Mouth widening in surprise, the illusionist tilted her head. “He really does like you, doesn’t he.” 

It wasn’t framed like a question, but Zenitsu still felt like he should nod, so he did, sharply. Yui-sama grinned. 

“Well then,” she said. “I guess you can wait till he tells you, but Akinari is very different story than his past. Even Mitsuri-chan had to hear it from Shinjuro and there is no one in the world Obanai cares about more than Mitsuri.” Shrugging, she lined up the finally finished bottles and grimaced up at him. “Look kid, I wouldn’t tell you this if I knew Obanai didn’t want you to hear about it.” A pause. “He can’t talk about it, he can’t make himself talk about it, but.... if you’re going to travel with him,” Crossing her arms she rested her chin on the table. “You might as well know the truth. Just in case.... just.... Look, Mitsuri-chan is a pillar, she can’t be there for him all the time and he doesn’t.... Obanai needs someone kid.” Her eyes had suspiciously gone wet and Zenitsu suddenly felt like he couldn’t breathe anymore, because.... all this time, Obanai-senpai had been carrying him, hadn’t he? Helping him, protecting him and.... 

“There are very few who get him Agatsuma. And even fewer he lets passed his walls, so...” 

Swallowing past the strange lump in his throat, Zenitsu shook his head vigorously. “He’ll tell me when he can.” 

“He won’t!” Yui-sama exploded, momentarily losing her elegant composure and the desperation was oh so clear in her eyes, but... 

“He will,” Zenitsu snapped back. “When he feels ready!” 

“Oh my God,” throwing herself on the ground, Yui-sama hissed at him, sounding creepily similar to Kaburamaru for a second. “You really don’t know him, do you?” 

Zenitsu kept his mouth shut. Only glaring through the table as if his annoyance with her could burn right through the wood and sear into her skin.  

“Look Agatsuma,” She eventually said when it became obvious he wasn’t about to enter in a verbal spat with her. “Obanai is incapable of looking after himself. He doesn’t like himself you see and we,” she said raising a finger in the air and making a large circle. “Us.... me, you, Mitsuri-chan, Kyojuro, us....” we have to do the caring for him. Do you understand?” 

Zenitsu tensed. “I don’t--” The words died in his throat and his fists clenched around his pants. Because he did understand. Deep down, he’d always understood. He was just too busy being selfish, wasn’t it? 

What did he even know about Obanai-senpai? 

All this time.... all these months.... What did he even know? 

Sure his senpai had told him about Akinari and... 

‘But he only told me that because I was panicking. I was blaming myself. I was crumbling, so....’  

[You need to stop blaming yourself. It’s not your fault kid. It was never your fault] 

‘I was crumbling so Obanai-senpai took out a piece of his own trauma to build me back up. He...’  

Blinking back the sudden onslaught of tears, Zenitsu ducked his head. Anger, frustration and sadness burning through his soul. 

[I saw death Agatsuma] 

[You and me kid. You and me] 

“He only told me about Akinari because I was hurting, didn’t he?” The words come out as nothing more than a whisper, but Yui-sama still hears him, and from one breath to the next, a warm body is beside him and a warm hand comes to rest on the back of his neck. 

“I wouldn’t know,” she said, voice soft and hand gentle.  

“He lost gramps too.” For the first time the realization that Obanai-senpai, his Obanai-senpai had also lost someone important to him, that he’d lost his friend the same night Zenitsu had, and.... It was only... “He lost gramps too and I never even asked him if he was ok.” 

Gramps who wrote letters to Obanai-senpai about him, gramps who saved Obanai-senpai, gramps who avenged Obanai-senpai's friends. Gramps who died and left Obanai-senpai behind just like he left him. 

‘I never asked him if he was ok.’  

His senpai had been so busy saving him, but who was saving him in return? 

When they first met... Obanai-senpai had been hurt... 

‘And yet you didn’t ask,’  his mind hissed. 

When Obanai-senpai watched him grieve for his family, catatonic for three days.... he most have been grieving too. 

‘And yet I didn’t ask.’  

When he came to save him against the demon.... he’d been fighting for his life too, against a lower moon in fact. 

‘And yet I didn’t ask.’  

Obanai-senpai had to tell him about Akinari because.... because Zenitsu hadn’t asked. Hadn’t cared enough. 

He’d been so busy worrying, grieving, crying and pitying himself that.... he... Obanai-senpai had always felt untouchable... his hero.... his idol. 

Like gramps... 

Oh.... No hero was untouchable.  

Obanai-senpai.... was only human. Just one person, carrying the weight of the world on his own. 

His senpai. 

‘And yet I didn’t ask’  

“What happened,” he asked, face still buried in his knees, and voice eerily stilted. “How did you meet senpai?” 

He needed to know. Needed to help, because he wanted to be there for Obanai-senpai too. 

The soft fingers running through his hair stilled and an arm came to circle around his shoulders to pulled him close. 

“I met Obanai when he was just a kid,” Yui-sama started. Her warm breath brushed against his cheek and her hand came to curl around his own shaking fists. “He was so small and so so sad but more than anything he just looked really lonely.” Her thumb drew tiny patterns across his knuckles. “His family worshiped a demon you see, and Obanai was their sacrifice in exchange for luxury.” 

Chapter Text

“What do you mean?” Zenitsu asked her, still not having raised his head but the curiosity in his voice evident. Yui smiled.  

“Exactly that,” she said, fingers running through his blonde hair. “Obanai was a prisoner, a soon to be sacrificed one at that, but-” she continued, cutting off whatever question may have tumbled out of the confused kid, giving him a meaningful stare when he’d looked up ready to interrupt. “Obanai was fortunate....” here she paused and then grimaced. “In a way.... He was a fascination to the snake demon you see. She liked him, a lot. So she chose not to kill him as quickly as she would’ve done anyone else.” 

“I don’t understand.” 

The tiny child was still staring up at her; golden eyes wide with questions and face too pale to signify anything but fear and worry. Yui found her heart softening ever so by the innocence of this scarred boy.  

‘Forgive me Obanai,’ she thought; fingers stilling momentarily.‘I will have to break your trust once more.’  

“The demon didn’t want to kill Obanai,” she said slowly, the nightmarish image of a too small child curled up in Shinjuro’s arm flashing through her mind. “But it still wanted his blood, so....” Lifting a single hand, she ran a finger across her mouth, right to the edges of her cheeks. “So she cut his mouth open and watched him bleed into a bowl for her to drink.” 

“But,….” Zenitsu said; a greenish tint taking over his features. “But... that’s not possible, I saw him!” Pointing at his own face, the kid shook his head. “I saw his face under the bandages and he only has tiny scars around his lips. I know he does! I saw it!” 

Yui huffed. “You saw nothing child.” The blonde tried to shake his head again, but Yui grabbed his chin and stopped him. “When you first entered my home,” she said; staring him straight in the eyes. “What did you see?” 

“Wha-” 

She almost glared, almost. “What,” she asked, shaking Zenitsu’s chin back and forth. “Did you see, Agatsuma Zen.it.su.” The lilt of playfulness in her tone did exactly what it always did. 

The child flushed, and she grinned. Truly, Yui couldn’t help herself. Teasing him was fun. “Come now Agatsuma,” she said, voice taking on a more serious note. “Answer me now.” 

“I....” Obanai’s pupil swallowed, face still flushed. “I saw these trees and... floors and... it was huge,” he said; stumbling through his words but the same echo of awe earlier today still reflected in his eyes. “It was an illusion right?” 

Yui nodded. “It was. And so,” she said. “Is Obanai’s current lack of scars.” 

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Zenitsu exploded; the whole situation looking to be suddenly too overwhelming. “He has all these tiny scars on his lips,” he said, staring at her accusingly as he pointed at his own lips. “He has these bumps from....” He trailed off, but Yui understood. 

“From trying to sew his mouth shut,” she said. “Yes, I know.” 

“Then if he has those....” 

She shook her head sadly. “He didn’t want to see me again. We had a.... disagreement during that period. It’s little I could have done about those scars Agatsuma Zenitsu.” 

The child turned away from her, lips wobbling and eyes blinking rapidly as he sniffed. “I don’t understand,” he breathed, the frustration leaking through his voice. “Why can’t you just tell me!” 

“I am-” 

“No,” Zenitsu snapped, face sinking back into his knees. “You’re playing games with me, I don’t like it.” 

Yui stared at him, slightly shocked by his observation before she finally closed her mouth with a click and let the broadest of smiles pull her lips from ear to ear. “My my aren’t you the clever little one,” she said, patting him gently on the head when he was about to speak again. “Well then,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “I’ll tell you everything.” 

The child nodded. “Thank you.” 

“So,” Yui began, biting her lip to stop herself from derailing the conversation once more.  

‘I’m not very good at this, ’ she thought sheepishly.‘Thousands of years on this accursed land and I still cannot comprehend the value of a dialogue well spoken.’  

“The story of Obanai is a sad one,” she began again; green eyes locking on something far away and a memory of long ago. “He escaped his family and in return, the demon killed them. All of them.” 

“All.... of them?” Zenitsu looked sickly and Yui smiled at him in sympathy. 

“Yes,” she said. “It was Shinjuro Rengoku who saved him. Killing the demon and protecting him, healing him.” 

“Shinjuro Rengoku? Is he Rengoku-san's father?” 

Yui looked down at the child in surprise. “You’ve met Kyojuro?” 

Zenitsu shook his head. “No, but Obanai-senpai talks about him sometimes. Plus,” he grimaced, sticking out his tongue dramatically. “His card game is super hard! I still don’t understand how it’s supposed to go and Obanai-senpai doesn’t either, he just doesn’t wanna admit it!” 

Snorting, Yui bumped her shoulder against the kid and let out another undignified laughter. “Kid, you’re something else that’s for sure,” she said. “Now,” slapping him on the head she frowned at him playfully. “Don’t interrupt me again.” 

“But I didn’t-” 

“Shhhh.” 

Zenitsu glared, Yui smiled. 

“Shinjuro took him in.” 

The atmosphere quickly sobered down the minute the words left her mouth.  

“And Obanai trained with Kyojuro and Kyojuro grew to adore him.”  

Her heart softened at the memory.  

“Kyo finally had someone his own age who was just as driven, just as ambitious to fight and to become a demon slayer, so he practically adopted him as his brother. Senjuro liked him too. After Ruka’s.... after.... well,” She smiled sadly. “They all loved him with all their hearts. The Rengoku’s loved him and they were very kind to him. But it wasn’t enough.” 

“Why not?” 

Sighing, Yui ruffled her own hair and threw herself back against the couch. “Obanai didn’t get better. He was constantly fraught with nightmares, he was sick and his mouth, his face... he couldn’t look himself in the mirror anymore. Kyojurou gave him these bandages to cover them up, and he wore them, all the time.... wouldn’t even let anyone see him eat. For a time, it looked as if those bandages would serve as a shield against his past, but...” 

“But?” 

“Some traumas run deep Agatsuma. Too deep to even be healed by the warmest of hearts. He wasn’t eating anymore and soon, he was so sick, Shinjuro was sure he would die if nothing was done.” 

Agatsuma shifted away so he could look at her properly this time. “He brought him to you, didn’t he?” 

Yui nodded. 

“I’ve known the Rengoku family for many years,” she said, eyes crinkling at the corners as she smiled. “They have always been mine, so I was happy to help. Of course I was. But there was no simple way of doing so for Obanai....” 

“Wait a minute,” Zenitsu blurted out; eyes wide as dinner plates. “You knew Rengoku-san's family for years and you knew Obanai-senpai as a kid! How old are you!” 

She flicked him on the forehead, hard. 

“Ouch” 

Wiggling her finger back and forth, Yui clicked her tongue. “Don’t ask a lady her age Agatsuma.” 

“But-” 

“If you have to know,” she interrupted. “Know this.” The air suddenly shifted and Agatsuma’s quick intake of breath was all too audible to the Yui. “There are creatures far older than humans roaming this world Agatsuma Zenitsu.” 

“I know that,” the child said; brows furrowed in annoyance. “Demons exist.” 

Yui smiled. “They are an example I suppose..... Anyways,” she said; waving his gaping mouth away. “Another time and another story for that. What I was trying to say, was that We.... Shinjuro.... Shinjuro brought Obanai to me and asked me to fix him, but his mind was too wounded and his face too scarred. I couldn’t banish his nightmares without banishing the memories that built those nightmares as well.” 

“You mean....” 

Nodding, Yui almost curled into herself at the memory. “I messed with his head Agatsuma. Shinjuro begged me to save his life so I wiped his mind of it all. Of the deaths, of the horrors, of the guilt, and I left him with only the escape. But to do that, I also had to erase all that came after, so he forgot about Shinjuro and his family. He forgot about Kyojuro and Senjuro.” Plucking at her dress, she sighed. “To top it all off, I illusioned his scars away too. It was a delicate procedure and I had to connect that illusion to his mind. Make sure he never thought about it or noticed it and he didn’t.... never wore the bandages, never.... never remembered.” 

Blinking back the tears that were threatening to spill, Yui cleared her throat, peaking at the kid next to her who had no problem crying, eyes wide in horror and face alarmingly pale.  

“He knew of course,” she rushed to say, not liking the look on the kid’s face. “Obanai knew he’d forgotten something, how could he not. And I didn’t lie to him, he knew the deal we made, he’d agreed to it. So he knew, but he didn’t know family.... the kindness of family... true kindness because he didn’t remember. Family to Obanai was cursed chains tying him down to a cursed existence. ” 

Rubbing at her forehead, Yui took a deep breath, held it and slowly let it out. “Shinjuro left him a book. A book on breathing styles, I think. They had to stay away you see, because of the spell. They would have to live on without him, but Shinjuro left him with this one book and it’s that book that helped Obanai develop his style. And he grew and learned but.... nothing marginally decent last for very long in this world of ours.” Laughing bitterly, Yui shrugged. “The Akinari debacle happened and the new trauma with all that blood..... and the death and his friends....” she waved her arms around helplessly. “I couldn’t calculate for that. I couldn’t account for how much he would go through.... I couldn’t predict... so of course all the memories came flooding back.... at the worst time. He remembered it all... lying there, alone. He remembered.” 

“Oh no,” Zenitsu whispered. “He remembered after.... that’s why he....” She watched as the kid brought a finger to his lips and she nodded. 

“Yeah,” she said. “I think it broke him.” 

“Why didn’t you come and take it away!” Scrambling back from here, Agatsuma glared at her accusingly. “Why didn’t you..... he said he had.... he couldn’t take it and he had to leave demon slaying for a while and he.... why didn’t you just-” 

Yui shook her head. “We weren’t on a speaking term at that time. He didn’t want to see me. I offered but....” Smiling sadly, she looked down at her hands. “At least he got Kyojuro back. Shinjuro might have been lost by then but... he got Kyo back and even little Senjuro and... the sewn marks might never disappear... he might never fully recover, maybe Shinjuro and I stole that chance from him, but the sewn marks, they will stay but.... I’ve made sure the previous scars.... those ugly nightmarish scars will stay hidden even if he knows they are there, so long as I live...” she said; eyes narrowing. “He’ll never have to see them again.” 

Chapter Text

Sorry Everyone! This not an update unfortunately.

I don't like doing this, but it's the only way I felt like I could communicate with you guys. So here is the thing. I don't know when I'll update this fic and since the manga ended I had to rewrite a lot of things in the story outline so that took some fuel out of me, and made it really hard to get back into things. Still, this is probably one of the fics I've enjoyed writing the most and I would hate to stop writing it entirely.

So this is my suggestion. I will likely come back to write this fic somewhere around October because I plan to reread the mange in September. But I'm not 100 percent certain about this, so you may wait a while for absolute nothing. Or, I could make a second "update" and essentially tell you how the story was meant to go all along. Now, if you want the second suggestion I can do it pretty quick. By next week in fact, but if majority of people chose the first one, I will do my best (my very very best)  to get this fic back and running by the beginning of October.

I will go with majority vote on this (if anyone is even reading this fic anymore lol) 

So yeah. That's what I got.

Thoughts?

Chapter Text

"Are you ready?"

Zenitsu frowned, fingers twitching at his side. "Um," he said, giving himself a once over. The markings on his body were truly strange ones. He couldn't recognize any of the symbols despite how Yui-Sama had repeatedly told him how common most of them were. "I think so?"

Yui-Sama grinned. Face hovering over him where he lay. "Good," she said and then her hand came slamming down on his forehead, palm right between his eyebrows and fingers curling into his hair. "Let's get started then."

He didn't even have time to scream before he was falling.

"Relax," he could hear Yui-Sama say as he fell, shouts of alarm tearing from his throat. "I have only sent you into the depth of your own mind. Don't worry, I am linked to you, so there is no fear of you getting lost in there."

"I--" Zenitsu gasped, unsure if his words were even leaving his mouth as he frantically looked around the darkness surrounding him; wondering for how long he'd continue to fall, whether there was an end to it at all and if that end would be painful. "I can't see anything!"

A light chuckle echoing all around him. "Yes, I assume you can't."

The amusement in Yui-Sama's voice strangely enough managed to make him feel a little bit better if not along with it, highly embarrassed too at his own inability not to freak out. After all, if she thought everything would be fine and she was hundred years old or something, then it stood to reason that he had a pretty good chance at getting out of this unscathed and……. He clenched his fists tightly and swallowed tickly. Maybe he would finally get some answers.

Maybe when he finally woke up, he would be able to fight like everyone else. Like Obanai-Senpai and Genya and Himejima-san. Maybe he could finally be competent enough to…… He shut his eyes and forced himself to breathe.

Maybe.

Like that, he kept falling. Darkness surrounding him from all corners, his thoughts all that accompanied him along with Yui-Sama's calming voice and his fears clawing at his heart.

This could be his one chance at fixing what was wrong with him. To learn, to get better. With this, he could finally get mastery of his own powers and maybe…. Maybe make Obanai-Senpai proud.

So he kept falling. Determination growing the longer it took him to reach solid ground. "Don't worry," Yui-Sama had said when he'd asked her, worry growing that he might have to fall forever. "I'm meeting resistance so I'd say you'll be there soon enough."

When he eventually does meet ground, it was in a surprisingly gentle manner. His descent through the darkness slowed down to almost a crawl and in the next second, his feet touching sturdy emptiness and he was standing looking into more or less the same nothingness.

"What can you see?"

Yui-Sama's voice was fainter now but no less present, Zenitsu took comfort in that.

"Nothing," he called out, still weirded out about how he was communicating with her despite being in his own head. "I can't see anything. It's still dark!"

"There is no need to shout," Yui-Sama chuckled, her voice warm and welcoming as it wrapped around him in it's familiarity. "I can hear you loud and clear child."

He flushed. "Yeah…. Um," he said, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. "Sorry."

"Not at all," she said, amusement lacing her tone. "Carry on now. Best we figure out what's hindering your powers before Obanai comes back."

"Sure, yeah," Zenitsu said, cautiously looking around. "Where do we start?" Because as far as he could see, his mind was apparently blank and empty."

That felt vaguely insulting.

Yui-Sama chuckled again, this time coming across more as a cackle than anything else. "Your mind isn't empty, dear one. This is the depth of your subconsciousness, it's dark because whatever is in there it's trying to protect itself."

"Wha----"

Zenitsu took a stumbling step back, eyes growing wide. "I didn't….. I didn't say that out loud," he whispered, words coming out strangled. "How---"

"How else? How did you imagine we were communicating?" Came the soft voice of Yui in return. "I'm reading your thoughts, kid."

"My thoughts!"

Zenitsu would later not be proud to admit it, but yes, he shrieked. Because that was an invasion of privacy, right? Right?!

"Zenitsu, kid, calm down."

But he couldn't. He just….. Shaking his head, he stepped away from the direction he thought the voice was coming from. "No," he said, shaking his head again. "I don't want you in my head." Somehow just the thought of her being able to hear all his little insecurities, all his little fears, all his grief, made him feel sick. Made him want to throw up. It was too much. "Get out."

"Zenitsu----"

"I said, get out!"

Clutching his head; fingers tightening around his hair and tugging, he swallowed thickly. "Get out! I don't want you in my head!"

The only place he'd ever felt safe, the only place he'd found sanctuary, the only place that had always been his and his alone. His own thoughts where his fears had found a permanent home, where no one could hear them and now……

How had he trusted that this was going to be a good idea? Going into his head? Rooting through his own mind?

This was a terrible idea.

His thoughts was all he had and he knew what a luxury that was. What a blessing. For a person like him who could read minds, could read intentions, he knew how important ones mind could be and now his own was being violated. His very thoughts. His primal fears, exposed.

"Get out," he shrieked. "Get out, get out, get out!"

And then, he ran.

"No," he could hear Yui-Sama shout in warning, but he wasn't listening, he couldn't listen. So he ran. Legs carrying him away from the darkness and into endless nothingness.

"No Zenitsu, stop. Stop!"

But he couldn't.

He couldn't.

Perhaps that's why he didn't notice the light until he was standing right smack dab in the middle of it. The brightness of it all filtering under his tightly shut eyes and finally making him snap them both open.

Yui-Sama's voice is still there but it's fainter now; Zenitsu didn't notice. Not right away. Didn't care to notice it.

Instead his entire focus is occupied by the sudden light surrounding him from all directions. After what had felt like an all consuming darkness for so long, to see light it was…… taking a step closer to the spot where it was the brightest, Zenitsu allowed himself to momentarily basked in its welcoming presence. Then he took another step. And then another. The closer he got, the more welcoming the light felt, the fainter the warning voice at the back of his head got.

'Stop, don't….. You're being dr….gg--- Zenitsu!'

Even his thoughts felt too far away. Yui-Sama's repeated calling of his name slowly fading into the background and the light drawing him in.

All he could make out from her voice was the faint whispering of Zenitsu…. Zenitsu….zenitsu….

"Oi Zenitsu," Kaigaku said, snapping his fingers in front of his eyes. "Pay attention, idiot."

Zenitsu blinked…. Huh?

"Kaigaku…..sen…pai?"

 "Who else," Kaigaku snared, turning away from him and throwing a old tattered bag in his direction. Zenitsu fumbled to catch it. "Now stop daydreaming for once and get moving."

Taking a stumbling step back from the intensity of his senpai's sheer dislike for him, Zenitsu stared up at him in confusion. "Where are we going?"

Pausing in drawing his haori tighter around himself, Kaigaku turned around to give him an incredulous look. "Are you kidding me?"

Zenitsu shrank back.

"Did non of Jigoro-Sensei's words get through your thick skull?!" Zenitsu flinch back even further. "This isn't a joke you brat. The demons are coming, let's go."

Chapter Text

"But we have Gramps," he spluttered, clutching the ratty bag tighter and barely being able to hold back the tears threatening to spill down his cheeks. "Gramps is super powerful, he'll take care of the de…demons and we don't have to leave!"

Chapter Text

It was the screams that reached him first.

The piercing needles of fear cutting across the air and digging under his skin and Obanai's blood ran cold. "Zenitsu," he said, voice stilted; realization dawning and then he was running. Dashing the last few steps to the unassuming door and blasting through it, sword at ready.

He hadn't gone far. Just looked for a tiny motel for them to stay in after Yui-sama managed to unlock the brat's potential and he'd found it. A couple of streets down, there had been a nice little quaint place to store away the kid until he'd had the chance to fulfil his end of the bargain with the ancient woman and then they'd be on their way again.

Of course it would only be possible if Yui-sama succeeded in fixing the kid's bizarre problem and help him sort through whatever was blocking him from accessing his breath style while awake but despite the many grim betrayals dancing between him and Yui-sama, Obanai was confident in her skill and did not doubt she would find a way to set Kuwajima's student on the right path.

