Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The first thing Zenitsu did when he came to, surrounded by unfamiliar faces, was cry. 

What else was he supposed to do? He didn’t know these people at all, and he didn’t have to look at them clearly to know. The moment he regained consciousness, enveloped by a bright yellow cloth that hung past his shoulders and ended beyond