He believed in her capability even if he didn't believe in her anymore. Not after everything that befell him at her hands but he believed she would do her best. Believed she would try and do right by Zenitsu if only to try and mend the bridge between them Obanai had long decided to walk away from. So nothing could have prepared him for what he saw when he walked in that day.

Zenitsu caught in the throats of a mind walk gone wrong. Zenitsu screaming his heart out with lightening burning across his body and burning every inch of surface the out of control electricity could reach and Yui-sama hiding behind stacks of book, shouting for the kid to wake up.

Obanai had never heard Zenitsu sound so scared before. Kaburamaru hissed in his ear and Obanai was moving across the floor before he could think to question what the hell had happened in his absence. "Agatsuma," he shouted, dropping down on his knees next to him; hands fluttering around the shaking body unable to touch him with lightening wailing at him in warning "Wake up, brat! Snap out of it damn it!"

But the kid continued to convulse were he lay on the ratty couch and Obanai could do nothing but stand by him, feeling useless. "Wake up, Agatsuma!" He shouted again, panic slowly climbing up his throat as he shielded Kaburamaru with a hand when a lightening flared too close to comfort to his friend. "Agatsuma!"

"It's no use," Yui shouted at him, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him away from the kid just in time for a pulse of blinding light to consume the kid for a split second before dying out again. "I've been trying to wake him for nearly an hour now but it isn't working!"

It was then Obanai zeroed in on her. The wide-eyed not-human who's hair was stuck out in every which direction and who's skin was red with fading lightening burns. Obanai saw her, standing in front of him. Saw her stare into his eyes in what could almost be qualified as guilt and he heard the kid screaming himself hoarse behind him and before he could even think, he had her by the neck, slamming her up against the nearest wall; books tumbling everywhere at the sheer brute strength he'd just used. "what have you done," he hissed. "What did you do to him?"

Her face spasmed and even as she didn't try and claw his fingers off her throat, the guilt dancing in her eyes was so powerful Obanai wanted to be sick. "There was more buried under his mind then I initially expected," she said softly and Obanai found himself instinctively tightening his grip causing her to choke.

He hated that tone. Hated how she sounded when she tried to justify what she'd done. When her plans fell apart and whatever mess she'd made of the person she was trying so save came flooding out of the wounds she could never fully cover up.

He hated it.

Yui-sama was Kyojuro's family and Kyojuro was his so he had tried to make his peace with what Shinjuro Rengoku-san and this woman had made of him and let it go, but he could not. He could spend years never thinking about it. Years learning to justify what they had done, what they all had done to him and convince himself it was for his sake. That he would have died if they had let him keep carrying his traumas in his too small hands.

And still, all of it would be undone in a blink of an eye the minute the ancient woman was given a chance because Yui-sama could never be trusted. He should have known. He brought her Agatsuma like a fool and walked out of the door believing whatever guilt residing in her heart would make her toe the line of compassion and do right by the kid but---

"Don't," he hissed. "You said you could fix him. We talked about this," his fingers flexed and she winced. "I wrote to you and you told me.." he trailed off. "What did you do?"

But just as Yui was about to answer him, Zenitsu shot up from the couch, a garbled noise of pain tearing its way out of his throat. The room quietened down. The flash of lightening darting across the kid's skin the only thing cutting through the silence. "Sen….pai?" he whispered brokenly and Obanai's heart twisted with rage.

Damn it. Damn it all. Why had he brought him here. Why had he trusted her again. Why had he been so stupid.

"What the fuck did you do to him?!" Obanai roared at the ancient woman but as Zenitsu burst into tears, he found himself releasing her instantly. It was the terror in the kid's voice that made him drop Yui as if burned. "Agatsuma," he said; unable to bury the deep-seated relief that came with the words. The kid was awake. Crying and scared and God knows how traumatized but he was awake and Obanai couldn't ask for more at this moment. "Kid," he said, rushing over to the shivering figure. "Can you hear me?"

But it was obvious the kid was caught in some kind of waking nightmare for he was sobbing with hysteria, electricity bouncing around him as if his fear itself had manifested around him like a shield. Obanai frowned. What the hell had that witch done to him. Why had he left him with her. Why had he trusted her again even after what she'd done to him. He was a fool. A stupid, desperate fool who'd taken the easy way out for his troubles because he'd been a terrible teacher. Gyomei had warned him. Told him to be careful and yet here he was, having put his trust in the squandering hands of Yui-sama, again.

 If only Kuwajima-san could see him now.

Kaburamaru hissed softly in his ear, trying to slither down his shoulder to reach Agatsuma, but a stern finger from him on the snake's head stopped it dead in its track. Obanai couldn't let his friend comfort the kid right now, he was dangerous and despite how terrified the boy was, with no control over his breath style at the moment all he would serve to do was hurt Kaburamaru and cry himself to sleep every night because of it.

So putting the snake down gently by the table, Obanai reached for the kid. Grabbing his two trembling outstretched hands in his own, hiding a wince at how the lightening burned and looked Agatsuma in the eyes. "Calm down," he said softly; distinctly aware of Yui coming up behind him but refusing to let himself think about the guilt she was exuding with her presence alone and only focusing on the scared child in front of him that he'd somehow ended up subjecting to even more terror than he was already suffering from. "I need you to take a deep breath and calm down, brat. Can you do that for me?"

The kid's teeth clattered and his eyes were glazed over as if a fog had found its home there. "I," he stuttered, his hands buzzing with electricity enough to burn the skin off of Obanai's palms; the snake pillar bit back a pained grunt and tightened his grip in comfort. "Obanai-senpai…. I don't know why…. Senpai?" the last word came out with such a plea it made the older man feel helpless beyond belief. Something had broken within his student and it was all his fault.

"I don't need you to explain anything to me right now," he found himself whispering, thump running circler motion on the back of the kid's hands. "I just need you to take a deep breath, focus on my heartbeat and try to match me. Can you do that?"

The glazed eyes finally turned to stare down at him. The kid looking smaller than ever before from where he sat on the dusty blue couch, his hands twitching in Obanai's own. "Senpai?"

"Follow my heartbeat." Obanai said," voice hoarse. "Don't focus on anything else, just me. You can do this."

And slowly, ever so slowly, Zenitsu began to do exactly that. He closed his eyes, breathed deeply; throat bopping with each gulp of air but he kept at it, tears trailing down his cheeks, lightening dancing around his body but he kept breathing. Fingers ultimately turning from slackness into gripping Obanai's hands with strength that made the snake pillar's bones creek. "I don't want to forget," the kid finally muttered, tipping sideways and only Obanai's alarmed grip on his shoulder preventing him from falling off the couch. "I don't want to forget again but I can't I can't deal with this. I can't think…. Gramps…..I forgot and I have let him down and it's my fault and I can't forget, please," he wept. "Please it's leaving me and I don't want to forget again."

"You won't," Yui's voice suddenly came from behind him before Obanai could think of putting together a reassuring sentence to bring the fear in the kid's eyes to a stop, despite not knowing what the hell he was talking about.

Forget what? Had he seen Kuwajima-san in his mind walk?

"After such a trying mind walk," the ancient lady continued, stepping up to Obanai's side and kneeling down to look the crying Zenitsu in the eyes. "It all get jumbled up for a while and you feel as if your memories are fleeting but they are not. They are your memories and you have reclaimed them so they will stick with you." She smiled then; red lips stretching into that gentle little tilt that once had reassured Obanai to give up his mind for peace. "You will be well Agatsuma Zenitsu, do not fear." The kid was looking at her now as if she'd given him the heavens, relief all but carved into every inch of his frame.

"I won't forget?"

"No," she said, shaking her head; Obanai refused to look at her other than from the corner of his eye. "Memories are powerful things, child. They cannot be lost ones found." Here she paused. "I'm sorry," she said, voice low and sad and hauntingly sweet. "I should have noticed your mind was more scarred than I initially assumed. You were hurting far more from your locked memories than whatever ailment causing your inability to access your breath style but I was too eager to fix something for Ob---….I should have calculated for things going wrong. I did not. And you had to walk through your most traumatized moments all alone. For that, I am truly, truly sorry. Agatsuma Zenitsu."

"It's…." Zenitsu paused, fingers coming up to encircle the the wrist of the hand Obanai had on his shoulder. He opened his mouth again, then closed it. Before he opened it again one more time but nothing came out.

The helplessness exuding from his body in waves could not be mistaken for anything else even for someone like Obanai who had a hard time focusing on anything else but his own rage at Yui at the moment.

"We’re leaving," Obanai gritted out. His words making Yui's head snap in his direction. "Let's go, Agatsuma. I have found somewhere we can stay for the night."

"Obanai," Yui started but Obanai's glare made her shut her mouth and frown at him, delicate eyebrows pulling down in disappointment.

"I will keep my promise to you," he said, standing up and pulling the kid to his feet, careful to support his weight until he wasn't so of kilter anymore before he bent down and allowed Kaburama to climb up his shoulders. Now that the lightening show was over, Obanai felt a little bubble of relief pop in his chest. "I will get rid of those bandits for you but after that, we're done."

"Obanai," she said again, but he refused to look at her. Refused to pay her any mind as he picked up the kid's shirt and haori from where it had been abandoned on the other side of the couch and began to help the kid get into them; the brat allowing himself to be manhandled easily enough which only served to make Obanai's rising panic even more destructive. What if Agatsuma turned catatonic again? What if those hellish three days from all the way back then, became their norm once more. All because Yui-sama was reckless with a child's mind. Only because he was reckless with a child's life. "Talk to me, snake pillar," Yui said, sounding mournful. "I did not know his issues reached far beyond his innate demon slaying abilities."

"You should have known," Obanai hissed, unable to keep his anger to himself even as he desperately wanted to be above the spite running through his veins. Vaguely he registered Zenitsu's flinch next to him. "You should have realized. You are the expert here. Why didn't you have counter measures? Why didn't you plan for things potentially going wrong?! You just let him drown in his own head and left him with scars I have no clue how to fix! You should have known better!!" His eyes flashed and his chest hurt. "Tome died because of you," he said, voice climbing and climbing at the memories of his cousin who'd hated him so but who he still had wanted to save if only he'd been given the opportunity. "You erased her from my mind and she died because I wasn't there to protect her. But of course you didn't think things through then either, did you?"

Anger, fury, cruelty and pain. Those were emotions that had been haunting Obanai for as long as he could remember but he'd gotten an iron grip on them as years passed. Now he prided himself in not letting his emotions run amuck when faced with circumstances that derailed his composure. But when it came to Yui…. When it came to the one sore spot in his life he never had any control over-

"Enough," Yui-sama snapped; wind picking up inside the tiny house, her eyes blazing with burning fire from the depth of hell. She didn't look human anymore. "I respect you, snake pillar," she said. "But if you cannot extend me the same courtesy, do not presume my respect for you will not run out."

Obanai tensed, his instincts screaming for him to grab for his sword but he refused. Yui was something else and angry as he might have been at her recklessness, she was Kyojuro's family and an ally as well. He could not fight her. Not now, not ever. Not when he knew deep down he was equally to blame for what happened to Agatsuma. So he unclenched his fist, tightened his grip around Agatsuma's shoulder and glared instead. This only served to make her sigh in disappointment; hair falling back down and eyes turning soft.

"I am sorry, for what that is worth, Iguro Obanai," she said.

He only nodded stiffly at her, immediately turning away to focus on the pale faced Zenitsu. "Let's go," he said, tugging at him gently. "We aren't staying too far from here."

The kid's foggy eyes tracked him as he went about picking up his shoes and Obanai's throat clamped up at the thought that he'd brought Zenitsu back to that state again.

After making sure the kid was fully dressed and ready to go; avoiding meeting Yui's piercing gaze the entire time, Obanai made his way back to the kid's side; holding out his sword. "Here," he said but when Agatsuma only flinched and averted his eyes from the weapon, Obanai frowned. "You don't want it?" he asked but no reply came his way. The kid having decided it was time to go full mute on him again. Obanai sighed, fastening the sword to his other hip and turning to Yui-sama at last. Bowing deeply, he straightened. "Thank you for the time," he said.

Yui-sama's smile was small and heartbreaking. Obanai refused to let it crumble his resolve. "Thank you for visiting," she said. "Take care of yourself, Iguro Obanai."

He nodded, grabbing for the kid's sleeve and tugging him gently towards the door. "Farewell, Yui-sama," he said, Zenitsu not even looking at her as he allowed himself to be pulled out the door.

"Farewell, dear children." Yui-sama's voice was as melodic and hauntingly beautiful as ever but it also sounded quite human as she looked at him with fondness and hurt and warmth and it made him want to cry.

Obanai of old might have cried in fact but it had been years since he'd been someone who would let her cup his cheek and tell him how proud of him she was.

"May we never meet again," he said instead and with that, he left his past behind, pulling the kid along into the future.

------------------

As they made their way through the colorful streets of the small town, the kid's sudden muteness did not let up. He just quietly followed in his footsteps. Letting himself be dragged by the sleeve of his haori while his eyes were covered by his bangs and his head tilted downward, watching his feet.

Obanai swallowed down the bitterness in his throat and kept moving, not saying a word when Kaburamaru slithered down his shoulder, down his arm and up the kid's shoulders; snuggling by his bandaged ear and hissing softly. Zenitsu did not seem to notice the presence of his friend and it only served to make Obanai tighten his grip around the haori; even as his palms throbbed from the second degree burns caused by holding onto the kid's hands only minutes ago.

When they finally made their way into the motel he'd rented at, Obanai pulled the kid's up to the third floor, briefly contemplating going into his own room after situating the kid into his own but quickly discarded the idea. Agatsuma in his current state could not be left alone. So he unlocked the room next to his and pulled the kid in before closing the door behind them with a soft click.

It didn't take long to strip the kid's down to his under garment and it tugged at Obanai's heart how familiar this all was. "Are you hungry?" he asked, helping the kid into the lonely futon by the corner and pulling the covers over him. The kid shook his head once and turned away. Obanai sighed. "Very well," he said, moving away and sitting across from him, both hands folded in his lap, ready to wait the night out. Kaburamaru was curled up next to Zenitsu's pillow, his tiny white head resting on the kid's shoulder. "If you need something, let me know."

The kid didn't say anything, just curled tighter around himself and Obanai sighed again, reaching to grab his sword but taking a sharp intake off breath when his palm came in contact with the hilt, he'd momentarily managed to bury the throbbing pain eating at his burned palms but apparently it was only so long he could ignore injuries after things settled down.

So, standing up, Obanai made to leave for the bathroom when Agatsuma shot out of his futon at lightening speed. "Don't go!" he gasped; Kaburamaru hissing loudly at being thrown off and Zenitsu on his knees, body shaking as he reached out to him, naked terror bleeding from his eyes.

Obanai stilled.

Fuck.

What had he done to this poor kid.

"I'm not going anywhere," he finally managed to force out; trying and failing to sound reassuring as he locked his mismatched eyes with the glowing orange of the kid's. "I only intend to go to the bathroom next door to fix my bandages and take care of old injuries. I will keep the door open if that will reassure you."

Zenitsu didn't say anything for a while and the quiet whirling around them was almost too suffocating. It was just as Obanai had decided to weather the burns and sit back down until the kid had gone to sleep when Agatsuma spoke up again. "Okay," he whispered.

This soft response simultaneously allowing the snake pillar to tend to his recent injuries while also filling him with relief that the brat hadn't gone all catatonic on him again.

"I will be back," he said, nodding at the kid. "It will only take a minute."

"Okay."

"Kaburamaru will keep you company until I return." The snake hissed in agreement. The kid blinked up at him slowly.

"Okay."

Obanai swallowed down the rest of his words, turned on his heels and escaped into the bathroom.

It took him no time at all to tend to his injuries; bandaging up his hands and making sure he applied the burn cream appropriately before doing so. Looking at himself in the mirror; face bandage free for once, he grimaced, watching his lips pull down, knowing behind the tiny pinprick of scars lay a hideous smile only invisible to the human eyes due to Yui-sama's meddling generosity. He quickly covered it up again and walked out of the bathroom.

The kid was in the same exact position he'd left him. Still reaching out, still on his knees. Still shaking. Obanai's sighed, heart sinking. It was going to be a long time before they managed to recover from this one it seemed.

Walking over, he gently pushed the kid down, grabbed the covers and pulled them to his chin. "Sleep," he said, staring at the brat until he nodded back. "We will talk tomorrow."

And with that he went back to sit at the other wall, crossing his legs, pulling both swords on his lap and closing his eyes to keep watch for the night.

The silence around them was deafening and heavy and intrusive and painful but Obanai let it simmer under their skin because for now, it was all he could do. It would take time to fix whatever was broken and he would not rush it. He planned to take care of the bandits come tomorrow but with Zenitsu's reluctance to let him out of sight, perhaps he would have to delay it till the kid could be left alone without descending into panic.

One step at a time, he quietly told himself.

But---

"Kaigaku-senpai killed Gramps."

The words were soft, wet, broken.

Obanai froze. "What?"

"Kaigaku is the reason why.... he's the reason why everyone died. He killed my family. He killed everyone."

What?

What?!

Chapter Text

The kid had been sleeping soundly for the past six hours and Obanai was grateful.

After their talk, if he could even call it that; as it more vividly resembled screaming fits of despair, something he'd been ill equipped to deal with he'd been thankful the kid had finally tired himself out. The reveal of everything the kid had gone through had been horrifying to say the least and he'd been grateful for Kaburamaru's presence. The snake wrapping himself around Zenitsu's neck and hissing into his ear the only thing keeping the kid from blowing up into a ball of lighting terror.

In the end Agatsuma had managed through tearful blubbers to explain what exactly he'd seen and it had been all Obanai could do not to lose it right there and then. He'd kept it together. He'd pressed for some answers, left others alone and had told the kid as calmly as possible that he would figure it all out. That he, Zenitsu did not have to worry himself too much about it and he'd ordered him to bed for now.

Agatsuma had fallen asleep despite fervently trying to cling to wakefulness and Obanai had been grateful for that too. Sitting there for hours, trying and failing to digest the information he'd received, he'd been grateful for the small mercies of not having to save face in front of a distressed child.

Clenching his bandaged hands hard enough to make the burns flair up, he silently stared at himself in the bathroom mirror; having slipped in for modicum of privacy.

'How,' he thought, fingers digging into his palms, eyebrows twitching alongside his whirlwind of uncontrollable emotions. 'How had this all happened under their noses and they hadn't known?'

Kaigaku betraying the Demon Slayer Corp. Kuwajime-Sama's death, Blue Spider Lily's…information, secrets, locations. It was all too much.

Breathing in deeply, he closed his eyes for a second and let his senses settle.

He hadn't signed up for this. Hell, he didn't even know what he'd signed up for at this point. It all had just gone so out of hand.

He hadn't planned to visit Kuwajima's quint little village until he was attacked and needed a place to lay low. He hadn't planned to take anyone back with him until he found the kid. He hadn't planned to train anyone until said kid had begged him and he hadn't---

It was all just too much.

How was he supposed to react to all this?!

Blue Spider Lily's!

Muzan was looking for Blue Spider Lily's and Kuwajime-Sama died protecting its location and he'd left that information with his traumatized student who'd watched him get killed by his other student. "What the fuck," he hissed under his breath, running a shaking hand through his hair. "What the actual fuck am I supposed to do with this?"

The answer to that was obvious of course. Go to the main compound, call an emergency Pillar meeting and reveal all this crucial new information to  Oyakata-sama, but how could he just do that? He had a stupid, traumatized kid with him now. A stupid traumatized kid who had recently found out his brother sold out his village to the demons and killed his grandfather figure. A grandfather figure he, Obanai, had held so much respect for. How do you just drag a kid like that out of bed and force him to travel through difficult and dangerous terrains in hopes of getting this all too important information to the right hands?

How much could this kid take before he broke?

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Obanai breathed out slowly, breathed in even slower, held it, then breathed out again. Only a couple of weeks ago he wouldn't have hesitated to drop this kid off at random location and travel by himself to reach his destination on time but that no longer was possible. He had taken responsibility over this kid now. He had made a promise and he couldn't break it. Not when Kuwajima…

Righting himself from his hunched over position over the sink, Obanai opened the door back to the living quarters and walked in.

The kid was fast asleep, chest rising and falling in a reassuring beat of peaceful rest and for a second, Obanai couldn't quite take his eyes off of him. He was so young, he noted in his mind. So young and broken and alone and all he had in this world now was, him. And Obanai didn't know what to do with that. People don't do well with only having him in their corner. He wasn't something 'good' to have and he didn't want to be. He didn't need others to count on him. He had a mission and it was all he had the capacity to focus on. All he wished to focus on; a flash of pink and orange flaming memories darted through his mind at that, and he found his lips tilting into a ghost of a smile, well, there were those he did care for, but they did not depend on him. This kid did and Obanai, he wasn't sure he was who the kid really needed. So far all he'd managed to do was retraumatize him at every turn and now-

A soft hiss from Kaburamaru tore his eyes away from the sleeping figure and he crouched down to let his friend slink up his arm. "Hey," he said, keeping his voice soft and quiet. The snake hissed again, pressing his face into his cheek in a show of affection and concern. Obanai blinked twice, then reached up to pat his friend on the head. "I'm okay," he muttered, momentarily surprised at how his voice sounded off and slightly hoarse. "You do not need to worry about me." Kaburamaru didn't seem assured by his reassurance but there was nothing else to say about his current state of mind, so Obanai chose to ignore the low hisses of concern and instead walked over to the kid and leaned down to shake his shoulder lightly.

When the kid startled awake, throwing himself up into a sitting position; a yelp of surprise falling from his mouth, Obanai flicked him on the forehead, inciting loud protests and bleary eyed glares of annoyance. He just raised an unimpressed eyebrow in return; shoulders slacking in involuntary relief that some of the kid's personality was still there; even if it was only him momentarily forgetting what he'd learned due to the foggy mental state that came with sudden wakefulness. "I need to fulfill my part of the deal with Yui-Sama, so I need you to stay here and rest while I finish this up."

The kid was shaking his head even before he'd finished talking and Obanai found himself gritting his teeth in annoyance. "Agatsuma-" he started but the now wide awake child in front of him cut him off quickly in panic.

"No," he said, shaking his head fervently. "You promised…you can't just," eye watering slightly and lips quivering, he finished his sentence with a plea. "Please don't leave me."

Obanai frowned. "Don't be an idiot," he snapped, making the kid flinch away from him and Kaburamaru hiss into his ear in warning.

So sighing loudly, he tried to rephrase his response better. "Look," he said. "Of course I'm not leaving you. I made you a promise kid. I gave you a month to prove yourself and that month has yet to pass us by, so I'm not leaving you." Something in his voice and his words must have hit home because the kid quieted down just a little. Knowing that he was getting somewhere with him, Obanai pushed on. "But just as I made a promise with you," he said carefully, lifting a finger to halt whatever protest might have been coming his way. "I made an equally binding one with Yui-Sama and while that wretched woman nearly screwed up her side of the deal, clearly she unlocked some important memories we desperately need to inform the Corps so I will not flake on my end. And that is why," he continued, but much calmer this time having noticed the way the kid shrunk at the mention of 'memories'. "I will take care of the bandits and then I will come right back to pick you up. Understood?"

Silence.

"Understood," he repeated, steel under his words this time. "I need verbal conformation here Agatsuma." he added when all he got was a tiny tilt of the chin. And finally the kid looked him in the eyes; the wild panic very much presence in the golden orbs but--

"Understood, Obanai-senpai," he whispered.

"Good," Obanai said, refusing to let the frightened child shake his resolve to get the job done. So he crouched down next to him instead and reached up to pet his unruly hair once, twice. "It won't take me more than a couple of hours and then I'll be back."

"Promise?"

He snorted, patting his head once more but this time letting his hand linger. "I promise brat." Tilting the kid's face back slightly so he would look him in the eyes, he nodded at him, face grim. "I promise."

The conflict and naked terror was still so very present in the kid's eyes but he must have seen something he could lash onto from Obanai's expression because he nodded back a little bit braver this time. "Okay."

"Good," the snake pillar said, dropping his hand to lift his friend off his shoulders. "Kaburamaru will keep you company until I get back."

Taking the snake from his hands, Zenitsu smiled softly down at the snake curling himself around his arm. "Okay."

"Okay?"

The kid nodded. "Yeah, okay."

Standing up swiftly, Obanai let his eyes rest on his two companions for a second longer. "Look out for him," he finally directed to Kaburamaru, getting a hiss in affirmation and a loud protest from the kid that he didn't need looking after, before he turned around to grab his sword laying by the window.

It's when his fingers accidently brushed against Agatsuma's sword that he froze, staring down at the white handle.

"Obanai-senpai?"

Kuwajima-Sama had sacrificed himself to protect whatever was on this sword…Kuwajima-Sama had died for it.

"Obanai-Senpai?"

Straightening up after impulsively picking the kid's sword instead of his own, Obanai turned back around. "I will take your sword with me," he said, nodding back to the floor. "You keep mine safe until I get back. That way you have something of mine to hold onto."

Warmth flashed through the kid's eyes at the comment and he held the Kaburamaru closer and looked down at his feet. "Okay."

Obanai let out a soft hum that could have been mistaken for concern before he stalked out of the room, closing the door behind him with a soft click. And then he made his way outside and started walking.

He didn't stop walking until he was half way across town. He knew the thugs Yui-Sama was concerned about roamed around the outer areas of the town and he could probably locate them quickly enough if he darted across the rooftops but the thugs weren't the only reason why he'd wanted to leave the apartment.

Clenching his fingers around the sword, he pulled himself into an alleyway and drew the blade closer to his eyes.

He wanted to know what Kuwajima-Sama had left behind.

The kid likely would have known that's exactly why he'd taken the sword if he'd been in a better state of mind but alas, Obanai gotten away with it and now he could figure this entire thing out without subjecting the kid to what essentially was Kuwajima-Sama's last words. After all, who knew what the old man had actually written and how he'd written it. For all Obanai knew it could be something that would drown the little brat in guilt, so he was sure he made the right decision to at least find out what was on it before letting the kid discover it himself.

Sighing, he drew the blade out of its sheath, examining it carefully as it glimmered under the light of the low hanging sun over the horizon. "Where could he have," he muttered to himself, fingers tracing the blade inch by inch. "Where-"

But it's when his eyes landed on the handle that he foolishly realized the obvious answer. Tugging at the shagreen, careful not to tear at the untanned leather, Obanai unwrapped the handle. And as soon as he got it off, a tiny piece of paper fell out and only Obanai's quick reflexes saved it from landing in the puddle by his feet.

"Clever man," he muttered to himself, lips tilting upward under the bandages as he unfurled the paper to read it. But it's when his eyes caught the neat hand writing, the familiar strokes, the careful lining of characters that his breath caught.

Kuwajima-Sama had died for this.

Kuwajima---

….

…..

He must have known, right? The old man…he must have known…

He must have known that they would come for him. He must have…why else would he have hid it? Why? But if he'd suspected it, why hadn't he--

Obanai didn't know when his hands started shaking, didn't know when his eyes started burning but before his mind could catch up to his body, his knees were buckling under him and he hit the ground with a thud. "He's gone," he whispered to himself in disbelief, staring down at the sheet of paper; eyes too blurry and wet to make out the little words anymore. "Oh God," he said, clutching the paper to his chest, trying to breath, "he's really gone."

When the tears finally came it was all Obanai can do to scramble himself into the tightest corner of the alleyway, hand pressed over his mouth, hiding from the world as his uncontrollable emotions overwhelmed him like a storm.

Kuwajima-Sama was dead. He was gone and he was never coming back. The man who'd come for him all those years ago. The man who avenged his friends. The old man who laughed with no care in the world, who gushed about his idiot students on each letter he sent his way. He was gone. He was murdered, his entire village was murdered and he was gone and he was never coming back. Never. And… and Obanai, Obanai for the first time, truly for the first time felt that undisputable fact in his heart like a blade going through an organ.

He hadn't wanted to feel. He hadn't wanted to mourn. But God, he was only human damn it and--

It was muffled and quiet when he cried. Little sobs of strained pain gasping out of his mouth as he dug his fingers into his cheeks in vain attempt to stop his sorrow from spilling out.

He held the paper as close to his heart as possible. Sat in that puddle of water for what felt like forever, salty tears soaking white bandages, nails drawing blood and soul aching with grief no longer buried. He sat there, alone, curled up against a dirty wall, allowing himself for the first time to mourn a friend, an old friend who'd not only looked out for him at his best but had been there at his worst. He mourned, oh how much he mourned. But moments pass and so too did this one and when the sobs receded with the sun hiding behind the horizon. Iguro Obanai, wiped the tears away, rubbed the blood on his pants, stood up after picking up the sword from the ground, carefully read through the letter once more before placing it right back where it belonged, fastened the blade to his belt and walked.

He walked and walked and with each step his head lifted back up little by little until he was back to the man he'd been before a white little paper fell out of a sword handle and that was enough. That was okay because he was a demon slayer. A Pillar and Iguro had better things to do than cry over lost souls. Yes, grief was human and he'd let himself grieve but it was over now. It was done. Now it was time to kill.

'Kaigaku,' he thought, gripping the sword by his hip tight enough to bruise his burns. 'I'm coming for you, you fucking bastard.'

Chapter Text

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Sorry not an update guys but I'm working on the new chapter so it'll definitaly be up around the 17th or 18th. I just wanted to ask you guys opinion on the direction of the story. I know this fic is very plot driven and so far there has been a lot of loss and trauma and more loss and even more trauma buuuuuuut I've been thinking. I have a whole mini filler arc outlined. I've had it for a while actually and never really knew how to write it in. But the place we currently are in the story gives me a chance to put it in and give obanai and zen some breathing room to just relax a bit. Don't worry the plot will still be hovering over their heads and their goal is still to get to the meeting but a little detour never hurts anyone right? lol. But yeah, that is something I've been thinking about but I also know how many of you love this story for the plot driven arc so I wanted to leave it up to you. We can keep going directly from the last zen and obanai chapter into the plot or we can give them a moment of respite were they are not fighting for their lives, at least for a couple of days. Ooooor I could fuse both ideas together and give them a moooment of breathing room before throwing them back into trauma.

Your choice. Either way I've been working on both versions for a while (flipflopping really lol) so just let me know!

Good day my good people<3

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

They called him ruthless. They called him crude, cruel, violent. Sanemi didn't disagree with any of it. He was what he was and he would wear it with pride until the day he was slain. But reckless? How absurdly stupid. He'd never been reckless a day in his life. He was calculated. Had always been. With a blood like his, he would have died years ago if he'd let himself grow reckless. How idiotic his fellow demon slayer were thinking he'd lost his marbles out of the blue. No, he was not reckless, he was just taking his job more seriously now that Obanai had decided he'll turn babysitter and neglect his duties.

'No,' he thought, palm pressing down on the sluggishly bleeding gash across his stomach as his chest stuttered with lack of easy access to air. 'I'm not reckless. Just maybe a little bit angry. Maybe a little bit worried.'

Stupid Genya.

What the fuck had happened to him? Was he alive? Was he still trailing behind Himejima like the pathetic duckling he pretended to be. Had he finally given up and set up a normal life for himself like Sanemi had hoped?

Why wasn't he writing anymore?

What was stopping him?

Stupid Genya.

Gritting his teeth, he used his inured remaining arm to drag himself up the cave wall to sit properly. Mud was smeared with splash of blood on the rocky ground and he grimaced. Demons will eventually find him. The smell of his Marechi blood was too enticing not to attract a hoard of them and having killed three lower moons in the span of one week, well, it likely would take everything he had not to get himself gutted and flayed.

'Exciting challenge,' he grinned, grabbing his sword and determinately, painfully pulled himself to his feet.

He'd been gone for two weeks, no contact with the rest of the Corps and he knew how that type of behaviour tended to upset Okayata-sama but….He'd received a lead and he knew he'd find a battle at the end of it, so he'd rushed over, on his own. And it had been worth it. Tricking lower moon four and three into entering lower moon six's territory and killing them all together. It had taken him a couple of long fought, calculated days but it had been a magnificent feeling pulling it off.

He shouldn't play with his kills like this, but he needed to keep himself distracted. Do his job in a way that was challenging.

All this thought about Genya was doing him no good and clearly were impairing his talents. 'Reckless,' he scoffed, taking one step, then another, pulling himself deeper into the cave; hoping he'd at least get an hour to patch himself up before the beasts descended on him. 'Can't believe the stupid kid is making me fucking reckless'. He'd never been reckless in his entire life and now--

Dropping down in the farthest corner of the cave, he let go of his measly belongings along with his sword and got to work. Tightening a shred of his haori across his stomach, he used another piece to wrap up his bleeding forehead. It wasn't as deep as the gash across his gut, but his eyes getting glued shut now would be such a bitch to deal with later. "There," he hissed, satisfied the injury on his leg along with his stomach and forehead were taken care of. "And," he used tapes to clamp the wide bone-deep gushing wound on his left arm shut. "Done."

Satisfied he wouldn't bleed out for at least the next three hours, he leaned back and closed his eyes. He wouldn't sleep but a little rest while waiting for his assailants wouldn't hurt. "Fuck this job," he muttered, mind going far away to a little house with laughing kids and a mother who never quite stopped smiling despite struggling to raise them all. "Fuck it all."

Stupid Genya.

When he next came to it was to the sound of rustling and sneering and he grinned. Pushing himself back to his feet, he threw his sword over his shoulder and started walking. 'About time', he thought. He'd been itching for a fight even as he'd come off of several back to back including the lower moon trio. He needed the distraction after all.

But just before he'd almost exited the cave; night having claimed the evening light fully, his eyes widened in recognition and he jumped back just in time.

Fourth Form: Constant Resounding Slashes!!!

He was thrown back a couple of feat, having to cover his eyes to avoid getting blinded by the rocks thrown his way. Why were those explosions always so damn noisy.

"Oi," he called out when the noise and bombs eventually died down. "Can you give a guy a warning?"

"So you could use that as an opportunity to escape again?" Came Uzui's cheerful voice, the man bouncing into the cave like it was his own damn house. "Don't think so!"

"Oh fuck off."

The shinobi laughed, finally fully visible to the wind pillar. "It's good to finally get a hold of you again Sanemi. It's been too long."

Sanemi glared hard enough to set demons on fire. "Don't call me that."

"No?"

"No."

Uzui shrugged. "Oh well."

Stabbing his sword pointedly into the ground, Sanemi furrowed his brows deeper. "What are you doing here exactly? I dished my crow a long long time ago, so pray tell me, how did you find me?"

Suddenly all the cheer seemed to watch off of Uzui's face and the sound pillar's wide shoulders hunched up. "Okayata-sama has been worried," he started slowly, Sanemi immediately squishing down the guilt rising up with violent force at the reminder of the Master he'd abandoned to chance the thrill. "We all are really. We keep losing our numbers quicker than we can mourn them and then you of all people fall off the face of the earth. Of course everyone were besides themselves. I heard through the grapevines even Obanai has been looking for you whenever he can; and you know how he is."

"I didn't ask whether you lot were worried," Sanemi gritted out, blinking away the dark spots threatening to blind him and gripping his sword tight enough to bruise. He couldn't keel over in front of this idiot. He refused. "I asked you how you found me? And it's not my problem Obanai likes me better than you and don't call him that."

Uzui let out an exasperated sighed. "I swear to God you two. Doesn't really matter. Pretty sure Giyu  and Gyomei like me better than both of you anyways."

"You keep telling yourself that, now answer me."

Walking over to him, Uzui swiftly shoved him down. Loud angry protests from Sanemi falling on deaf ears and his halfhearted sword slashes easily avoided. "I found you because while most of us have been busy with our missions we've been sharing intel and finally gathered that most demon slaying were going on around this area." The sound pillar offered which stalled Sanemi's hand momentarily allowing his fellow demon slayer to take a seat next to him. "It became pretty obvious after you killed three lower moons so I was sent to find you."

"I'm fine," Sanemi said, eyes refusing to meet the other as his chest heaved ever so slightly. Fuck it hurt. He was thankful he no longer was on his feet but someone would have to rip out his guts before he ever showed the sound pillar gratitude. "You can go now. Tell Oyakata-sama I don't need babysitting. I'm fine."

Uzui hummed. The disbelief was pretty obvious in his voice and it only served to piss Sanemi off even further. "Okay," the other said finally, taking the wind pillar off guard. "I will, but I didn't just come find you to tell you we were all worried about your dumbass." Riffling through his pocket, he pulled out a white sheet of paper folded in half. "I came to give you this."

Sanemi froze.

No, it couldn’t  be……

Was that---

"Yeah," Uzui answered his unasked question, putting the letter in his hand ever so gently before standing up. "The little one wrote to you but since you've sent your crow away someone had to come find you to give it to you. Don't burn this one you hear?"

Staring down at the measly little thing, Sanemi blinked slowly, mouth slightly open, eyes wide.

Oh.

Oh

"I've killed any demons between you and the nearest city, so take your time," Uzui continued, looking a little bit antsy yet comforting. It was disgusting If Sanemi wasn't so lost in the stupid paper in his hand, he would have snapped at him. "Take your time." With that, he turned and walked away.

It was only when Uzui reached the mouth of the cave that Sanemi found his voice. "Oi," he called out, halting the other. "Thanks."

"Any time." There was a smile in there somewhere and with that, Uzui Tengen was gone, leaving Sanemi alone bleeding and with what quickly was turning into a water splotched paper, clenched between his fingers.

"Stupid Genya," he hissed, rubbing at his cheeks furiously; blood and water mixing together unabashedly . "Stupid stupid Genya. Fucking stupid idiot. What took you so long."

Chapter Text

He'd grabbed the flute out of Agatsuma's hand in a blink of an eye; shoving the kid by the face when he tried to take it back, an indignant cry escaping his mouth. "Shut it brat," he said, voice dangerously tight. The kid stilled and Obanai turned back to the flute, examining it suspiciously.

He didn't trust Yui-sama as far as he could throw her illusions. And anything, anything at all she gave to his unsuspecting bratling fell under strict, no.  He'd taken Agatsuma to her because he'd somehow convinced himself the ancient woman could fix what he'd been struggling to break down and all it led to was a mental breakdown for the kid.

Sure they'd gained invaluable insight into Kuwajima's last moments, but it had nearly broken the brat. So, he glared down at the inconspicuous flute in his hand. He was never trusting her with anything important ever again without double, then triple checking.

It was a beautiful instrument. Pale blue in colour with detailed design so intricate it didn't quite look crafted by mortals. Which shouldn't be a surprise since he doubted Yui-Sama had ever been mortal in her life.

He took his time inspecting the flute from top to bottom, twisting it this way and that. Pushing Kaburamaru away when the snake tried to catch his attention; likely finding his paranoia ridiculous. Obanai didn't care. Kaburamau could grumble all he wanted, Obanai hadn't survived this long by not overreacting to suspicious things that just so happen to be in his vicinity without his consent.

But try as he might, he couldn't find anything wrong with it. The thing just rested innocently in his palm, beautiful and harmless.

Obanai glowered at it.

He didn't trust it. No matter how harmless it looked at the moment, he didn't trust it, at all. Still, sighing under his breath and pinching the bridge of his nose in poorly concealed irritation he finally handed over the flute. "Take it. But," he said sharply when the kid's eyes lit up and he lunged towards the abomination in his grasp, Obanai pulled it back in warning. "If it does anything strange, and I mean anything. Glowing, playing on its own, moving, you smash it with a heavy object and run. Do you understand?"

The brat frowned, lips twitching suspiciously upward even as he tried to keep a serious demeanor. "Isn't that…..a bit…..much?"

"Do you want this stupid thing or not?"

"I do, I do!" the kid yelped, falling to his knees and putting his hands together over his head as if begging on the streets for change. "Can I please please please have it back? I promise I'll throw it out the window the second it tries to get me."

Obanai slapped him over head, eliciting a pained yelp. "Do not throw it out of the window you stupid child. Yui-Sama's type of magic must be crushed before it fully activates if you have any hopes of escaping it." He slapped him over the head again. "Smash it, understood? Don't throw it."

Wincing, the kid looked up at him, all sulk and pout. He looked ridiculous. "I will! Stop hitting me!"

Obanai stopped, but he also slammed the flute ever so forcefully on the open palms of the brat before standing up; fleetingly hoping it broke but only getting a pained hiss back, which honestly, was almost as good. "You may keep it then."

Any sign of exaggerated hurt disappeared from the kid's features in a flash and he was throwing himself back on his futon, lips growing into a giant smile as he held the flute above his head, eyes glittering. "Thanks senpai!"

The snake pillar scoffed, patting Kaburamaru in silent apology for ignoring him. The snake hissed back before coiling around his neck; it wasn't too tight so Obanai concluded he was forgiven. "Whatever brat. I'm going to send these letters off and come back to rest. Polish both blades before I return."

Agatsuma abruptly sat back up, gaping at him. But by the time he managed to blubber out how long and tedious the process was and how he he'd worked on the roof already, Obanai was out the door, both letters in hand.

---------------------------------------------

When he made it back, soft music coming from their shared room greeted him in sorrow.

Soft hauntingly cutting melody that filled the air in a way that was almost suffocating. Obanai paused by the door, fingers resting on the wall next to it as he listened. There was no doubt the kid was talented. There was no doubt his music was speaking of something the kid couldn't quite voice out loud yet. Obanai sighed.

Closing his eyes, he pressed his back against wall, sliding down, listening, waiting.

The music fluttered around him in gliding notes. Each one heavier than the last. Each one sadder, pained. It was as if the music itself was speaking to Obanai, speaking of old hurt, old comfort, old history. It pierced his core and squeezed.

His eyes burned for a second.

Why did the brat have to be talented at the most useless of skills.

Giving himself until the end of the song to sit there and breathe, Obanai allowed Kaburamaru to press up against his bandages in a comforting gesture. A comforting gesture he didn't quite need but would accept tonight, just this once.

When the music eventually came to a stop and prolonged silence followed, the snake pillar finally stood up and without a word of warning, flung open the door and stepped it. The kid startled; turning away from him quickly to wipe at his face.

Obanai didn't comment on it.

But he thought on it.

He thought that maybe the kid wasn't doing so well as he pretended he was. And was that a surprise? After everything they'd been through in this short span of time, coupled with the kid's own crippling baggage, no wonder he was still breaking down every two seconds.

"Be more alert, brat," he snapped, instead of unpacking the sudden urge he had to flick the kid's stupid forehead and tell him to stop playing dumb music that made him sad. "You should have heard me come in."

Agatsuma sniffled in what he likely thought was a discreet way before shrugging. "I couldn't hear you." When the snake pillar glared, mismatched eyes narrowing, the brat hurried to continue. "Honest! There is this buzzing noise all over this place. I can't hear a thing if I'm not concentrating real hard."

What?

"What?"

The kid shrugged again before looking out of the dark window as if he could see something in the distance. "I think it's coming from all over. It's honestly really soothing." he smiled.

Yeah, that wasn't suspicious at all.

Obanai strode towards the window and stared, eyes scanning the horizon and musing into the darkness of the night. He didn't remember the last time a demon slayer had passed through this village but as far as he could tell; having taken a quick look around after sending the letters, it was a rather peaceful village if not boring in its design and people. Still, he frowned. He'd keep an eye out, just in case.

"Sleep," he said, moving away from the window and pulling off his haori. "Bed now," he snapped when the kid didn't scramble up and do as told immediately.

"But it's barely past midnight," the kid whined, pulling the flute to his chest and staring up at him as if his disgustingly watery eyes would sway the snake pillar. "Pretty please?"

Setting his outer layers aside, noting with mild approval the polished blades by the desk, Obanai sat down, crossing his legs. "We'll take a look around the town and see the festival as promised." His lips tugged into a sneer, eyes glaring. "But I'll pack up right now and drag you out of this village if you keep annoying me. Understood damn brat?"

The kid yelped, throwing himself back on his futon. Obanai snorted.

Idiot.

----------------------------------------

The next day, they found themselves in the kitchen on the first floor with Hiko-Sama. The orphanage was rundown thing. Located almost quarter mile outside of the village limits and money looked to be tight from the way the old woman had jumped at having them run around to be helping hands.

Obanai was settling the table, only paying half an ear to the animated conversation between Agatsuma and the old woman. It was obvious her tale of woes was getting to the kid by the way his voice was wobbling and his hands were fluttering around the woman as if to comfort but also not quite knowing if he should. Obanai bit back a snort. Pathetic bratling. Kaburamaru hissed at him. Obanai rolled his eyes.

"And no one wants to adopt them?"

The old woman sighed deeply, the noise rattling in her chest, making the snake pillar wince in sympathy. "They're the unwanted children of this village. Most of them have one ailment or the other and no one wants to take on that kind of burden. "She sighed again. "Not with the economy being the way it is right now. Things are hard." She was clutching at a washcloth, lips pursed and eyes oh so sad. Agatsuma looked a second away from crumbling to the ground wailing, so Obanai coughed loudly making his way back into the kitchen.

"All set," he said gruffly," nodding at the table. "Breakfast ready?"

Wiping at her eyes as discreet as Agatsuma the night before, Hiko-Sama smiled shakingly up at him. "Yes dear," she said. "Yes it is. Why don't you call the children downstairs?"

Nodding, the snake pillar stepped into the kitchen, grabbing the first two dishes in reach and turned towards a confused Agatsuma. "Well?" he said, walking past him. "Go get the kids, kid."

"Wah- Wait…. Me?" Agatsuma walked at his heels. "Hiko-Sama told you--"

"And I told you," Obanai said, voice low. "I hate kids. I refuse to interact with them unless strictly necessary. Get them."

"Why am I not surprised," Agatsuma hissed back in an even lower voice. "You're so mean, senpai."

Setting down the first bowls of steaming rice and plates of vegetables, Obanai scoffed. "This should not be news to you by now."

Letting out a frustrated huff, the kid turned his back to him and stomped his way up the stairs; Hiko-Sama's stern telling off quickly softening his steps.

Obanai smirked, scarred lips pulling at the bandages. Pathetic.

This victory was short lived however as he was quickly saddled with washing the pot and pans Hiko-Sama had used to make breakfast. He cursed internally, arms elbow deep in warm soapy water.

This is why the Corps should have Wisteria hospitality in every village.

---------------------------------------------------

The kids were annoying, as expected. But----

Loud, screeching, asking too many questions, being too curious. Thankfully Hiko-Sama who'd quickly picked upon his sheer aversion to children had averted most of the question from him, but------

When she'd told them that the reason why he was covering half his face wasn't for them to know if Obanai didn't wish to share….the kids had just nodded, looking at each other with eyes far older than they had any right to be.

And wasn't that something. Wasn't that the kind of tragedy even a man like Iguro Obanai could be saddened by?

There were twelve kids here in total. Some of them had visible ailments; missing fingers, broken teeth, scarred faces. While others' pain were reflected in their eyes instead. Old, aching suffering burning through their gaze as they nodded at him in understanding when he'd refused to answer the youngest little girl's question of why he wasn't taking his bandages off to eat. Another little one had even offered to help him take his breakfast upstairs. "Mirio-kun never eats with us either," he'd said with a shrug, a cheek splitting grin growing on his face, lips pulling at an old burn that stretched from his neck to the lower half of his chin. "So it's okay."

His name was Shizuo and, he reminded Obanai of a friend. Of Kyojuro Rengoku.

"It's fine," he found himself saying. "I'll sit with you. I do not feel the need to eat at the moment."

Shizuo nodded back at him, giving him a thumps up. "That's okay! Whenever you wanna leave though. Don't feel pressured to stick around just cuz we think you're super cool!"

Yeah, these kids were annoying. They were loud and asked too many questions, but----- they also had eyes too old for their little bodies. Scars that spoke of horrors and nightmares that gave them an understanding children their age should never be capable off.

"Wow, what's that?" one of the children asked suddenly, breaking him out of his thoughts as she pointed at the flute in the brat's hands.

They'd taken to Agatsuma quite easily and him to them, for he was now showing off the flute proudly. Boosting about how talented he was. Which only resulted in Obanai slapping him over the head. Cracking the kids up and make the bratling pout.

"I'm that talented," Agatsuma exclaimed, pulling the flute to his lips. "And I'll prove it."

This time the song was cheerful. It was a bright, skipping tune that had the kids cheering.

When he was done they cheered even louder. "Sucks Mirio-Kun is missing out," said a dark haired girl who'd sat at the farthest corner in the beginning but had now made her way over into the middle of the circle surrounding Agatsuma.

"We can visit him and tell him all about it after he wakes up!" Shizuo said loudly, slapping the girl on the back and making her double over. "Don't worry!"

"Wanna hear another song?" Agatsuma asked, the sheer joy around him now loud enough to drown any darkness. Silently, Obanai admitted to himself that happiness suited the kid well.

The children nodded eagerly, and the kid began to play again. The children listened in rapt attention, their eyes sparkling with wonder.

Obanai who'd been in the process of walking out, stopped and turned back to watch for a moment, shoulders relaxing unconsciously with each note before he stepped out. Not sparing the applauding crowd another glance.

"Can you play some more?" he heard one of the kid's ask.

"Sure. Just a little more," Agatsuma answered, before launching into another melody.

'In another lifetime,'Obanai mused, walking outside and closing his eyes against the sunlight, faint music reaching his ears. Perhaps Agatsuma Zenitsu would have used his hands to make music for little kids rather than wield a blade.

A nice thought.

Chapter Text

The sun hovered brightly in the sky as Zenitsu and Obanai made their way towards the exit of the orphanage. The snake pillar had no particular feelings towards anything to do with the festival, especially since the thing hadn't even been set up yet, but the idiot kid hadn't been able to sit still for more than a minute so now here they were, about to satisfy his curiosity.

Obanai sighed. Maybe he was being far too lenient with the brat lately. But, tracing his eyes over the smiling blonde next to him, he narrowed his gaze. Agatsuma wasn't crying, wasn't hyperventilating, wasn't collapsing in on himself. If he could just keep him that way until the pillar meeting-

He sighed again, even louder this time, making the kid turn towards him with a question on his lips. An unspoken question that was immediately met with a glare of thousand suns. The kid promptly clamped his mouth shut. Good. Just because Obanai had decided for some ridiculous reason to treat the kid with kid gloves for the time being, didn't mean he was forsaking his own peace.

They'd only set a foot outside the orphanage when they were approached by Hiko-sama. The little old lady had a warm smile on her face, eyes twinkling with mischief as she brightly regarded Agatsuma.  "Ah, there you are!," she said, drying her hands with a dish towel. "I've been looking for you two." Here, the smile on her face widened even further, creating shadows within the wrinkles framing her cheeks. Obanai narrowed his eyes ever so slightly.

"Did you need something, Hiko-sama," he muttered, tilting his head away from the hissing snake on his shoulders. Kaburamaru really did not like him being so short with the elderly. Obanai didn't see the issue. He wasn’t being impolite.

"I couldn't help but admire the beautiful music you were playing, Zenitsu, my dear," she said, winking conspiringly at Obanai as if they shared some kind of understanding at that moment. Obanai blinked back at her; confusion furrowing his brows. Shaking her head at him, Hiko-sama continued. "You're quite talented with that flute of yours."

Agatsuma blushed, face turning bright red. Looking like a mixture of embarrassment and pride were warring for victory across his face. Pride eventually won and he puffed his chest out and grinned. The snake pillar pinched the bridge of his nose. If the old woman hadn't been standing in front of him, he'd be slapping the kid upside the head for the arrogance. He hadn't worked this hard to keep his feet on the ground for the woman to come in and bloat that ego.

Kaburamaru hissed again in displeasure. Oh for---

When had his partner stopped siding with him. Obanai couldn't remember the last time he and Kaburamaru had agreed on something. His companion falling deeper and deeper into the den of Agatsuma delusions. Patting the creature on the head, Obanai stepped around Agatsuma, giving the old woman a polite nod as he made his way outside. He refused to be part of a conversation this useless.

"Thank you, ma'am," he heard the kid say, likely bowing ferociously with the way his voice was cracking as he babbled on. Pathetic. Pathetic and predictable. At least he had some respect left in him, Obanai mused. 

Hiko-sama's words were soft when she spoke next, but the demon slayer still caught it where he'd taken a seat on the grounds outside the orphanage, fingers curling around his sword, thump brushing over where he'd hidden the letter from Kuwajima-sama.

"Now, listen here," the old lady said. "The festival of light is coming up soon. It's a beautiful celebration we hold here every year around this time and it last for four days. There the most talented of our people perform and awe the rest. I think," here she paused, likely having the kid on a hook with her animated voice and cheerful tone. "You ought to take part in it. You could play your flute for all the townspeople. They would love it."

A quiet sort of silence ensued. Kaburamaru hissed, Obanai pressed his thumb even harder against the leather under which the letter resided. He could feel the searcher gaze of the kid on his back. The unsureness, the eager anticipation. He sighed for what felt like the umpteenth time. He didn't look back but he allowed his shoulders to pull up into a careless shrug. "Do whatever the hell you want brat."

Hiko-sama's voice turned conspiratorially. "I'll even make sure you have a prime spot in the festival. What do you say?"

The hesitation within the kid was palpable. For a moment he didn't say anything, his gaze still squarely drilling into Obanai's back. Kaburamaru hissed. 'Yeah,' the snake pillar mused, 'the poor sucker still looks for guidance in me, even for the most irrelevant things. Idiot is growing too dependent. That won't do. That won't do at all.'

"Okay, I'll do it," Agatsuma finally said, his voice a little uncertain, breaking Obanai out of his thoughts.

Hiko-sama clapped her hands with delight. "Wonderful! I knew you would. Now, you two had better get on your way. The festival is just a few days away, and you'll want to practice your music."

'Just wonderful', Obanai frowned down at his sword. He'd promised to let the bratling do whatever he wanted until the letter from Ubuyashiki-sama arrived, but wasn't this just a bit too much? Sure he couldn't handle another mental breakdown from the kid. But what about his own inevitable mental breakdown if he let the bratling do this?

Before he could despair even further within his thoughts, Agatsuma bounded over to him, giving him a searching look, followed by an uncertain little smile when all Obanai did was stand up and start walking.

"Let's go brat," he snapped. "You wanted to see the town square, did you not?"

The squeal of happiness nearly made his ears bleed.

Obanai truly within his heart of hearts regretted ever taking responsibility for this kid. "You're going to be the death of me," he grumbled under his breath.

Kaburamaru hissed.

"Oh shut it snake."

------------------------------------------------

A sense of trepidation mixed with Obanai's feeling of annoyance as they weaved their way through the crowds. The noise and bustle of the overly excited towns people gritting on his nerves long before they even made it to the square.

Still, for some reason, he couldn't quite shake this feeling of 'not right' and it served to set him on edge and increase his annoyance ten folds. 

Unfortunately, he seemed to be the only one of the three to hate this entire experience as Kaburamaru had relocated onto Agatsuma's shoulders and the two of them were now darting back and forth through the stalls, head tilting this way and that in amazement at every little colour and noise.

As they walked further through the bustling streets, Agatsuma's eyes grew even wider, as if that was possible. The wonder in his gaze catching on the colorful decorations that adorned the buildings and streets. Lanterns of every shape and size hung from the buildings, and there were vendors selling all manner of treats and trinkets.

Agatsuma forced them to stop and watch a group of performers rehearsing a dance, his eyes alight with fascination. The snake pillar couldn't help rolling his eyes, feeling impatient and irritated. The weather was cold, just the way he preferred it, but the jostling of bodies got on his nerves and the sweet aroma in the air coming from the booths made his nose scrunch and stomach turn. Oh how he hated happy humans.

"Haven't you had enough," he hissed, tugging once at the kid's sleeve to drag him away from a man eating fire. Absentmindedly his thoughts flashed to Kyojuro but he ruthlessly squashed it. How utterly disrespectful to imagine the flame Hashira at the sight of incompetence and parlor tricks. "Let's go."

But Agatsuma appeared to be determined to soak up as much of the pre-festive atmosphere as possible and remained stubborn in his whining about Obanai's promise.

Let this be a cautionary tale for him on how to not let yourself be swayed by guilt to give out disgusting good gestures to one's ward that should not be asking for them in the first place. 

Alas they kept wandering through the crowded streets, listening to the sounds of music and laughter. Children ran around, waving sparklers and squealing with delight. As the day wore on, Agatsuma grew more and more excited; how was that humanly possible? His eyes were shining with anticipation as he watched a man flip plates into the air. And the snake pillar couldn't help but feel a twinge of grudging admiration at the way the bratling was able to find joy in the most useless, simplest of things.

As the sun began to set, they made their way back to the orphanage. One exhausted, mood so foul it could sear the hair off one's head while the other was vibrating in place out of sheer happiness.

By the time they'd arrived at the old rundown building, Agatsuma had already started planning out the music he would play at the festival, his mind clearly buzzing with ideas as his mouth went off, spouting all kinds of nonsense.

The snake pillar was contemplating murder.

-------------------------------------

Obanai had just raised his hand to flick the kid's forehead when a crow swooped down, landing on his outstretched arm.

Ignoring the indignant yelp of the kid at realizing what the snake pillar was about to do, Obanai examined the familiar crow of Uzui carefully. For what was less of a second he'd stared in wonder, surprise flickering through his mismatched eyes. 'Had the Master replied this quickly?' But as soon as he'd taken in the silver beads hanging off of the bird's head, realization dawned.

Stretching his leg out, Nijimaru tilted his head. "Here," he crowed. "Read quickly so I can take flight while the breeze is still splendid."

Untying the tiny folded paper from the Kasugai's leg, Obanai lifted his hand up in the air, signaling for the bird to take leave which it did promptly, but not before nibbling at his ear in affection.

He scowled after him but let the obnoxious thing go without trying to take a swipe at him. After all, Uzui had done him a favour and he rather not agitate the stupid bird that came along with him in case he needed another favour again.

So with a frown, stepping away from the bratling for some semblance of privacy, he unfolded the paper and read.

To his relief, the message read: "Sensen~ is alive! He's reckless as ever, but he's okay for now."

Obanai let out a breath he didn't quite realize he was holding and leaned against the wall of the orphanage. He felt a sense of relief wash over him, knowing that the idiot was still out there kicking. God, sometimes it felt like Sanemi was the bane of all their existence. Why should he have to worry himself over a moron who couldn't even communicate properly with the kid brother he so obviously cared about.

'Idiot,' he thought with a scoff, folding the paper back up and stuffing it in his belt. He'd give it to Sanemi when they made again, just to watch his face contort into something ugly at the degrading nickname. The amusement he'd get from the ensuing brawl between the wind and sound pillar would hopefully lift his mood during the tedious pillar meeting.

"Everything okay, senpai?" Agatsuma asked, walking up to him, then circling him so he could stare at his face.

Nodding once, Obanai proceeded to flick his forehead, eliciting a soft 'ouch'. "Yeah, your friend's brother is still alive. Let him know next time you write to him."

He really ought to not use the brat to make sure little Shirazawa kept writing to his brother, but if this was the only way to keep the other alive, so be it.

Agatsuma looked at him with conflict. "Would that be okay? Weren't you saying yesterday that messages can be intercepted?"

Shaking his head while walking past the kid, Obanai scoffed, flicking his forehead again. "I didn't tell you to write his name, rank, and location on the damn thing, brat. Just write as vaguely as possible that he is alive. And," he said, turning around to look at the kid staring back at him. "I will look it over before you send it."

The kid nodded, understanding the weight behind his words. "Well, I'm glad he's okay. Genya doesn't like him much but he does love him I think, so I'm glad."

Obanai gave Agatsuma a small nod, appreciating the understanding. "Me too."

--------------------------------------------------

They'd just sat down to eat a late meal with the kids chattering away, table messy and their little faces even worse so, when Agatsuma suddenly froze.

"Oh no!" he exclaimed, slapping a hand to his forehead as chopsticks clanked against his bowl of rice, momentarily halting any conversation around the table. "I forgot to sign up for the festival!"

The snake pillar raised an eyebrow, feeling a sense of annoyance both at Agatsuma's forgetfulness and the irrelevancy of the entire thing. "What do you mean you forgot?" he asked. "We were there all afternoon. You could have signed up, anytime."

"I mean I forgot!" Agatsuma replied, a sense of panic rising on his face. "I was so busy looking around yesterday that I didn't realize I had to sign up. And hey," he frown petulantly at Obanai. "You forgot too Obanai-senpai!"

The Hashira scowled. "It is not my job to remember shit for you, brat. But now that you haven't signed up," he covered his smoked fish to eat later. "You can put this foolishness behind you and focus on the training we're starting back up tomorrow."

Agatsuma looked down at his feet, shame clouding his eyes. It was sickening. "Yeah," he mumbled, fingers making small circles on the table. "I guess you're right, senpai."

Secretly Obanai was glad he'd left Kaburamaru in their room. God know how much his bite would sting at the sight of the upset kid.

Just then, Hiko-sama appeared in the doorway of the dining area, a smile on her face and second helping of rice in both hands. "Now what's all the fuss about?"

The kids fell all over themselves trying to explain the Agatsuma predicament as his ward sat there, face beat red with embarrassment. "And Iguro-san is being super mean about it," Shizuo finished. "And that's not right."

Hiko-sama laughed. "I suppose it is not," she said, patting the kid on the head gently. "But that's neither here nor there." Turning to smile at Agatsuma, she continued. "Don't worry, my dear. The deadline isn't until tomorrow. You still have plenty of time to sign up."

The kid's face lit up with relief. "Really? Thank you so much, Hiko-sama!" But then he stilled, body drawing into itself as he glanced sideways at Obanai. "If that's okay, with you I mean. Senpai?"

Shrugging, Obanai closed his eyes, falling back into a meditative state. "Do what you want."

"Yes!" The kid exclaimed and then came Hiko-sama's gentle voice.

"Now hurry up and eat so you can get some sleep and hand in your application tomorrow. I have a feeling you're going to do great things at the festival."

Agatsuma practically skipped out of the room.

Obanai opened a single golden eye to watch him go, feeling a sense of irritation at the way Hiko-sama coddled the kid. But despite his overwhelming negative emotions towards the entire situation, he couldn't help but feel relief at how the kid had kept himself together so far. 'Just a little while longer,' he internally prayed. 'Just a little while longer.'

--------------------------------------------------

The sun had just set when everyone started clearing the table, Agatsuma having been assigned with washup duty this time. His grumbling and whining could be heard throughout the building.

"Children, it is time for bed," Hiko-sama announced, when the table was clear and all that was left was Obanai's meal which he would only eat when the rest were gone. "But before we go, I have a special treat for you all," here she smiled at the kids.

Producing a small box from under a low desk by the corner, she opened it, revealing a set of beautiful, hand-carved wooden toys. The children gasped in delight, reaching out to touch the intricate designs.

Obanai watched as Shizuo eagerly picked up a toy and examined it, his eyes shining with wonder. For a moment, Ob felt a sense of nostalgia, an old shattered feeling of a warm home, a smiling blonde with red-tipped hair, and a small wooden horse given to him by a man haggard with time; but eyes gentle enough to bring comfort to his heart.

Blinking the old memory furiously away, the snake pillar swallowed thickly, face turning away from the scene.

The old memories Yui-sama and Shinjuro-san messed with still came to him to this day. They came in fragments and shattered remains but they still came. He'd thought he'd remembered everything that night. Laying there, blood, gore, death, a dead friend on top of him. He'd thought his brain had been split in two, memories spilling out like rivers of blood drenching him in the stench of the past. But, he hadn't remembered it all. Not really. Not everything. Never everything. So when the fragments came now---- Little irrelevant moments of kindness, of jokes, of playful brawls and gruff scoldings. Little moments. When they came, it shattered a piece of him that he'd just managed to patch back together. And it hurt. It hurt so damn much.

So, as the kids took their gifts; gifts the old lady must likely had saved up for for what was probably a year, and scrambled out of the room to get some sleep, Obanai finally let his shoulders drop from their hunched position. Hiko-sama patted his back as she left and little while later, Agatsuma yawned loudly, saying a quiet goodnight as he too made his way upstairs. In a few minutes, Obanai was left by himself at the table, just like he'd wanted.

He wondered what the Rengoku family were doing at this moment.

He wondered if Kyojuro was going to make the meeting.

He wondered if they missed him sometimes.

He wondered.

Chapter Text

Obanai sat alone at the long dining table, his untouched plate of dinner growing cold. The bustling sounds of the orphanage had quieted down, as the other children had already retired for the night. It was the only time he had to himself, a few precious moments of solitude before he faced the restless sleep that often haunted him.

With a sigh, Obanai reached up to loosen the bandages that tightly encircled his mouth. The fabric had become suffocating after a long day. But just as he was about to unwind them, the soft creak of the dining hall door caught his attention.

A young boy with a bandage over one eye, timidly entered the room. His presence surprising the snake pillar, as he'd been so lost in thought he hadn't even noticed anyone else walking towards him before the kid showed up.

Obanai observed the boy with detached curiosity. 'Why was he up this late?' But when the child only seemed to shuffle in place, fingers playing with the hem of his worn-down shirt, the pillar looked away, tightening his bandages once more. "You're usually not here during dinner, are you?" He asked, voice casual. He didn't recognize him so Obanai concluded he must be the sickly child  Shizuo had been talking about. "Mirio?"

Mirio startled, looking up at him with one wide-eye gaze, almost as if he hadn't expected Obanai to know who he was. The snake pillar put his chopsticks back, inwardly annoyed by the interruption to his solitary routine. "What are you doing here child?"

The kid shuffled closer, his gaze fixed on the floor. "I... I couldn't sleep. And I thought... maybe I could find something to eat?" The last words ended in a tilt of insecurity and it nearly made the flair of annoyance within Obanai grow into outward irritation. He'd had enough interactions with children for the day, but he bit it down and took a slow, calming breath. It was but a child and if he could deal with Agatsuma on daily basis, he could handle a child who'd clearly had had a rough time of it.

Obanai studied the boy's tired frame. "Eat," he commanded, shoving his own untouched dinner across the table. "But don't,"  he added when the kid tentatively reached out. "Make a mess."

The last words were harsh in nature, making the kid cringe. Obanai didn't feel much guilt. He was too tired to feel much of anything and children he didn't like did not make him feel anything but frustration. Still, "Just eat. you'll need the energy," he sighed. For the kid was pale, his body shivering where he stood across from him trying to disappear within himself, white hair matted hiding half his face.

Mirio nodded but didn't meet Obanai's eyes as he gingerly sat down; hesitation written across his entire frame. He glanced at Obanai's bandages, looked away, then glanced up again, his own tiny fingers brushing his covered eye. "Why do you wear those?" He blurted out and Obanai's eyes narrowed.

"It's none of your business," he snapped.

Mirio's shoulders slumped, hurt evident in his single eye. A twinge of what suspiciously felt like guilt flashed through him but Obanai bit it back. Damn that lightening brat for making him soft. "I meant, it is nothing for you to concern yourself with," he bit out, trying to make his voice less hostile. "So just forget about it."

The  kid's voice trembled slightly but unfortunately he seemed to want to persist. "But," he said, fingers stilling on the chopsticks. "It's hard to forget something when it's right in front of you."

'Oh for the love of-' Obanai's brows furrowed, a flicker of anger flickering across his face. This is why he did not like children. They dug and dug and dug, not realizing what they were poking their fingers into was flesh and blood and so much rot it sicked the senses. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he spoke again. Voice distant and guarded this time." It's a reminder," he said slowly. "A reminder of things I'd rather forget. Reminder of things that rest heavily on my shoulders. So, stop prying."

Something unreadable flashed through the kid's eye and his expression turned solemn. "I understand... sorry for bothering you." His fingers pressed against his own bandages again, fingertips trailing the white material. "I didn't mean to pry, I just thought-" He didn't finish his sentences, just looked down and began eating again.

Obanai grunted, not offering any acknowledgment. The conversation lapsed into an uncomfortable silence, broken only by the sound of Mirio's hesitant chewing. His bites were small, his hands trembling the entire time. With each scoop of rice, he appeared to look even sicker, as if he was battling with the food itself to force it down. A flair of pity ran through the snake pillar and he elected to sit the rest of the meal with the kid.

As Mirio finally finished his meal in silence, Obanai stood up to clear the table, observing the kid through the corner of his eye as he stood up next to him quickly just to dry the plates.

'At least this brat isn't whining at me,' he mused. 'That is something.'

While he preferred his own company, a part of him recognized the significance of providing some solace to a lonely child. It was a grudging act of kindness, driven more by obligation than genuine care. For he didn't have much genuine care for anyone other than his select few and he would keep it that way. Mitsuri, Kyojuro and Sanemi. They were enough. It was simpler and easier. Unlike Mitsuri he didn't love everyone and anything that breathed, that would just be downright exhausting.

Still, perhaps, in this odd pairing he formed with Agatsuma, of distant protector and broken companion, perhaps they could find some semblance of comfort in that.

"Go to sleep," he said when they were finished washing, voice much calmer now, mood slightly better. "I shall clean the rest."

The kid gave him a searching look before he nodded and stepped back. "Thanks," he muttered and then skuttled off.

Obanai walked back to the table to wipe it clean.

He sighed almost mournfully.

He'll get himself an early breakfast tomorrow.

------------------------------------

The next day dawned, and with it came a sense of buzzing and crackling energy that instantly gave one Obanai a raging headache. Agatsuma's anticipation filed the air like a persistent mosquito, making the snake pillar groan as he reluctantly roused from his sleep, already dreading the day ahead.

He knew what Agatsuma would be buzzing about as soon as he approached him and sure enough-

Without warning, the idiot kid burst back into their room, his boundless energy jolting Obanai fully awake. "Obanai-senpai, let's go sign up for the festival!" he exclaimed, his voice more grating to the ears than usual.

Scowling the snake pillar's eyes narrowed; Kaburamaru twisting himself around his hand to stop him from reaching for his blade. "Not so fast, brat," he grumbled, exhaustion making his tone even more brittle. "We've got work to do first."

Agatsuma's face fell instantly, his excitement deflating like a punctured balloon. He stared at him, confusion mixed with a hint of hurt etched on his youthful face. "What work?"

Sitting up, Obanai reached down for his bandages, securing them firmly around the lower part of his face before stretching. Then his eyes finally fully opened and he stared back at the kid with firmness he felt too exhausted to hold onto for too long. Still, his voice dripped with impatience as he spoke. "The work we promised Hiko-sama we'd do in exchange for boarding. You finished the damn roof last time, but there is still cleaning up the yard, and all that pointless nonsense left."

The kid's shoulders slumped, his gaze dropping to the floor as disappointment washed over his frame. He seemed to struggle to hide his wounded happiness, but all Obanai did in response was throw his shoe at his head making the kid yelp in surprise and draw back. "Stop sulking brat," he snapped, trying and failing not to yawn. "Get to work."

"But senpai," the kid whined, eyes filling with unshed tears. "I want to play in the festival!"

Obanai huffed, his frustration barely contained. "I know what you want, kid. But we made a commitment, and you're not getting out of it. Fixing up this decrepit place is part of your damn training. And you," he raised his other shoe in warning, making the kid scramble back. "Do as I say. Understood?"

Clenching his fists, the kid nodded sharply. It was obvious the urge to retort bubbled inside him the way his jaw flexed and his bottom lip jutted out but he wisely appeared to decide against such foolishness. 'Good,' Obanai thought. 'At least he's learning.'

The kid, kicking the floor in one last bratty rebellion muttered under his breath, his words a barely audible protest against Obanai's stern authority. But he didn't protest any louder or any further.

Good.

"Get going," the pillar said, waving the kid away when the muttered cursing finally ceased. "But get dressed before you head outside again," frowning at the kid's bed wear, Obanai scrunched his nose. "You look absolutely ridiculous."

Reluctantly, Agatsuma dragged himself towards his clothes and begrudgingly began getting dressed, his movements slow and heavy with disappointment. The snake pillar got out of his futon, and prepared himself for the upcoming day as well.

Shaking his head at the futile muttering of the kid, he couldn't help the mixture of annoyance and something strangely resembling amusement, settling in his chest. 'What an idiot.'

As they stepped outside, the dilapidated state of the orphanage came into full view. The cracked walls and peeling paint mocked their ambitious goal, as if taunting them to give up. Obanai let out a heavy sigh, resigned to the fact that there was always something not going quite right for him.

Hours passed, with Agatsuma and him working side by side, their labor a symphony of grunts and clattering tools. Long stretches of silence, only broken whenever Hiko-sama came over with refreshments or the kids returned from their play time outside and greeted them with cheers.

Briefly Obanai wondered how the Mirio kid was doing where he was bedridden, unable to play with the other kids, but that quickly went out of mind when Agatsuma nearly managed to hit him over the head with a hammer. The brat got a slap over the head for it, something he was still whining about an hour after the fact. Why hadn't Obanai abandoned him again? Oh yeah, Kuwajima-sama. Damn that old fool and everything Obanani owed him. 

Still, the occasional gruff instructions from the snake pillar were met with Agatsuma's earnest efforts, and as the repairs neared completion, a sense of satisfaction permeated the air around Obanai.

Eventually he turned to the kid, his dirtied face developing softer lines for a fleeting moment. "Good job, brat," he huffed, his praise as rare as a shooting star. "You're not completely useless after all. Starting to learn what it means to be responsible I guess."

A flicker of a smile tugged at Agatsuma's lips, relief and pride lighting up his eyes. His temporary feud with him washing away with the little piece of acknowledgement given to him.

It was honestly quite sad, Obanai mused, turning away and brushing his sweaty hair out of his overheated forehead.

Unlike Agatsuma, he did not take to physical labor as easily. His smaller body and fragile physique thanks to his years of captivity made the task of hardworking labor nearly torturous for him but he gritted his teeth and endured. He would not keel over. Especially not when his stupid student was working with all the determination of a bull.

As the day drew to a close and their tasks were finally mostly completed, Obanai voice took on a steel edge hiding bone deep exhaustion. "Alright, kid. You did your part. Now go sign up for that damn festival."

Agatsuma's face immediately beamed with gratitude and excitement. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" He exclaimed; the setting sun behind him illuminating his smile into an almost glow. His feet carried him away from the garden, rushing through the gates and towards the festival registration table as if he were walking on air. Obanai watched him go, shoulders finally slumping and breath coming out ragged and hoarse.

Stupid kid,

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The snake pillar sat on the steps of the orphanage, sweat glistening on his brow, taking a much-needed break from the repairs he'd continued with and just completed. The sun seared its way down the orange sky and he found himself leaning against the hard step behind him, sighing in what almost felt like contentment. He hated feeling weak. Hated how his body betrayed him at times, but after sending the bratling off, he'd finally managed to pace himself better and while the old lady had urged him to stop for the day, he'd refused. Gritting his teeth and forcing himself to finish for he knew this was not something he'll likely convince himself to repeat another day. Now as he sat outside, watching the sun set, hearing the kids laugh and shout as they prepare for their late meal, he felt, content.

Soon enough that relaxed calm was broken by the approaching steps of Agatsuma, the kid's grin a mirror of satisfaction. 'He must have managed to sign up in time.' Obanai internally huffed.

Maybe now the kid would stop pestering him about the damn thing for the rest of the week leading up to it. Eyes subconsciously scanning he kid's frame for anything unusual, he found nothing and his shoulders relaxed the tiniest of fractions. Still, his gaze zeroed in on the kid's left ear, he called out.

"Hey, brat. Let me take a look at that." Pointing to the partially bandaged ear; likely having loosed over a day's hard work, he beckoned the kid over.

Agatsuma only hesitated for a second; fingers going up to his ear and lips pursed as if he'd wanted to protest, before making his way over.

Removing the bandage to reveal the healing wound. Obanai examined it, his touch gentle against the torn tissue as he assessed the progress.

"It's healing up fine," he concluded; what's left of the ear having stitched itself together nicely. "Keep cleaning it like I showed you, and it'll hopefully heal up enough in the next two weeks so you can finally take this off." Expertly re-bandaging Agatsuma's ear, he pushed the kid away from him and stretched his arms with a satisfied pop.

A grateful smile spread across the kid's face, his admiration for him sickeningly evident in his gaze. "Thanks, senpai," he said, lips wide and eyes shining. "You always know what to do."

The snake pillar shrugged off the compliment, his gruff demeanor back in place. "Don't get used to it, kid. You gotta learn to take care of yourself."

Agatsuma nodded, his eyes unwavering as they met Obanai's. "I know, senpai. That's why I'm grateful you're teaching me."

Letting out a deep sigh, he flicked the kid's forehead eliciting a familiar 'ouch!'

Exasperation and a reluctant sense of responsibility settled within Obanai as he observed the idiot try and sooth his hurt. "Yeah, well, let's grab some lunch. We've still got a mountain of training to get done before I'll let you participate in that festival," he said, standing up and brushing his pants; refusing to acknowledge the shakiness in his own hands. "

"Okay," the brat exclaimed, bouncing after him; good mood back once more. "I'm starving.

As they made their way towards the makeshift dining area, Agatsuma's steps light and eager, the snake pillar couldn't quite help feeling of wrongness that settled over him.

--------------------------------------------------

The next morning, before the sun had fully risen, Obanai was already up and about, rousing Agatsuma from his slumber. Rubbing his eyes and stifling a yawn, the kid followed his lead as they made their way outside to the open field adjacent to the orphanage. The grass glistened with dew, and a cool breeze whispered through the air, carrying the promise of a grueling day. Something the kid had whined about nonstop the night before.

"Get your sword, kid," The snake pillar ordered, placing Kaburamaru far away from what would soon be their training ground. Which was a little meadow a couple of miles from the orphanage. "Quickly now," he added, his voice still thick with sleep. "We don't have time for you messing around before we even start." Leaning against a gnarled tree trunk, his arms folded across his chest.

Agatsuma nodded, a determined set to his mouth, despite the unease in his eyes as he hurriedly retrieved his trusted sword, fastening it to his belt. He joined Obanai at the center of the field in less than a minute, ready for whatever training lay ahead.

Casting a critical eye over the kid's posture, he nodded in satisfaction before gesturing for him to unsheathe his sword. "We're going back to the basics," he stated. "I want to see if you still got those core techniques etched in your memory."

The bratling swallowed thickly, gripping his sword tightly, gaze sharpening. "I won't disappoint you," he declared with all the confidence of a scared rabbit. "I haven't forgotten anything!"

Obanai only tilted his head in acknowledgment. "We'll just have to wait and see won't we," he said, a single eyebrow raised. "If you disappoint me, you're skipping dinner." A terrified yelp was his response but he elected to ignore it. Instead, he began to walk Agatsuma through each technique, his own movements sharp and precise. Demonstrating each move himself, he then had Agatsuma replicate them, over and over again. They delved into the basic stances, thrusts, and blocks, their swords slicing through the air with calculated grace.

With each repetition, the kid's muscles seemed to strain and burn; his face looking pinched and yet he pushed himself further, refusing to falter.

The rigidity in Obanai's countenance began to let up ever so slightly, his harsh criticism coming few and far in between as he observed the brat give it his all. The snake pillar didn't let on, but he was proud of the brat at this very moment.

It was hard to see his painfully slow progress when one spent every day with him but it was times like these when it truly dawned on Obanai how far the kid had truly come. Any other time before this he would have been sobbing on the ground, crushed by self-doubt. But now? Sweat trickled down his chin, his mouth was set in a grimace, his sword cutting through the air in a full extended swing. His resolve was admirable.

"Keep it up," He barked. "Do not leave yourself open like that."

The kid nodded, doing as he was told.

Obanai smirked. "I guess you haven't forgotten." He said. "I stand corrected." For the first time in what felt like forever, he was unable to suppress a rare hint of approval in his tone and the kid must have heard it for he shot up into a rigid stance, lips forming the widest smile humanity had ever witnessed.

"Thank you senpai! I've been training on the forms whenever I had break!"

Huffing out a dry laugh, the snake pillar clapped Agatsuma on the back, the impact nearly reverberating through the younger's body. "I can see that. Your form is improving. You're getting the hang of it."

The kid beamed, a sense of pride and accomplishment swelling from his chest through his eyes. "Thanks, Obanai-senpai! I couldn't have done it without your help!"

The snake pillar scoffed; reaching out threateningly to flick the kid's forehead and watching in satisfaction as he flinched away. "Of course I know that," he snapped. "Don't state the obvious. And don't let it get to your head. We're not finished yet. You've barely started anything of note."

And just like that, Obanai plunged them into another round of training, pushing the bratling to his very limits. The sound of clashing steel echoed across the field, interwoven with their grunts and the occasional admonition from the snake pillar.

As the sun climbed higher in the sky, casting a golden hue over the training ground, Agatsuma's determination began to falter and Obanai knocked the blade out of his hand, sheathing his own. "That is enough for today," he said. "Now go. I need to get my own training in."

The response from the kid was to crumble to the ground and pass out.

------------------------------------------------

Obanai sighed. This is why he never praised losers. It just ended in disaster.

Glaring at Kaburamaru as the snake hissed at him in what almost echoed for a laughter, he fastened Agatsuma's sword on his other hip and then leaned down to scoop up the unconscious deadweight. "I should just toss him into a river," he scoffed, pausing ever so slightly to let Kaburamaru clip on his shoulders. The snake only hissed at his words making the pillar scowl even more. "You think I'm joking don't you?" he asked, eyebrow twitching. Kaburamaru laughed at him again.

Ten minutes of walking later; the warning hisses of his friend fell on deaf ears, and Obanai dropped the deadweight in the shallow river running through the forest.

A screeching noise of surprise and tearful shouting of betrayal later and Obanai wondered if proving a point was really worth dragging a sopping wet child along by the back of the shirt as he threw a tantrum while your snake friend snickered in your ear.

This is why he hated children.

------------------------------------------

Obanai wandered through the narrow streets of the village, lost in the labyrinth of his own thoughts. Having sent the bratling off to practice his flute music as a jaw clenching apology, he was now out wandering the town with nothing better to do but hope he heard back from the Master soon. So he could put an end to this entire nightmare.

Shadows danced across his face as he contemplated the weight of the secret he wished to fully disclose to his fellow pillars without codes and vagueness and the uncertain path that lay before all of them. The weight of responsibility pressed heavily upon his lean shoulders, a burden he had shouldered along with every other responsibility he'd taken upon himself recently.

Suddenly, a mournful cry shattered the stillness, cutting through the snake pillar's reverie. He turned his gaze towards the source of the sound, his eyes falling upon a woman huddled next to a lifeless body. Her anguished sobs filling the air, piercing through the fabric of the village's tranquility.

Approaching the scene cautiously, Obanai's toneless voice broke the silence. "Excuse me, what happened here?" His eyes scanned the not so lifeless figure at a closer look; but heavily bleeding man and the grief-stricken woman beside him.

The woman's tear-filled eyes met Obanai's, her voice trembling with sorrow. "My husband has been stabbed. Someone attacked him and ran off," she sobbed, her voice choked with pain as she pressed both hands against the fatal wound on her husband's chest.

A surge of adrenaline coursed through the snake pillar's veins as he assessed the gravity of the situation. Time was of the essence if there was any hope of saving the man's life. "Stay here with him. I'll fetch a medic," he ordered, his voice laced with urgency as he turned and sprinted towards the nearest medical practitioner.

He returned swiftly after crashing through the doors of an old man, said old man now accompanying him in a hurry. The man was a seasoned doctor who wasted no time in tending to the wounded man. Hours stretched into eternity as he worked tirelessly, his skilled hands striving to breathe life back into the fading embers of hope. But fate, cruel and unforgiving, had already snuffed out the man's light.

With heavy hearts, Obanai; who'd been trying to assist the best way he could and the doctor stood in silence, their gazes fixed upon the woman's shattered world. Words felt inadequate in the face of such profound loss. Bu….. But Obanai understood in a way. Not fully, never fully, but he understood the power of presence, of being there when no words could bridge the chasm of grief.

He'd done it before. For a young blonde kid not too long ago. And a bright flame hair of a family had done the same for him many many years ago. And now here he was again. Standing on the edge of someone else's grief.

He settled beside the grieving woman, his calloused hand gently enveloping hers.

Touching her sent shudders of disgust down his spine. He did not like touching strangers. But he held it in, for her sake. The weight of her sorrow echoing within his own soul, and in that moment, the distinction between protector and protected blurred. They sat in shared silence, her in her sadness and him in his contemplation.

Volunteers had come over by now and along with the doctor had moved the body out of sight. It was likely to be prepared for a funeral in the next couple of days. 

As he sat with the weeping woman; the death grip she had on his hand making his bones creak and lips pull down in grimace, he wondered how he'd let himself be dragged into a situation like this.

But, the weight of his choices pressed upon him. And a sudden realization dawned—a realization born from the incessant voice of one Kyojuro Rengoku. A voice that cheerfully nagged at the depths of his consciousness. It was that all too familiar loud voice that had spurred him into this action to begin with, preventing him from turning a blind eye to the woman before him. For it did not concern him. This had nothing to do with demons. Just a random act of human violence and he had not signed up to deal with any of that, but-----

Compassion. A grace given by humans to fellow humans.

Obanai couldn't deny the indisputable mark the flame pillar had left upon hm. He couldn't find himself resenting him for it either.

Compassion in times of need.

"I'm sorry for your loss," He murmured, his voice as stilted as ever but he squeezed her hand nonetheless and the woman squeezed  it back.

That ought to be enough, right?

The woman turned her tear-streaked face towards him, gratitude and sorrow mingling in her eyes. "Thank you for trying to save him," she whispered, her voice trembling with appreciation for the futile but noble effort.

The snake pillar nodded.

Silence enveloped them once more. And Obanai, Obanai sat beside the woman. Sat beside her for as long as she needed to cry and for as long as she needed someone by her side.

"You don't….. You don't have to stay, you know?" she finally whispered, voice hoarse, body trembling.

Obanai knew that, of course he knew.

'What do you mean leave you?' A bright-eyed child with even brighter hair of flames and warmth exclaimed once upon a time, bringing his hands to cup another tiny child's bandaged cheeks. "You're crying aren't you? So I'm not going anywhere until we've cried together and started feeling better! I'll stay if you don't mind!"

So Obanai squeezed her shaking hand within his scarred one and shrugged; eyes fixed on the horizon. "I'll stay if you don't mind."

The nameless woman sobbed, mutterings of gratitude escaping her trembling lips and he kept on staring at the horizon, staying and waiting until the tears ran dry.

Chapter Text

Zenitsu hesitated outside Mirio's room, his hand lingering on the doorknob. The muffled sounds of coughing and wheezing seeping through the closed door, sending a pang of concern through his heart.

He didn't know the kid too well but Shizuo and all the other kids really liked him and Obanai-senpai didn't have bunch of negative things to say about him; only a few, so he clearly was a good kid. So with a determined resolve, he pushed the door open gently and stepped inside.

He nearly dropped the plate of dinner he was carrying, wincing with a hiss as he barely managed to save it. "Phew," he muttered to himself, fully stepping into the room.

There, he found Mirio curled up under the covers, his face pale and his body trembling. Zenitsu's breath caught in his throat, but he quickly composed himself. The younger boy's left eye appeared to have been rebandaged again and it made the thunder breather wince in sympathy. He knew how painful a healing injury could be.

"Hey, Mirio-kun," he said softly, trying to hide his worry as he approached him. "I heard you weren't feeling too well."

Mirio weakly lifted his head, his eyes meeting Zenitsu's with exhaustion that should never be found in the eye of someone that young. "Zenitsu-san? You came to visit?" he asked, his voice raspy and strained. Zenitsu nodded, a warm smile forming on his lips. "Of course I did! I couldn't leave you all alone like this could I. Besides," he added, lifting the tray up to eye level as he tried to smile even bigger. "Brought you dinner."

The kid only let out a soft grunt, curling even tighter around himself but his face softened in what Zenitsu chose to interpret as gratitude so he put the tray by the way side and crawled over to him. "It's okay," he said, carefully tucking the blanket around Mirio's shivering frame. "You can eat later."

Nodding once, the kid buried his face under the blanket, making Zenitsu cringe in sympathy.

He sat across from Mirio for a while, listening to him breath haltingly, brushing his hair out of his face every once in a while. He didn't know if that helped at all but----

'You're so freaking annoying,' Kaigaku-senpai muttered, making Zenitsu tear up. 'Stop that,' the older teen glared. 'You're just going to make your fever even worse.' And then he reached out and patted his hair. When Zenitsu let out a tiny content sigh, he snorted in disgust but his hand didn't move. Instead it brushed his hair out of his eyes and kept patting and patting until the rhythmic warmth lulled Zenitsu back to sleep. 'Stupid idiot,' he'd muttered, but his voice had been soft and ever so gentle.

Blinking away the tears that suddenly threated to brim at the corners of his eyes, Zenitsu kept brushing his fingers through the white hair, humming softly under his breath and the kid fell into the depths of sleep, soundly breathing even as his chest did not rise and fall as heavily as it should. 'Poor thing,' Zenitsu thought. 'He must be feel so awful.'

But eventually having grown bored of the repeated action, he let his eyes wander. Observing the little room he was currently in. It was located at the very back of the orphanage. It was a tiny rundown thing with no windows and barely what could be constituted as a door.

Him and Obanai really ought to start working indoors tomorrow and fix these things. No kid deserved to live like this. But just as he was about to let his eyes glide back over to the sleeping kid, he couldn't help but notice a collection of music sheets scattered nearby. His eyes lit up with curiosity and he found himself making his way towards the sheets, looking them over.

This is what Mirio woke up to after his short nap. "Zenitsu-san?"

Head shooting up from where he'd comfortable curled into a corner, music sheets scattered around him, Zenitsu grinned sheepishly at the yawning kid. "I see you enjoy music," he remarked, gesturing towards the sheets. "I play the flute myself now! Sometimes I practice in my room."

Mirio's eyes widened, a faint smile gracing his tired face. "Yes, I could hear you," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "Your music... it's beautiful. It brought me comfort when it was hard to sleep. When I felt sick and my stomach hurt."

Zenitsu's heart swelled with surprise and joy. Ever since he received the flute from Yui-Sama he'd always tried to play it in the solitude of his room, as not to disturb anyone. But----Yet here Mirio was, finding solace in the melodies that had emanated across the grounds. He couldn't quite help the smile that overtook his face. "You really think so? I'm kind of new at this you know. I only got this flute really recently," he said, bringing the elegant piece out. "Though I used to play around my village sometimes to earn money so I'm not totally new at this!" he hurried to add.

Oh he was rambling for sure but no one had really admired any of his talents since Genya, so this was….. It was nice.

"It really really is," Mirio insisted, lips turning into a pout. "Play for me."

The blonde blinked slowly. "Right now?"

The kid nodded. "Yes. I wanna hear. All the other kids get to and I wanna hear it up close."

Moved by Mirio's words, Zenitsu crawled closer and took a seat by the futon. "Okay," he said. "I'll do it. Just for you." He closed his eyes, and played. Fingers dancing across the instrument, allowing the music to flow from his heart, each note infused with the emotions he couldn't express in words. The room was soon filled with a gentle melody, soothing and enchanting.

He wanted to comfort. He wanted to heal. He put that all into his music. He hoped it reached Mirio.

And as he played, he noticed a tear escape from Mirio's eye, tracing a path down his pale cheek. Zenitsu's fingers faltered for a moment. "Are you alright, Mirio?" he asked softly, his voice laced with concern.

Mirio nodded, giving him a wobbly little smile. "I'm... I'm just overwhelmed," he admitted, his voice quivering. "Your music touches something deep within me. It's as if every note carries the weight of my own emotions. It's as if you understand everything I feel."

Zenitsu almost snorted. 'It is a funny thing,' he thought, giving the kid his own watery smile. 'That is something I could have done easily any other place but this village is just weird. Still I'm glad my music managed to reach you.'

However he kept that all to myself and instead said, "Do you want me to keep going?"

A nod.

So Zenitsu's kept playing. He played a more gentler melody and when he was finally done, he reached out to ruffle the younger boy's hair. "Hope you feel better soon, Mirio-kun."

Mirio's eyes met Zenitsu's, gratitude and understanding shining through his tired old gaze. "Thank you, Zenitsu-san," he murmured. "Your music... it's a ray of light in my darkest moments."

Zenitsu grinned. Wow, this kid really talked old. "Thanks Mirio-kun!"

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The day of the festival had finally arrived, and the streets buzzed with excitement and vibrant energy. Lanterns of all colors hung from the buildings, casting a warm, enchanting glow over the bustling crowds. Zenitsu, dressed in his festival robes, walked beside his senpai, their steps slightly hurried to keep up with the lively atmosphere.

As they strolled through the crowded streets, the sound of various music groups performing at different corners of the town reached their ears. The melodic tunes of a classic band captured Zen's attention, and he tugged the pillar's sleeve, pointing towards the stage. "Senpai look," he said. "It's them! The band I met at the park!" His eyes gleaming with delight.

While he'd been trying to sign up for the festival he'd gotten himself lost. It didn't help that he couldn't track his way through the town via sound anymore because of the stupid buzzing, so he'd all but given up after two hours of wandering around, resigning himself to not making the deadline and having Obanai-senpai mock him for it, when they'd found him. They were an eccentric group of four. Their hairstyles more wild than anything Zenitisu had laid eyes on except for Genya and they'd been so friendly and nice to him.

The band had called themselves the Hunters and they'd consisted of two exuberant girls that made him blush to his roots and two boys who'd taken to him rather quickly when they'd seen his tears and distress. The four of them had helped him sign up, introduced him to some of the regular vendors and even allowed him later to practice in their practice room. He really really liked the Hunters.

He'd even contemplated having his senpai meet them but quickly squashed the idea when he remembered how his senpai really was. Still, he had talked Obanai-senpai's ear off about them so the grimace and tiny nod of acknowledgement from the man towards them now, really really meant a lot.

The added "Indeed, Agatsuma. They're quite talented," however nearly made him fall over in astonishment. Grinning from ear to ear he nodded eagerly.

"Yeah they are senpai!" he replied, his voice filled with pride for his friends.

His body swayed instinctively to the rhythm, his feet tapping against the pavement. He couldn't help but imagine himself up on that stage soon too, showcasing his flute skills to the crowd. This was going to be so fun!

The night progressed, the crowd grew denser and as Zenitsu's time drew closer, his nerves started making themselves known. What if he was bad at this? What if he couldn't do it? What if he made a mistake, ruined the entire festival and brought shame on the Demon Slayer Corps? What if Obanai-senpai became so ashamed he walked out on him? What if----

A painful burst across his forehead made him shout; clapping both hands over his face and taking a step back. "Ouch, ouch, ouch," he whined, glaring at his traitorous senpai through tear-filled eyes. "What was that for?"

Obanai-senpai tsked. "You were getting stuck in your own stupid head again," he sneered; disgust making his mismatched eyes nearly glow. "Snap out of it and go do that ridiculous performance you've been working on night and day." Turning him around he kicked his backside. "I didn't come out here and agree to this entire thing for you to chicken out last minute."

Rubbing his butt with pout, Zenitsu turned around to glare at the snake pillar. "I will, I will," he said, eyes narrowing. "You didn't have to kick me!" But somehow he felt a little better. Obanai-senpai's words were always harsh but…..

He grinned. "Thanks for believing in me!" And with that he took off running, wholeheartedly ignoring the snaps of denial behind him.

But just as he was about to take the stage, he heard shouts. Childish voices clashing against each other as they called out his name. He turned around; eyes widening in surprise seeing the little kids from the orphanage waving at him from somewhere in the midst of the crowd.

He nearly cried.

They'd come to see him. They were here. Not all of them but some, and they'd come to see him. Shizuo and Tenzen and Nana and Kimiko and everyone. They were here!

He found himself waving back at them with equal enthusiasm making them jump up and down, their shouts growing louder until Obanai-senpai was suddenly there, slapping Tenzen across the back of the head and shutting the rest up with a warning glare. Zenitsu snorted. Good to know he wasn't the only one getting abused by the snake pillar these days.

Still,

"I'm really happy you're here," he muttered under his breath, reaching up to rub his eyes dry. "I'm really really happy."  

And with that, he stepped onto the stage, the spotlight illuminated him, casting a warm glow on his nervous yet determined face. The crowd hushed in anticipation, their eyes fixed on him.

Taking a deep breath, Zenitsu brought the flute to his lips, his slender fingers gliding effortlessly across the instrument. The sweet, melodious notes resonated through the air, capturing everyone's attention in its beauty.

With each breath, Zenitsu poured his soul into the music. His performance was a delicate dance of skill and emotion, captivating everyone who listened. With each second he played the music he'd practiced for hours on end, it fueled his confidence and pushed away the remnants of doubt that had lingered within him.

As the final notes faded into the air, the crowd erupted into thunderous applause and cheers and Zenitsu's heart swelled with a sense of accomplishment and joy. He couldn't help but smile, his eyes shining with gratitude and satisfaction.

After taking a bow, Zenitsu stepped off the stage, basking in the exhilaration of his successful performance. As he made his way through the backstage area, he found himself caught up in conversations with the event coordinator, discussing his performance and receiving praise for his talent. Which he managed to accept with all the bluster and embarrassment he could not for the life of him combine into confidence. It just made him want to crawl under a rock and die by the end.

Lost in the whirlwind of compliments and well-wishes, Zenitsu didn't notice the time passing. Eventually, he emerged from the backstage area, his excitement tempered by the realization that he had yet to see Obanai-senpai.

Searching through the now-emptying festival grounds, Zenitsu's gaze met with Obanai's stoic expression. A sense of relief washed over him as he approached his senpai.

"Senpai!" he called out, his voice filled with anticipation. "How did I do? Did you see my performance?"

Maybe it was the light deceiving him, maybe it was him getting ahead of himself, but Zenitsu could have sworn his senpai's eyes softened slightly. "You did well, Agatsuma," he acknowledged, his voice cutting through the noisy festival crowd. "The kids have headed home. They enjoyed your performance."

A smile tugged at the corners of Zenitsu's lips until it turned into a full-blown grin. "I'm glad they could make it," he said, a touch of wistfulness in his voice. "I wanted them to see me perform."

Obanai-senpai nodded, his usually stern expression not so rigid at the moment. "You did them proud," he said, his words laced with something Zenitsu couldn't quite decipher. "Now, let's head back It's getting late."

Face falling momentarily, Zenitsu's eyes scanned the receding festival crowd.

Reluctantly, he nodded. "Okay, senpai But I wish the night could last a little longer," he murmured, a touch of longing in his voice. "And I wish Kaburamaru could have been here too."

The snake pillar shrugged, already turning and walking away. "Such is life," he said. "And Kaburamaru doesn't like the crowds so it was better to leave him home. Besides he's heard you play too many times already."

Zenitsu scowled at his back but picked up speed to catch up with him. "Still," he whined. "I wish he had been here."

They made their way back through the dimming lights and fading sounds of the festival, their steps gradually slowing. As they turned a corner, something must have caught the snake pillar's eye for he abruptly stopped. Zenitsu nearly collided with his back, stopping as well and staring at his senpai in confusion Across from them was a woman. Her eyes were downcast, her expression distant. Obanai-senpai approached her cautiously, a mix of surprise and concern etched on his face. "Excuse me, ma'am. Are you alright?" he asked.

His voice wasn't quite gentle but it didn't hold that tone of mocking and coldness either. Zenitsu's eyes widened in curiosity.

Who was this woman?

The woman looked up, her eyes momentarily vacant before focusing on the snake pillar. Confusion flickered across her features as she appeared to struggle to recognize him. "I'm sorry, do I... know you?" she asked, her voice tinged with puzzlement.

Obanai's brow furrowed. He exchanged a glance with Zenitsu who stood beside him, observing the exchange with utter confusion.

What was going on?

"We met yesterday at the park. Your husband had passed away, and I offered my condolences," Obanai-senpai explained to the both of them.

A flicker of confusion passed over the woman's face. She shook her head, her voice trembling slightly. "I... I don't have a husband. I've never been married," she replied, her words filled with genuine bewilderment.

The buzzing noise from the flickering streetlights grew louder, resonating in Zenitsu's ears. He exchanged a glance with his senpai, the unease evident in the snake pillar's eyes making his stomach hurt. The strange sensation intensified, as if an invisible force tugged at their senses, distorting reality itself.

Obanai's eyes narrowed as he seemingly contemplated the enigmatic encounter, the woman's sudden loss of memory, and the eerie symphony of buzzing that surrounded them. A determined look settled on his face. "Agatsuma, something isn't right here. We need to figure out what's going on," he said, his voice holding a note of steel.

Zenitsu nodded shakingly. But just as he was about to open his mouth; the woman's back already fading into the crowd----

The festival noise disappeared into nothingness as a scream pierced the night air, shattering the lingering ambiance of celebration. Zenitsu startled, letting out a little scream himself, backing up and folding his hands across his chest.

His senpai's instincts however, kicked into high gear, his eyes racing back and forth trying to assess the situation unfolding around them. With a quick glance towards the source of the commotion, he seemed to have come to some conclusion.

"It must be whoever who attacked the lady's husband," he said, his eyes narrowing. Without wasting a moment, he turned to Zenitsu, his voice laced with urgency. "Kid, get back to the orphanage, now. It's not safe for you to be out here," his tone broke no argument.

Zenitsu's concern-filled eyes met Obanai's, his voice trembling with worry. "What about you, senpai?" he asked. "Are you going to be okay?" Because he didn't want to be here. He really really didn't want to be here but his senpai….. He didn't want to leave him either.

The snake pillar's nod held an air of confidence that instantly managed to reassure Zenitsu, "Don't worry about me bratling," he snapped. "Just get back to the orphanage and stay safe."

Hesitating for a moment, his gaze locked with his senpai's, Zenitsu's mind felt like a whirlwind of emotions but eventually, he nodded in reluctant agreement.

"This could just be human business," his senpai said, bringing out his sword that he somehow had carried with him throughout the festival without Zenitsu noticing. "And I hate getting involved in regular people affairs but it cannot be helped. Whatever this may be, demon or otherwise, watching someone else get hurt without lifting a finger does not sit right with me."

With a determined resolve, Zenitsu nodded. "Good luck senpai," he said before taking off running towards the orphanage, his small figure disappearing into the darkness. "Kick their ass!" He shouted as a last goodbye.

He could have sworn he heard Obanai-senpai chuckle. It made him grin.

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Zenitsu's footsteps echoed in the empty streets as he sprinted towards the orphanage, his heart pounding with fear for his senpai but also worry for the kids who'd left the festival earlier. Where they safe? Did they make it back alright? Had they been caught up in whatever was happening right now in the town square?

Each breath felt ragged in his chest, matching the frantic rhythm of his footsteps. The image of the orphan kids' safety as well as Obanai's weighed on his mind, but as he turned the corner, his blood turned to ice.

A sight of horror greeted him—Hiko-sama, the old lady who had watched over them these past few days, who had given them food and scolded them. Who had encouraged him in his music and taken them in, giving them shelter. Hiko-sama….. Hiko-sama lay motionless outside the orphanage, her frail body now a canvas of blood and torn flesh. Zenitsu's legs moved of their own accord, propelling him towards her, but it was too late. The vacant stare in her lifeless eyes spoke of a tragic end.

Tears streamed down his face as he stumbled back towards the orphanage, his mind reeling from the shock. He couldn't touch her. He couldn't look at her. He couldn't---------

'What happened?' he thought, feeling dazed, feeling sick, feeling everything and nothing. 'Who would do something like this? Who would hurt an innocent old lady? Why why why why why? It doesn't make sense? I don't understand? Hiko-sama? The kids? Where were he----were the kids okay?'

He couldn't breathe. Oh God he couldn't breathe……

The kids…… Hiko-sama………

He stumbled his way inside the building, legs shaking, hands curled against his heart as he tried to take in gulps of air. "Obanai-senpai," he whispered. Shaking, shaking so badly it hurt. "Obanai-senpai please."

The once vibrant building now seemed suffocatingly silent, save for the terrified cries of the children huddled in a corner.

Oh thank God.

They were safe. They were okay. Whoever had hurt Hiko-sama---- They were safe.

He approached them, his voice trembling as he tried to offer comfort, but his own grief clouded his words. "It's okay," he whispered, heart hammering so loud it felt like it would crack his ribs. "It's okay. You're okay. No one will hurt you. I'm so sorry. I'm so so sorry."

Nana cried louder and his heart shattered.

"Who could have done this?" He whispered to himself, his voice laced with disbelief as he gathered little Tenzen into his arms, eyes filling with more tears at the sight of Shizuo hugging the kids against the wall, shielding them, muttering muttering muttering to himself.

Shielding them from what?

Muttering what?

Zenitsu's thoughts raced, searching for answers in the depths of his confusion. Building up resolve to do something, anything.

But as his gaze shifted from one frightened face to another, Zenitsu's resolve wavered. His fists clenched with helplessness and the desire to keep them safe. Just to please please please keep them safe until Obanai-senpai got here.

"Who would do something like this?" he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "Was it the same person who attacked earlier?" The buzzing noise from the lights grew louder, assaulting his ears with an unsettling intensity. The eerie ambiance seeped into the room, casting sinister shadows upon the walls.

Who?

Zenitsu's eyes scanned the room,

And then,

And then his heart skipped a beat, frozen in terror. For there, right there across the hall, in front of the open, broke down doors, under the bright moonlight, stood Mirio-kun.

Mirio-kun stood before him, the bandage ripped from his left eye, revealing a number etched into its very center.

Lower Moon Five—

Oh…….

He couldn't breathe.

Oh…… He felt sick.

Please……no.

A demon child who held a flute identical to his own. A demon child with familiar white hair and familiar smile and came with familiar memories.

A demon child with crimson eyes piercing through the darkness, pallid gray skin seeming to emit an otherworldly glow. A demon child----

The sight sent shivers down Zenitsu's entire body his hands trembling; pulling Tenzen close enough to suffocate. Close enough to please please please protect.

Mirio voice slithered through the air, dripping with an unsettling sweetness. "At the festival. Your music, was it beautiful?" he inquired, his tone carrying an air of admiration that sent chills down Zenitsu's spine in their familiarity.

Struggling to find his voice, Zenitsu managed to stammer a response, his throat dry with fear. "Y-yes, it was beautiful," he replied, his words stuttering.

A sinister smile spread across Mirio lips, rows of razor-sharp teeth glinting in the dim light. Without hesitation, he lifted the flute to his lips and began to play. The haunting melody filled the room, its otherworldly notes twisting and warping, casting a spell of eerie enchantment.

The orphans cowered in fear, huddling together in the corner, their wide eyes filled with terror. Shizuo's voice echoing louder. "Stop Mirio, stop, I'm begging you. Just this once stop…. You took Hiko-sama already, so stop."

Zenitu tried to back away, his body yearning to escape, but he found himself rooted to the spot. The haunting music drew him in, capturing his attention like a moth to a flame. Mirio approached him slowly, the haunting melody resonating through the air, captivating and entrancing.

Then it stopped. Mirio removed the flute from his lips and grinned. He looked demonic. He looked evil.

"Is my music beautiful," he asked, tilting his head.

Zenitsu pressed Tenzen to his chest, shaking legs barely managing to crawl enough to put himself between the demon and the rest of the kids, his heart pounded relentlessly in his chest, the rhythm a frantic symphony of fear. The room seemed to close in around him, the atmosphere thick with an oppressive presence.

"Obanai-senpai," he whispered, closing his eyes at tears fell shamelessly down his cheeks. "Please, please help."

Chapter Text

Mirio's question hung heavy in the air, echoing through the chamber. "Is my music beautiful?" he asked again, his voice laced with a sinister edge. Zenitsu's heart raced, his fear threatening to consume him. With frantic nods and pleading eyes, all he could manage was a desperate plea,  "M-Mirio," he stammered, his voice quivering, "y-your music... it's... it's breathtaking." His eyes were wide with fear, "Please, don't hurt us. Don't hurt them. I... I can't bear it anymore. I can't..."

The demon's laughter echoed, a chilling shatter of glass in the air. "If pain wasn't what you sought," he smiled, so unlike the child Zenitsu had thought he knew, "you shouldn't have dared step foot in this place. Everything was in harmony." He threw his arms in the air and grinned so wide it reached his ears. "Master blessed me with symphonies that erase sorrows. No one felt the sting of loss or betrayal. They simply forgot, and I feasted upon their blissful ignorance. It was magnificent." His face twisted into a grotesque thing. "Until you and that Hashira came along that is."He wasn't a kid, not anymore. He wasn't the child Zenitsu had comforted in sickness who'd smiled at him and said he was happy here. He wasn't---- But then, with an unsettling affection towards him, the demon confessed, "You've grown on me, Zenitsu, so you won't have to die today."

"What?" The words came out like a gasp. He clutched Tenzen even tighter, lips quivering, heart beating out of control. Mirio only smiled at him, gentle and oh so inviting. "Now that my hunt has come to an unfortunate end, there is nothing more for me to do than clean up." Gesturing at him with a small little hand, he tilted his head. "Step aside and let me finish the others. Master's orders dictate that I can't kill you anyways." Zenitsu paled. "Instead," Mirio continued. "You'll join us. For Kaigaku mentioned you know the location of the elusive blue spider lilies. If you cooperate, maybe our Master will show you mercy after you've helped."

Zenitsu shook his head, defiance and fury bubbling within him for the first time since he'd stepped inside this room. Because…. Because…… Kaigaku, the traitor. The bastard. How dare he, how dare he----This wretched situation was his doing. Clutching onto that seething rage, Zenitsu rose, shielding Tenzen behind him. "You won't lay a hand on them," he whispered, attempting to sound resolute but failing to hide the trembling in his voice.

The demon laughed, looking amused and entertained. "Give it a little more energy," he said, raising his palms in the air and making an upward motion. "Come on, give it a shot."

Flushing beet red, Zenitsu glared.

Suddenly, a small hand clasped his wrist from behind. He nearly flinched. But then a cold object pressed into his trembling palm as he turned around, and he was met with tear-filled eyes staring up at him. It was Shizuo, his voice choking with sadness as he spoke. "I tried," he whispered, pain evident in every syllable. "But he... he killed Hiko-sama. I couldn't.....he wouldn't--- Hiko-sama she's----." He couldn't continue, Zenitsu didn't expect him to. He knew that feeling all too well. The despair, the disbelief, the grief.

Anger burned within him so fierce it nearly choked him. Zenitsu's entire body shook as he unsheathed the sword, a surge of adrenaline fueling his resolve. He lunged towards Mirio. He would pay. He would pay for everything he'd done. Zenitsu would make him pay. But the demon only laughed as Zenitsu brought his sword down on his neck, intercepting and gripping the blade with his bare hand. For a moment he appeared to be captivated by the sight of his own blood trickling down his arm, eyes staring in curiosity and lips forming an awed circle.

Then with a bone-chilling snap, the sword broke in two. Zenitsu stood frozen, the terror gripping him with an iron grip once more. His sword, it------- Mirio didn't wait for him to process it. Without mercy, his hand struck him; nails digging into the flesh of his cheek violently and brutally before propelling him through the air until he collided with the wall, slamming against it in anguish and pain.

Amidst the chaotic fray, the piercing screams of the children reverberated through the air, intertwining with Zenitsu's own desperate gasps for air. "Get away! Run!" he choked out, his voice strained and frantic. The noise but a gurgle through his sunken, broken flesh of a face. He couldn't be certain if his words reached their ears, for his vision had blurred, obscuring the world around him. The metallic tang of blood filled his mouth, a bitter reminder of his current status, yet he felt oddly detached, as if numbed by the horrors unfolding.

Closing in with calculated steps, Mirio's soft, eerie chuckle snaked its way into Zenitsu's senses, sending shivers down his spine. In a feeble attempt to escape, he scrambled, but his movements were clumsy, uncoordinated. Each effort only led him closer to the brink, until he found himself huddled against the cold, cracked wall. 'We’d only finished fixing this place,' a faint voice at the back of his mind protested.

With trembling hands pressed against his chest, he sought comfort in his own fragile embrace, shielding himself from the world, from everything. He didn't want to be here anymore. He didn't want to hurt anymore. Where was Obanai-senpai? Grandpa? Where…… He just wanted to go home.

A surge of self-loathing washed over him with each desperate thought. For a burning agonizing moment, he couldn't help but despise his own weakness. His own fragility. He felt small, he felt pathetic.

Taunting words spilled from Mirio's lips, his tone dripping with disdain as it broke through his anguish filled mind. "Is this the best a demon slayer can muster these days?" he sneered, delivering a swift, punishing kick at his leg. A kick that seared agony through Zenitsu's battered form. Gasping for breath, Zenitsu crumpled further, shrinking within himself, his resolve waning.

A torrent of tears cascaded down his cheeks, exacerbating the raw wound on his face, causing him to flinch.

Yet, it was in that moment of despair that his trembling hand brushed against the flute concealed within the inner pocket of his shirt. Clutching it with a desperate grip, his fingers seeking refuge and reassurance, Zenitsu felt a sudden shift in the air, as if magic itself had stirred. The once buzzing atmosphere of torment hushed, the mocking laughter fading into the background. Silence enveloped him like a protective cloak.

In disbelief, Zenitsu raised his head, only to find Yui-sama standing before him. Her icy blue eyes holding a gentle serenity that nearly broke him. He could sense her immense power emanating from the instrument. She was here, right in front of him. How? Why? How was this possible? Zenitsu's mind reeled with unanswered questions, overwhelmed by the enigmatic presence that now enveloped him.

"You called, young one," her voice resonated, filling the silence, and Zenitsu found himself stunned, his mind struggling to grasp the reality before him. Yet, he nodded, a frenzied gesture, desperate to keep her presence within his grasp. 'Please,' he silently begged, 'don't leave me.'

Nodding is all he can do, his sense of insignificance overwhelming him. In this moment, all he sees is her—Yui-sama and her unfathomable powers. Yui-sama who has materialized here, and…

"I need your help," he managed to utter, his voice trembling, his words hanging delicately in the air. "I don't know what to do. Mirio... he... he's a demon, and I..." His voice trailed off, a lump forming in his throat. Strangely, he realized that he feels no pain, no anguish. His mouth no longer throbbed with agony. "Please, I beg you, help me, Yui-sama!"

Yui-sama's eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of understanding crossing her features. "A demon?" she echoed, her gaze sweeping their surroundings, her lips forming a slight frown. "I invoked this spell as a last resort when I gave you the flute," she murmured, her voice tinged with a mix of surprise and concern. "I did not expect you to require it so soon." Her gaze drifted off into the distance. "A lower moon. My, oh my, you young lads have indeed found yourselves in quite a predicament. But where is Obanai?"

Zenitsu could only manage a feeble shake of his head, his heart sinking at the realization his senpai might not make it here in time.

A sigh escaped her red lips, carrying with it a hint of sorrow and brokenness. "I suppose I owe him," she said, a wistful smile gracing her face. "I will assist you."

"Really?" he asked, his comprehension of the unfolding events still incomplete.

Yui regarded him for a moment, her expression inscrutable. "You have much to learn, little one," she replied, her voice infused with compassion and firmness. "But you must summon courage. The safety of these children is at stake. Release me from my confines, and I shall do what I can."

"Release you?" Zenitsu repeated, confusion etched across his features.

She nodded, her gaze unwavering. "Yes, release me, and then hesitate no more."

In an instant, his vision cleared, she was gone. His mouth hung agape, his desire to question how he was meant to release her remaining unvoiced. But now the pain returned, and with it, the haunting laughter—the chilling, sinister laughter.

"Now then," Mirio interjected as if no time had passed at all. "I shall shatter every bone in your fragile little arms. Then, I will slaughter each and every child in this vicinity, before delivering you back to Master, all before that accursed Hashira even arrives."

Shatter…

Release…

Oh...

A newfound determination settled within Zenitsu, and with a resolute steeling of his nerves, he seized the flute in his trembling hands. And then, in one decisive motion, he snapped it in two.

He wasn't quite sure what happened next, but the world around him turned unbearably frigid. The bone-chilling cold seeped into his very being, sending shivers down his spine. And then, an otherworldly sound emerged, unlike anything he had ever heard before. It was a melody that transcended beauty and ventured into the realm of the haunting. It resonated with power and purity, filling the air with its presence.

Mirio let out a blood-curdling scream, his hands clutching desperately at his ears. Whatever had breached their world was gnawing at the creature's essence, tormenting him in a way that was agony to witness. The demon's body convulsed, and Mirio stumbled backward, his voice laced with desperation. "Stop it," he hissed through gritted teeth. "Stop this at once!" His legs gave out, and he crumbled to the ground.

Zenitsu couldn't tear his gaze away from the scene unfolding before him. He, too, was panting and trembling, overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of what had just occurred. He lifted his gaze, meeting Yui-sama's eyes across the room. She appeared timeless, her beauty tinged with heartbreaking sadness. "I cannot carry on," he heard her voice echo, though her lips remained motionless. "You must finish this."

And so, Zenitsu crawled. His body protesting every movement. Every inch he traversed across the floor towards his shattered sword felt like a lifetime. His feet dragged behind him, agony coursing through his veins. But this was his chance. This was the opportunity Yui-sama had bestowed upon him. He had to do it. He had to...

He collapsed, tears mingling with the crimson pool on the floor. Mirio's screams continued to reverberate through the air. 'Please,' Zenitsu implored himself, 'I have to do this'.

Summoning every ounce of strength, he forced himself back up; arms trembling, pushing through the pain. He pressed on and on until his shaking fingers wrapped around the hilt of his sword. "I can do this," he gasped, his face contorted with anguish, his body screaming in protest. "I can do this."

But as he neared the convulsing form of Mirio, his arm refused to rise. For an earth shattering moment, he thought that was it. Something within him broke and he almost broke down fully with it, giving up. But, but….he was Obanai-senpai's student. He was Genya's friend and he was the last defense for these kids. He couldn't…. He couldn't give up. So, he forced it. Gritting his teeth, he channeled every ounce of determination within him and with all his might, his sword descended upon Mirio's neck. He put everything into it. His blood, his tears, his grief, his sorrow and his determination. He swung down with everything he got----

But it produced nothing more than a feeble clang, the metal bouncing back as if he'd hit a sturdy object.

He hadn't succeeded.

He hadn't……He couldn't do it. A sob escaped his throat, tears mingling with blood at the realization. Self-loathing and self-hatred coursing through his veins. Yet, he tried again and again. He swung down upon the demon until he couldn't swing anymore. But it was futile. It felt like hitting steel. It felt like trying to cut a mountain.

Mirio must have noticed his failures, for even in his trembling state, he rose, a cruel laughter dancing in his tone. "You," he hissed, venom dripping from his words, "are nothing." Despite the tremors coursing through his body and his ears bleeding profusely from a sound only harmful to him, he remained standing. "I shall take your leg," he murmured, his voice laced with malicious glee. "As recompense for my troubles you understand."

Zenitsu raised his sword, a surge of defiance rising within him. He refused to meet his end like this.

Then the flute in Mirio's hands contorted and twisted, its form warping until it transformed into a sword—an exact replica of Zenitsu's own, right down to the jagged, broken half. A sinister grin stretched across Mirio's face, his eyes gleaming with happiness and pride. "What goes around comes around, brat," he hissed, his voice laced with a venomous satisfaction. 'He doesn't feel like a kid anymore,' was the last thought to float through Zenitsu's mind before the sword came down on him. In the split second it would take for the sword to meet its mark, time seemed to slow down for the thunder breathing. Slow down enough for him toa pray. Pray for salvation for the children he could not protect. Ask for forgiveness from his family, from his grandpa, from Hiko-sama and everyone for his inability to avenge. And hope of happiness for his Obanai-senpai who would lose him today, like he'd lost all his family too.

Then he locked eyes with the demon, refusing to back down despite the overwhelming fear that churned within him. And then, amidst the chaos, amidst the impending doom, a sound pierced through the air, cutting through the suffocating tension.

His eyes flew open, wide with disbelief. For as the descending sword aimed for him, it was intercepted with resolute force. Another blade, one he knew all too well, materialized before him, clashing against it with a resounding screech.

The sword was a thing of beauty, its slender form twisting and curving like a serpent, its form a testament to both grace and deadly precision. The sound it emitted was a balm to Zenitsu's battered spirit, offering comfort and familiarity in the face of imminent danger.

"Obanai-senpai," Zenitsu sobbed, his words emerging as a garbled mess through blood-soaked cheeks. "Senpai!"

But his senpai did not spare him a glance, his attention solely consumed by the demon in front of him. A raging storm of fury and vengeance swirling around him. The air crackled with an almost tangible aura of wrath that set the hair on the back of Zenitsu's neck on edge. "Time to die, demon," Obanai's voice hissed, carrying a weight of finality.

"Hashira," Mirio hissed back, his voice now tinged with a hint of trepidation, a stark contrast to the bravado he had once displayed.

"I'll take it from here, Agatsuma. Keep the other kids safe," Obanai-senpai's voice rang out, commanding and resolute, his unwavering gaze fixed on nothing but the demon.

Zenitsu's heart skipped a beat as he registered the weight of Obanai's words. Nodding with determination, he swiftly moved away, his eyes scanning the empty room in search of the children who had managed to escape. Relief flooded him as he caught sight of their absence. They'd gotten away. They'd left like he'd asked.

Obanai lunged forward, his sword held with precision, his eyes speaking of murder. The demon-child, despite the remnants of Yui-sama's intervention, displayed surprising agility, evading Obanai-senpai's first strike with a calculated move. But the snake pillar was a force to be reckoned with, his movements swift and lethal. And in a matter of seconds, his sword found its mark, piercing through the demon-child's neck and cutting it clean off.

The child's face contorted in surprise, his childlike eyes widening in a haunting display of innocence when the sword went through him. Zenitsu's breath caught in his throat, witnessing the stark contrast between the child he'd known and the utter cruelty the demon within it had harbored. It was a chilling reminder of the darkness that could taint even the purest of souls.

His stomach churned with a sickening mix of fear and helplessness as he watched Mirio, the little kid. The kid he'd known turn into ash. He was gone, just like that. Pleading and crying and sounding so very much like a child and Zenitsu….. Zenitsu had been too stunned so say anything, to do anything. His grip tightened on the hilt of his sword, his knuckles turning white as he grappled with his sorrow, with his own limitations. He had to be saved again. He couldn't even-----

Obanai, wiping his blade clean, turned towards him, something unreadable flashing across his face. "Are you okay, kid?" he asked, sheathing his sword and tilting his head.                                                       

Zenitsu's throat tightened, his voice choked with emotion. He couldn't admit to feeling sorry for Mirio, Obanai-senpai wouldn't get that but…. "I couldn't do it. I had so much help, and... I couldn't do it," he admitted at least, his voice trembling. "I was useless. If you hadn't----"

His senpai's expression softened ever so slightly, a flicker of warmth like faded embers glowing through his eyes. "Idiot," he muttered. "The day you can go toe to toe with a lower moon, I'll gladly give you the haori off my back and call you a Hashira. Don't be stupid." He averted his gaze, his fingers fidgeting with the bandages wrapped around his face, a sign of his own unease. "You did your best. That's what matters."

Relief and gratitude embraced Zenitsu at those words and tears welled up in his eyes. "Thank you," he whispered, his hands clutching at his heart, the broken sword cradled against his chest. "Thank you for coming."

Obanai simply crouched down beside him, his hand reaching out to ruffle his disheveled hair. The familiarity of the gesture made him cry harder. His senpai just snorted. "That's what I'm here for brat," he huffed. "Now let's find these kids and get them somewhere safe." Then he paused and with a voice even softer, almost a whisper added. "I'm sorry I made you wait for me."

Zenitsu covered his eyes and sobbed.

Chapter Text

Genya had been to the Butterfly Estate more times than he cared to admit. The winding path through the woods was etched into his memory, and the sight of the manor, with its delicate flowers and beautiful butterflies flitting about, brought an odd mix of familiarity and discomfort. Each visit felt like a reminder of his own inadequacies, a place where he was often dropped off like an afterthought. Shaking his head, he bit the bitter remark back. Himejima-san was a good man. A good mentor. He didn't have to take him under his wings but he had. And now that he might potentially have a Breath of his own, maybe, potentially….. Maybe he could learn it, Himejima-san's style. Learn it so they never needed to separate ever again.

But what were the chances he'd get the opportunity to figure it out quickly enough before Himejima-san meet his destined Tsuguko?

Shaking his head again as if to dispel the unwanted doubts creeping into his mind, he sighed. There was no use dwelling on things he could not control. He just had to do his best with what he had and the rest would hopefully come on its own. Yes, he just had to keep on pushing.

As they approached the estate, Himejima-san, ever gentle, reached out and patted him on the shoulder, his touch firm, breaking him out of his less than happy thoughts. "We'll see each other soon," he said, his voice a rumble that resonated deep within Genya's chest. There was a steadfast promise in there somewhere, unhidden in its loudness and he clung to it, clung to it like a starved dog with a bone and internally cringed at his own desperation. But could anyone blame him, blame him when it was a hard faith to shake when you'd lost everything before because you didn't hold on tight enough.

Genya nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. He didn't dare voice the turmoil swirling inside him, didn't dare show how lost he felt. After all, this wasn't the first time he'd been left at Kocho-sama's doors and it likely wouldn't be the last, unless Himejima-san found……. 'Stop,' he told himself. 'Stop thinking like that. No one will take him away. So stop it.' He cast a sidelong glance at his mentor, whose eyes were staring into something unknown in the distance, yet Genya could feel their weight, assessing him, worrying about him.

"Right," he said, his voice coming out steadier than he felt. He could do this. He would do this. It was fine.

Just then, a booming voice rang out, cutting through the moment like a burst of sunlight. "Himejima-san! Genya-kun!" It was Rengoku Kyojuro, the Flame Hashira, striding towards them with his characteristic vigour and an almost blinding smile.

What was he doing here? It was rare to find two Hashira let alone two Hashira's that were assigned vastly different areas to protect in the same time and place.

"Ah, Kyojuro," Himejima greeted warmly, inclining his head slightly. "It's good to meet you here."

He couldn't stop staring. He'd rarely met the man, a fleeting crossings of paths here and there the only thing that made up their interactions but that hair was unmistakable and that smile… yeah, not easy to forget.

Rengoku came to a stop before them, his presence as vast and radiant as ever, 'Nearly suffocating', Genya thought. "And you as well, my friend," he replied, clapping a hand on Himejima's arm in a manner that seemed to reverberate through the air. He turned his gaze to Genya then, and the force of that sunlit attention nearly made Genya's heart stutter. "Genya-kun! How have you been?''

He opened his mouth to answer, nothing came out.

The Hashira just continued to grin at him as if Genya hadn't just made a fool out of himself and oh God he wanted to sink into the floor and vanish for all eternity. ''It's been intense covering Obanai's area for a while now,'' he continued, still looking at him, still burning too bright it was blinding. Couldn't he please look away already. ''I could use some capable hands. What do you say?"

Genya blinked, stunned. For a moment, all he could do was stare at Rengoku, the words not quite registering in his mind. The Flame Hashira's exuberance was almost overwhelming, and Genya felt as though he were standing under a waterfall of pure lava.

Beside him, Himejima-san was surely gauging his reaction, but Genya couldn't move. It was as if his thoughts had stalled, frozen under the weight of this unexpected opportunity. Finally, he managed to force out a reply, though his voice sounded foreign to his own ears. "I—I don't have a Breathing Style," he confessed, heat rising to his cheeks in embarrassment.

Rengoku's response was immediate and unreserved. He made his way over to him, clapping him on the shoulder with a force that nearly buckled the younger man's knees. "That is no matter!" he declared, his voice booming. "My brother also does not possess a Breath, yet while he does not in his heart desire to be a Demon Slayer, it is clear to me that you do, Genya-kun! And that, my friend, is enough!"

The sincerity in Rengoku's words hit Genya like a physical blow, and for a split second, he wanted nothing more than to let himself cry, to release the tightly wound emotions that threatened to overflow. Because wow, it had been a while, a while since someone who literally didn't know him believed in him. He really really wanted to cry. But he held it back, just in the nick of time. Because how humiliating would that have been. He would have just died right then and there if he'd started sobbing in front of Rengoku, the Flame Hashira of all people. Could the man even cry? Wouldn't his flame breathing just erase it if he tried?

Putting those thoughts away for a second, he cleared his throat instead, forcing himself to ask, "What can I do to help?"

The other man's grin widened, enthusiastic and so alive. "I could use a second pair of competent hands like I said," he answered, then glanced at Himejima-san. "Would it be alright if I took Genya with me for a while? I promise to keep him safe and look after him."

Genya stiffened slightly at the mention of safety. Normally, such words would have pricked his pride, made him bristle with defiance. He could keep himself safe, thank you very much. But coming from Rengoku-san, the offer felt different. It felt protective, reassuring, kind, reminiscent of something Genya had once felt around Sane--- He cut himself off, swallowing thickly, his throat suddenly parched, dry, hurting.

—a promise of safety and camaraderie that didn't feel like an insult.

How long.

It had been too long.

He shook his head. Enough, he couldn't think about him. Thinking about him never helped.

He just needed to get stronger, stronger and finally get the chance to make things right. He couldn't do that if he kept on wallowing in self-pity.

Himejima nodded, his expression unreadable, yet Genya could sense the trust in that gesture. "Very well," he said softly. "Look after him, Rengoku Kyojuro."

Snapping his head to look at Himejima-san who was now smiling down at him in encouragement, Genya's mouth fell open in shock.

Before quickly being replaced by the excitement that bubbled within him, a strange concoction of eagerness and the need to swing his sword as something, anything, any demon. This would be so cool. So freaking cool. Zen would lose his mind if he found out. Oh Genya was so gonna learn the illusive card game to perfection and rub the idiots face in it. He couldn't wait.

''Thank you Himejima-san,'' he blurted out, nearly vibrating in place. ''Thank you, thank you, thank you. I promise I'll be careful.''

His mentor just smiled. It was a soft thing, fond. It made him snap his head away and look at the floor. ''I know you will.''

''Yeah....um, yeah,'' he said, scuffing his boots on the ground before turning to follow Rengoku-san resolutely, he almost made a graceful exist too. But that unfortunately was not meant to be for as soon as he took his first step, Himejima-san reached out like lightening, pulling him into a quick, firm hug. ''Stay safe,'' he muttered into his hair, squeezing him tight. Genya's face flushed with embarrassment. This might have been okay another time, another occasion but why did he have to do that now, especially with Rengoku-san watching? Squirming free, he scowled, the tips of his ears burning red.

"Stop that," he grumbled, casting a glance at Rengoku-san, who was laughing heartily, his mirth infectiously unapologetic.

He was gonna die. This was so humiliating. Did Himejima-san have to do this in the open. But before he could scramble off with an explanation and that he definitely was not a child in need of hugs, Rengoku-san stepped forward, enfolding Himejima-san in a hug of his own. "Take care on your travels, Gyomei!" Rengoku-san said, his voice carrying a genuine warmth that seemed to resonate through the air.

Oh.

Oh.

Rengoku-san was so cool.

Way cooler than Himejima-san even!

Then, slinging an arm around his shoulders, Rengoku-san began leading him away, leaving Himejima-san standing at the entrance of the Butterfly Estate. Genya was so overwhelmed by the rapid succession of events that he barely managed to stammer out a farewell, his mind reeling with a whirlwind of emotions.

Because wow, he was going with a whole other Hashira because said Hashira needed his help. That was so awesome. And this was Iguro-san's Rengoku-san, could this get any crazier. He couldn't even compute this as real.

As they walked, Rengoku-san hummed thoughtfully to himself, as if mulling over a delicious secret. "Perhaps," he mused aloud, his tone light and conversational, "We could pick up Sanemi-san along the way too!"

"What?" Genya's voice cracked with surprise, all the daydream fantasies that had currently been running through his head about amazing battles with him and Rengoku-san in the thick of things and the awesome stories of victories he'd write to Zenitsu about suddenly coming to a screeching halt. ''What!''

Rengoku-san laughter rang out, bright and unwavering. "Why, yes! It would be wonderful to have him with us wouldn't it?"

What?

What!

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Obanai woke up alone. 

He blinked slowly up at the familiar ceiling. The scent of antiseptic and herbs calming to his fraying mind even as tension coursed through his veins.

Something was missing, he thought, scrunching up his nose under the lose cloth that felt distinctly different from his regular bandages. Something was out of place. Something he couldn't place. 

His chest ached all the same. His limbs feeling heavy and unresponsive. His mind swam in thick fog, thoughts sluggish and disconnected and he hated it. Plus there was an emptiness sitting in his ribcage, a quiet, aching sadness curling around him like a second skin, but he couldn’t understand why. 

Not yet. 

And it bothered him. Oh how much it bothered him. And he hated it because after unwittingly saddling himself with the annoying bratling, he'd thought himself immune to such mundane feelings of bother.

Wait---- his eyes; which had fallen shut out of heavy exhaustion suddenly flew open. Wait a minute. For-----blonde hair. 

Flashing through his mind, vivid and bright, a memory surfacing so violently it nearly knocked the breath from his lungs. 

Agatsuma. 

His body moved before his mind fully caught up, muscles screaming as he tried to sit up. The room spun violently, his vision splintering at the edges, but he barely noticed it. His pulse roared in his ears, too loud, too quick, panic igniting in his chest as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. 

''Agatsuma,'' he rasped, barely recognizing his own voice. His throat was raw, scraped like he'd swallowed glass, but he forced himself to his feet. His knees unfortunately buckling instantly, sending him crashing to the floor in a graceless heap. 

Pain flared hot through his skull, his breath shuddering out of him as he tried to move, to drag himself up. His palms pressed hard against the wood, fingers trembling with the effort. 

"Agatsuma, answer me!" 

The silence in response was deafening. 

No, no no no. Not again, it couldn't happen again. He couldn't fail him. Fuck, he couldn't fail him again.

His mind reeled as he tried and failed to crawl across the floor. His body protesting by shutting itself down. How inconvenient, how infuriating.

''Agatsuma, are you there! Agatsuma!''

Every time, every single time he’d been separated from that reckless, stupid, infuriating brat, something had happened. Agatsuma had nearly died. Again and again. He’d sworn, sworn that it wouldn’t happen after the last time. That he wouldn’t let it happen again.

What a fool he'd been. Overestimating his skills as he had always been bound to do. Selfish, weak and useless. Like his mother had told him, like he'd always been. Somethings truly never really changed.

It made him sick to his stomach. That he'd once again be responsible. This was all his fault and---

'No,' he thought, shaking his head where he lay. No, he couldn't think like that, not now. There were greater duties ahead of him. He needed to think about that. Self-flagellation could wait for a more convenient time. At this moment he needed to put his focus on finding him. He needed to know he was---

''Obanai-san.''

A gentle voice. Unmistakable to the ears.

And with it came slim fingers wrapping around his arm, steadying him as he struggled back onto his knees. He blinked up, dazed, at the familiar purple of Kocho Shinobu’s haori. She was crouched beside him, her expression calm, but her grip firm when she finally managed to pull him to his feet. 

''You shouldn’t be moving yet,'' she chided, not unkindly. 

He gritted his teeth, wrenching himself out of her grasp; stumbling back against the bed. ''Don't…. I need to find Agatsuma.'' His voice came out hoarse, breathless. ''I need---''

His head swam again, the floor tilting beneath him. His pulse pounded in his skull, his breath coming too fast, too shallow. 

Shinobu moved closer, putting a hand under his elbow. Not letting him go even as he tried to shake her off again. She just stood there, holding him upright, waiting. 

Waiting as he desperately and painfully tried to get his heartbeat under control. Waiting as his hands clenched into fists, as he forced himself to slow his breathing. One inhale, then another. 

He swallowed thickly after some time managing to wheeze out a faint. "Where is he?" His voice was steadier now, but his hands were still shaking. ''Kocho-san. Where is Agatsuma?''

Shinobu’s expression didn’t change, but something in her softened. 

''He’s fine.'' A pause. Then, ''He’s been at your bedside for the past two days. He’s just resting now.''

Obanai exhaled. The tension bled from his shoulders all at once. His legs finally gave out, and he sank back onto the bed, barely registering the sensation. 

Oh. 

He blinked sluggishly at the ceiling, his body sagging against the mattress. Oh. 

Shinobu said nothing else. Just pulled up a chair beside him and sat down. 

For a long time, neither of them spoke. 

Obanai lifted a hand to his face, meaning to drag it over his face, but something felt off. The texture against his fingers was wrong. Though the cloth covered it well, he could still fee it. The rigidness.

Scars. 

His fingers stilled, hovering over the mask covering the lower half of his face. 

Shinobu watched him carefully. 

''I wanted to ask you about them,'' she said eventually, her voice light. Almost casual. 

Obanai’s breath caught in his throat. 

The ridges beneath his fingertips were deep, unmistakable, the warped skin a cruel mockery of something that had once been hidden. The sensation of it made his stomach twist, bile threatening to rise up his throat. 

''You didn’t have them before, did you?'' Shinobu’s voice was quiet, but it carried in the silence. 

''No,'' he murmured. Then--- ''Yes. I mean--''

The words broke apart in his mouth, his tongue feeling thick, useless. He swallowed against the dryness, throat closing up as a long-buried memory surfaced, unbidden. A memory he did not want. 

Shinobu wordlessly handed him a cup of water. 

He didn’t take it. 

He didn’t want to take off the mask. 

His hands were shaking, he realized distantly. His mind tangled, drowning in something he couldn’t quite escape. His scars. His memories. Yui-sama’s promise. The one she could no longer keep. 

Shinobu placed a gentle hand over his, grounding him. ''Breathe, Obanai-san.''

He couldn’t. 

He couldn’t because it all fit together too perfectly, and it was suffocating him, crushing him under its weight, and before he knew it---

His body lurched forward. His stomach twisted violently. 

Shinobu barely had time to move before he threw up all over her shoes. 

A sharp breath then, a pause. 

He flushed red, the shame making him unable to look up. Because, what kind of Hashira was he? He knew he was the most condemned, the least worthy, the one Tomioka looked down upon for very good reason, but to be this pathetic. Surely there should be rules against that when you were let into the Corps?

The sound of cloth rustling as Shinobu crouched down startled him enough to look up. And his fellow slayer seemed to take advantage of that, as she pulled the mask off to wipe his mouth with a damp towel. Her touch was methodical, practiced. Unshaken. She hadn't even flinched at seeing the disfiguration. He didn't know whether to love or hate her for it.

And as she cleaned him up, as she sent the Kakushi away when they rushed in, ignoring their protests as she continued her work. He felt his heartbeat finally calm down. Faintly managing to follow her actions of cleaning the floor 'I should offer to do it instead,' he faintly thought to himself, but was unable to move or voice the offer. Too lost in the static humming in his skull. 

Hell he barely even noticed when she changed his shirt, lifting his arms for him when he couldn’t find the strength. His body felt foreign, detached, like he was nothing more than a puppet whose strings had been cut. 

Yui-sama was dead. 

Her promise no longer existed. 

His scars were back. 

His breath hitched. The weight of it settled heavy in his chest, suffocating, endless---

What would they think? Seeing his disgrace painted on his face. Would Oyakata-sama even want him as one of his own? Did he belong in the midst of all these greats when he couldn't hide his greatest shame? What would Sanemi think with all his scars that were self-inflicted for the betterment of mankind. What would he think of scars inflicted to sate the thirst of a demon? What would Kyojuro think? He who'd kept his secret, he who'd cared for him. He who'd----

Something flickered then. A memory, stark and vivid, standing out against the fog in his mind. 

Golden flaming hair. A warm laugh. The sound of a voice that had been lost to him for so long. 

His breath stuttered. His eyes widened. 

''Kyojuro.''

His fingers twisted into his hair, his heart slamming against his ribs. ''He was there. They were all there.''

Shinobu was watching him closely now. Her expression unreadable. 

''If I fell unconscious, then---'' His breath hitched. ''They must still be---''

He turned to her abruptly, grabbing at her sleeve with trembling fingers. ''They need help,'' he gasped. ''Kyojuro is out there, and he needs help.''

Shinobu’s expression darkened. The calmness she carried like a second skin wavered, just slightly. 

Her hand came up to cover his, gripping it firmly. 

''It's going to be alright,'' she said. ''We will get to them, I promise.''

And for the first time since waking up, he felt reassured by her words, just a little.

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The dark was endless.

Or maybe it wasn’t. Maybe there were walls, corners, maybe there was even a ceiling just above his head if he tried hard enough to feel for it, but Kaigaku didn’t. He didn’t try. He didn’t want to. The dark was safer when it was endless, when it had no shape, when it was everything and nothing all at once. The dark didn’t look back at him with disgust. The dark didn't judge him, wasn't disappointed in him nor angry with him. It hadn't chosen to abandon him for months on end here, to rot. No, the darkness was just there. His company in endless solitude. But solitude rarely lasted forever and when it broke, with it came The Master.

For the darkness might not have hated him. But he did.

The Master.

He couldn’t say his name. He didn’t dare. Even in thought it felt like a death sentence.

All he knew was that he'd let him down, broken his trust.

After all, the Master’s hands had been inside his skull. Fingers, no, claws---digging through his memories, ripping them open, searing them black, burning them until all Kaigaku could smell was ash and all he could hear was nothing. Entire stretches of himself hollowed out and he couldn’t remember when it had begun, or when it would end. Only that it was punishment. And it was deserved.

Pathetic.

The word wouldn’t leave. It drummed against the back of his skull until he wanted to smash his head into the stone floor and make it stop. Pathetic because he had failed. Pathetic because he hadn’t killed that boy.

What boy? Who?

Every time he reached for the face, the memory curled inwards and crumbled. He had tried, he knew he had tried….had he? But the Master’s voice whispered otherwise, and maybe that whisper was truth. Maybe Kaigaku had never even raised his blade. Maybe he had faltered, pitifully, disgustingly faltered. He didn’t know. And not knowing was worse than any wound, worse than being a disappointment, worse than the hollowing hands inside his skull.

He wanted to scream.

But when he did, it came out as a rasp. A broken thing.

And as always as off late----

''You’re strong,'' said a voice.

Kaigaku’s blood turned cold. He whipped his head toward the sound even though there was nothing to see in the dark. Just… the faint outline of a man. Old, hunched, hair greying and eyes lined with age but steady. A sword rested against his lap though the blade was broken down the middle, and his hands, scarred, calloused; folded neatly in front of him.

Kaigaku’s stomach twisted.

The old man smiled at him. Gentle. So gentle it made Kaigaku’s chest ache with fury.

''I always knew you were strong. You don’t have to doubt yourself.''

Baring his teeth, sharp as knives, he snapped ''Shut up.''

But the man didn’t. He never did. He spoke and spoke and spoke, words meant to soothe, words meant to comfort, words Kaigaku wanted to tear into shreds because they were heavy, too heavy, dragging him down into a place he didn’t recognize.

He didn’t know who this old bastard was. He didn’t want to know.

''Shut your mouth,'' he spat, pressing his forehead into his knees, fingers clawing at the skin of his arms until crescent moons bled. ''Shut the fuck up, old man!''

But the voice didn’t leave. It followed him into his dreams, into the slivers of memory that weren’t ash. Sometimes it sounded like pity. Sometimes it sounded like pride.

Kaigaku hated it most when it sounded like love.

------------------------------------

He didn’t know how long he'd been locked up in there, this cell. Time had at a point blended into itself and he'd been left adrift. But eventually, sometime, a day? When he'd almost forgotten what it was like to see, the door opened.

The sudden crack of light stabbed into his eyes, ripping apart the dark he’d been drowning in for what felt like centuries. He flinched, curling in on himself like a beaten dog, and wasn't that an embarrassment? He'd thought he'd left that life behind when he'd been blessed with demonhood but alas, here he was again, humiliated, discarded, alone. Opening his mouth he immediately clamped it shut; to bite back the noise when a boot collided with his ankle, knocking his legs out straight.

''Rise and shine, little thunder rat,'' a voice sang, bright and cheerful like a festival bell.

Kaigaku blinked through the sting in his eyes. The figure in the doorway smiled wide, too wide, teeth glinting like frost. Upper Moon Two. Douma-sama.

Oh,

Was this it? Had someone so great been sent to put an end to him? Put him down like a dog? Should he claim it as an honour? He was after all so low on the totem pole that someone like Douma-sama shouldn't even be breathing in his direction and yet.

The Demon was leaning casually against the frame, fanning himself though the air was bitter cold, his eyes gleaming with cruel delight. So many colours, so many bright, dark colours dancing through them in an illusion of beauty.

''The Master has been so merciful,'' Douma-sama crooned at him, tilting his head as though watching a naughty child squirm under interrogation. ''You’ve been such a bad little disciple, haven’t you?'' He shook his head in mock pity. ''Couldn’t even finish off a brat. Tsk, tsk, tsk. But…'' He clapped his hands together, delighted. ''Our Master has decided you deserve another chance. Isn’t that generous?''

Kaigaku’s jaw locked, blood boiling under his skin. His chest twisted with humiliation. Another chance. Another chance because he’d been too weak, too incompetent. He ground his teeth so hard he thought they might snap. Who was this kid? Why couldn't he remember him? Why did he feel this twisted relief that he didn't? So many whys and so little time to find answers. He hated it. He hated everything. All he'd wanted was power. He deserved that much….but hadn't he had it? With the….how did he look like again, his old man? He couldn't quite recall his face. Lightning danced through his brain every time he tried and his teeth gritted with pain. Nearly flinching in surprise when Douma-sama crouched down to his level, his voice dropping lower, sweeter, dripping with poison honey. ''We’re going to look for the Blue Spider Lily's together you and I. And then--oh, then, we’re going to pay that delightful little twerp of yours a visit.'' A tap on his nose before the Demon decided to tweak it playfully. ''The one you let slip through your fingers silly silly boy. I can’t wait to see the look on his face when we carve it off.''

The laughter that followed was as light as falling snow and just on the side of unhinged.

Kaigaku’s hands curled into fists. His body trembled, not from fear, not this time---no, from fury. From the need to prove them all wrong.

He cast one last glance into the dark cell as he stood. The old man was still there, watching him with that same infuriating gentleness. For a moment, just a heartbeat Kaigaku almost asked him to follow.

But then disgust curdled in his throat. He turned his back.

''Keep your pity, old man,'' he muttered to himself. ''I don’t need it.''

And he walked out, leaving the ghost behind to comfort nothing but ashes.

Douma-sama clapped a hand on his shoulder as they disappeared into the halls of the Infinity Castle, laughter ringing through the emptiness.

Kaigaku’s jaw clenched, his eyes burned, and somewhere deep inside, the words repeated again and again, like thunder rolling over a broken sky.

'I’ll prove it. I’ll prove it. I’m not weak. I'll prove you all wrong.'

Chapter Text

Obanai startled awake. It was the kind of startlement that ripped you out of blissful nothingness and back into harrowing reality. His eyes cracked open as the peculiar noise next to him began to increase in volume.

The noise was not the quiet murmur of Kakushi, nor the soft shuffle of Shinobu’s sandals, but something altogether more chaotic; hiccupping sobs, wet gasps, and the unmistakable sound of someone dragging their face across his sheets.

He blinked slowly, lips smacking together to ease the dryness of his mouth. Then he turned his head and stared. For Agatsuma Zenitsu was on the floor, kneeling at his bedside, his forehead pressed so hard into the mattress it looked like he was trying to fuse his skull with the wood beneath. His arms were splayed like a discarded doll’s, his shoulders heaving.

''Senpai!'' The kid wailed the second he seemed to hear his wakefulness. His voice cracking, raw with snot and tears. Eyes searching his as if searching for sign of life. ''I thought you were dead! Every time I snuck in, you looked dead! You weren’t moving, you weren’t...., and I thought, I thought---'' His words dissolved into high-pitched keening. ''I thought you left me too!''

Obanai squinted at him, head pounding. His throat felt dry, and it felt like his chest ached from the effort of existing. And he wasn’t sure if the lump that formed in his throat was there from pain or…maybe something else. He didn't want to think about it. He didn't want to let it sink in, everything that had gone wrong.

And yet he couldn't help his thoughts from flickering to the others. To the Rengokus', to Kyojuro specifically, lost in the same grief and pain he'd been. Couldn't help but accept a moment of gratitude towards Sanemi, that he'd been sent after him. Even Tomioka, irritating as he was, had gone to check on the family. And that knowledge brought a sliver of relief.

And now….all he cared to know, all his brain cared to accept at this moment was that he was here. He was still breathing and the kid-----

So, he shifted a trembling hand from beneath the blankets and, hesitant; which he would never admit out loud to anyone, rested it atop the brat's head.

The boy froze at the touch. His sobs cracking into something quieter, his entire body shuddering.

Obanai’s palm lay on his hair for a moment too long before he forced himself to move, ruffling the strands once, awkward and rough. ''That’s enough,'' he rasped, voice hoarse. ''Get your shit together, brat.''

The kid remained still for a moment of a breath before his wails only increased in volume as he pressed his face harder into the bedding. ''You’re alive…… how can I not cry senpai!''

Oh for God's sake. Nose scrunching up in disgust and loathe as he was to admit it, sliver of fond amusement, Obanai prepared to snap at him. But then a soft hiss and a brush of scales cut him short.

Kaburamaru slid from his shoulders and wound himself around the kid's arms, coiling gently as if to comfort. The snake had been going back and forth between the both of them and stubborn as he wa to admit it, Obanai could accept deep down that it left him with relief knowing there was someone out there looking out for this reckless brat. Agatsuma sniffled, grabbed the serpent, and hugging him tight like a stuffed toy.

It made Obanai sigh through his teeth. 'Pathetic,' he thought. And yet--- the quiet calmness that settled over him was palpable. With the lack of screeching cries perpetuating the air, he finally let his eyes momentarily close in relief.

''Kaburamaru, I love you so much!''

Okay, that was enough.

''Agatsuma.'' He tried to sound stern, tried to sound steady but he felt so fucking tired. ''What have you been doing while I was unconscious?''

The kid lifted his blotchy face, nose running, cheeks swollen red, meeting his steel gaze with a wobbly one of his own. ''Kocho-san is sooo beautiful,'' he answered dreamily, then sniffed hard. ''She patched me up herself, but she won’t let me leave my room much! But I----I sneaked out anyway, and they scolded me for it, like a hundred times!'' His expression crumpled. ''And then---I talked to the Sound Hashira.''

His voice went flat, pouting expression turning sour at the mention of the other Hashira unlike Shinobu-san. ''I hate Tengen-sama,'' he muttered, here he grimaced in poorly disguised disgust. Which was interesting. Obanai raised a single eyebrow.

Tengen-sama?

''Go on.''

Patting Kaburamaru gentle on the head, the kid jotted his lower lip out and frowned deeply.  ''He’s been making me run errands for him since I zapped him with a bunch of lightning when I panicked after you passed out!” His fist clenching the sheet, and Obanai had half a mind to tell him to stop ruining his bedding but he held his tongue for once because, was Uzui bullying the brat? ''He wasn’t even hurt! Not a single scar! Why’s he holding a grudge against me?!''

Obanai tilted his head, trying to look unimpressed. But secretly the thought that Uzui was making the brat run around for him when he'd barely gotten out alive from his fight with the Lower Moon. Yeah, something unpleasant and mean curled in his stomach.

Letting go of the snake, Agatsuma tugged angrily at his hair. ''Besides,'' he continued, sounding very determined to justify his hostilities. ''Look at this! My hair wasn’t always like this y’know. It used to be jet black. Like yours.'' Here he pointed at him. ''Then I got struck by lightning and it turned this stupid orange-blonde mess!'' His eyes were wide, almost desperate in their confusion. ''So I know for a fact Tengen-sama hasn’t suffered real damage, or else he’d look different too!''

Obanai stared at him. For a long moment. ''Excuse me, what.'' 

Because…..What?

The kid blinked at him, pulling at his strands with both hands like a child showing proof of a great injustice. ''My hair, it….my hair changed colours and Tengen-sama's didn't?'' His voice rose up in a question mark.

His hair had changed? He really shouldn't be focusing on that fact. Should instead zero in on Uzui the jerk trying obviously to steal his stupid student but----His mind flickered to a memory; Mitsuri’s bright laugh, her sheepish voice admitting how her hair turned pink and green after eating one hundred seventy sakura mochi for eight months.

And against his will, a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth beneath the bandages. He had to bite the inside of his cheek to hold back a laugh.

Frowning at him, the kid's confusion was obvious. ''What’s so funny?''

Obanai ignored the question and instead reached out to ruffle his hair again, rough but not unkind. He couldn't help it. Mitsuri and now this idiot.  Agatsuma froze again, then grinned despite himself, hiding it poorly beneath the messy fringe.

'I must really have a type,' he thought. 'Idiots who are somehow drawn to me like moths to flame as I am to them it seems.'

Obanai pulled his hand back, forcing his tone into something more stern, business like. Smothering whatever fondness that had decided to see the light of day. ''Anyway. The Hashira will gather soon. There’ll be a meeting.'' He flicked the kid’s forehead, hard enough to make him yelp. ''You can attend if you don’t embarrass me. After that, we train.''

Groaning and clutching his head, the brat gave him a wounded look. ''Why do you always hit me?''

Obanai ignored him. ''I’ll have to wait til they are done forging my sword of course before we leave. Either way you’ll use mine to train.'' Pointing at the corner where his clothes and sword were put aside neatly he nodded. ''Go through the training drills I've taught you so far and practice the forms you've learned until they come naturally to you. Alternate but devote equal time to all but your first form. You have that one down mostly,'' he muttered.

For some reason while he'd been talking the kid's eyes had grown in danger of falling out of their sockets. Jaw falling open too.

''What,'' he snapped. Exhaustion already nipping at his heels. ''And stop catching flies with your mouth, it's unsightly.''

''I….'' The kid looked this way and that, as if searching for witnesses. ''You’re…. I can't believe….you’re going to give me your sword?!''

What an annoying brat.

Another flick to the forehead. ''Don’t be stupid,'' he said, ignoring the pained hiss. ''How else are you going to pass the Final Selection without one? You don’t get to choose your own until you’ve passed you know, idiot.''

Agatsuma's stupid eyes brimmed instantly with tears. ''Senpai. Thank you!'' He lunged upward, arms spread wide for a hug.

Obanai twisted aside, shoving him away with his shoulder. Because, no. Absolutely not. ''Stay over there,'' he hissed only to choke on his words, the rest dying in his throat even as he tried to force them out. The effort sending him into a violent cough. Followed by several tearing through his chest. His lungs seized, his body folding over. Pain burned sharp down his ribs.

The last thing his eyes caught before falling shut was the expression on the kid's face shifting in a blink from indignation to panic. ''Senpai,'' he whispered before his voice drew up in volume. ''Help! Someone help! He's dying----''

''Shut----up-----'' He hissed between ragged coughs, his face burning hotter than fever. ''If anyone sees me... like this, I’ll die of shame! Shut up brat!''

Kaburamaru hissed, coiling tighter around Agatsuma’s neck as if in solidarity. The traitor.  Thankfully the kid's voice seemed to taper off in uncertainty. Electing instead to hover uselessly over him. Flailing his arms, caught between wanting to scream for the Kakushi and obeying his Senpai’s desperate glare. ''Then stop looking like you’re dying!''

Obanai slammed his fist weakly against the mattress, coughing harder, mortification crawling up his throat with each heave.

Pathetic. Absolutely pathetic.

And yet. Through the ringing in his ears, he couldn't quite filter out the frantic voice of the kid, cracking, breaking---and he realized strangely enough, for what felt like the first time. That the brat, his brat wasn’t going anywhere.

The boy beside him might be insane and annoying and stupid and traumatized to the gills but he was here. He was here and that meant he Obanai wouldn't be utterly alone in bearing it all. Not like in the past. Not like living in that cage and….

Oh.

Oh.

That was....he was fine with that. He was.

‐-------------------------------------

Zenitsu lasted maybe an hour after Obanai-senpai forced him out of the room before he started wandering around. Wandering and grumbling because, how dare he kick him out. It wasn't his fault he'd thought his senpai was about to die! Sure he’d promised himself he wouldn’t cry anymore, wouldn’t make a scene, wouldn’t embarrass him, but how was he supposed to keep calm when his senpai looked like he’d collapse and never get up again?

Kocho-san had sworn up and down that Obanai-senpai was healing, that rest was what he needed, but Zenitsu didn’t believe it for a second. People who were just resting didn’t cough like their lungs were tearing themselves in half. They didn’t look like corpses with the faintest bit of colour slapped on.

Kaburamaru was the only thing keeping him from losing it completely, winding snug around his shoulders, tongue flicking every so often like he was checking to make sure he understood. 'He's still alive. Still breathing. Still yours to look after.' Zenitsu clung to that, even as his nerves gnawed holes in his stomach.

And then there was him. His biggest annoyance. The Sound Hashira.

Zenitsu rubbed at the faint purple marks on his arm with a grimace. Tengen had pinched him, pinched him could you believe that? Until he agreed to call him Tengen-sama, because apparently just Tengen wasn’t flashy enough. Zenitsu had tried to say no, had tried to stand his ground, but the man was built like a nightmare and would not let up until Zenitsu squeaked out the stupid honorific.

And now he was trying to make him his Tsuguko.

As if.

Zenitsu already had a mentor. Obanai-senpai thank you very much. Whether the man admitted it or not, and that was more than enough. More than he'd ever deserved. So screw Tengen. Next time he tried being all smug and cool and flashy he'd tell Obanai-senpai on him for sure!

So he wandered. Pacing, turning corners, anything to keep from storming back in and making Obanai-senpai yell at him again. Just to make sure he was still alive and hadn't abandoned him too.

But then, just like that. Without expecting it, without anticipation.

He froze. His body unwilling to move.

For up ahead, a figure moved slowly along the wall, fingertips brushing the wood as if it were guiding him. His steps were deliberate, almost brittle, but steady.

Zenitsu didn’t recognize him. Not at first. Maybe he was a visitor? Or someone Kocho-san was taking care of here in the manor? The thought of 'a former Hashira, maybe?' flashed through his mind. Someone strong once, who'd taken career ending injury? It was the only conclusion that made sense. Because the air around him, it was…..different. The cicadas outside seemed quieter, the hallway itself gentler. And Zenitsu felt it. Not sound exactly, but something he could heard anyway. Warmth, kindness, the steady rhythm of a heart that wasn’t beating for itself but for something greater. For everyone?

The feeling slammed into him so hard his chest cracked open, and suddenly he couldn’t breathe. Not from fear, not from panic, but from the sheer weight of it.

His eyes stung. Tears leaked before he could stop them. And for the first time since Gramps died, since his whole world caved in, his head was quiet. No screeching fear, no spiral of self-hate. Just… silence. Peace.

He didn’t know how long he stood there, crying silently like an idiot, before a hand slipped into his. Warm, steady, grounding. Another brushing clumsily across his wet cheeks, as if the man couldn’t quite see but knew exactly where the tears were anyway.

Zenitsu blinked up, startled, and saw the man’s scarred face. He should have flinched, should have bolted. Because the man was a stranger who looked even stranger but he didn’t. Because the stranger was smiling. Gentle. Patient.

He looked so kind it made his heart ache.

''Could you help me, young one?'' the man interrupted his whirlwind of thoughts, voice soft but sure. ''To my quarters. It appears I have misplaced myself.''

Zenitsu’s heart leaped up to his throat and his reply came out cracked and embarrassingly shrill, but he still squeezed the man’s hand like it was the only thing tethering him to the earth. ''Yes! O-of course, sir! I’ll….I’ll take you right now.''

''Thank you.''

''No problem,'' he mumbled, pulling on his hand. ''Just tell me where to go.''

And for once tears streaming, face blotchy, heart racing, Zenitsu didn’t care how pathetic he looked. Because with this stranger’s hand in his, he wasn’t afraid. Not even a little.

He'd never not been afraid before.

It was a nice feeling.

------------------------------------

The man’s grip was warm as Zenitsu guided him down the hallway, their footsteps soft on the polished wood. For once, Zenitsu didn’t feel the urge to fill the silence with panicked babbling. The peace clinging to this stranger making it easy just to… breathe.

But then the man tilted his head slightly, his voice quiet, coaxing even, ''You seemed very troubled back there. Would you tell me what weighs on you?''

Zenitsu bit his lip. Instinct screaming don’t dump your problems on strangers, but the kindness in the man’s voice loosening his tongue nonetheless before he could stop himself.

''It’s ah, well…..it’s my senpai. Obanai-senpai,'' he blurted, words tripping over themselves to get out before he regreted them. ''He….he’s training me you see. Has been for a while now actually, but…but he’s not okay. He acts like he’s fine, like nothing’s wrong, but he’s….he’s not.'' Maybe his hand is shaking in the strangers, he tried not to focus on it and it was easy to do that because the hurt was too big. ''He looks like death half the time! He barely eats, he hides it, he pretends---'' Zenitsu’s throat closed, his grip on the man’s hand tightening. ''And he won’t let me, he won’t let anyone help.''

The words tumbled faster the longer he spoke, like a flood breaking loose.

''And….and there’s Genya too, my friend, I mean----we trained together for a bit, got into all kinds of trouble, but I haven’t seen him in a while and I keep wondering if he’s okay. I mean, he’s tough, but still. You never know, right? He could be hurt or---or worse and I wouldn’t even know.''

His chest ached, his voice was wobbling. ''And this lady named Yui-sama, she really loved senpai and I made her die for me, because I was weak and…... Senpai, he keeps pushing, even when he can’t stand up straight. He acts like he’s carrying the world on his back, and….and I don’t know how to help him. He won’t let me. But he’s…he’s all I have right now, sir. And if he, if something happened to him---''

Zenitsu bit down hard, nearly biting through his own tongue. 'Too much,' he thought. 'Too close.' He didn’t want to say the rest. Didn’t want to dump the dark, private pit of his thoughts on this kind man. It wasn’t his burden to bare. But the stranger didn't discourage him, didn't say anything, didn't leave. He just listened. Patient, quiet, like he had all the time in the world for Zenitsu’s frantic rambling.

And when Zenitsu finally trailed off, embarrassed by his own mess of words, the man hummed softly in contemplation. Zenitsu didn't dare remove his eyes from his boots. ''Obanai-san may seem prickly,'' the man finally said, voice gentle as ever, ''but I am sure he cares for you. Or he would not have let you remain at his side for so long.''

The blonde blinked. Something about the way he said it made his chest lurch. ''Wait, um did you, did you work with him or something?'' He squinted suspiciously. ''You sound like you know him.''

The man only smiled, unbothered.

Zenitsu scowled faintly, muttering, ''For your information, sir, it wasn’t because he wanted me there,'' here he made sure to roll his eyes dramatically.'' It was my gramps’ last wish and he's trying to honour that. Senpai’s tried to ditch me, like, a dozen times---''

The stranger chuckled, a warm, quiet sound, and patted Zenitsu’s back. ''And yet, here you are. Still with him. That is testament enough to your own strength, don't you think?''

Zenitsu flushed instantly, stammering. His ears burned because he could hear the sincerity in the man’s voice, every note of it, and it left him practically speechless. ''I mean….I guess but---''

The man’s smile softened at the edges, his tone lowering into something almost secret. ''You are good for Obanai-san. Please, continue looking out for him.''

Puffing his chest out without thinking; Kaburamaru shifting against his neck at the motion, Zenitsu put on his most determined expression. ''Of course,'' he said with a scoff, shaking his head as if it was obvious. ''You don’t even have to ask. I’ll protect him for sure.''

By then, they had reached the sliding door of a quiet chamber. The man paused, one hand brushing the frame.

''Here I am.'' His body was illuminated by the evening sun and maybe it was because the sunlight was hitting him just right. Maybe it was because Zenitsu had finally run out of words to speak but suddenly, the peace that had blanketed Zenitsu slipped, like a curtain lifting. For he could hear it now underneath the calm, the smile, the steady breath. He could hear it.

The faint, hollow thrum of a body failing itself.

His eyes went wide. This man was dying. Really dying.

Opening his mouth, Zenitsu felt the words clawing at his throat, but before he could speak, the man turned, smiling at him with such gentleness it hurt. ''Thank you for your help, little one.''

Zenitsu’s chest cracked open right then and there. And he lurched forward, wrapping his arms around the man before he could stop himself. A choked sob tearing out of him.

The man gave a soft chuckle of surprise, then rested a hand in his hair, patting with the same patience he’d shown all along. Just like Obanai-senpai had done and-----

Zenitsu squeezed tighter, tears hot against his face. He didn’t know this man’s name. He didn’t know who he was. But he grieved him all the same.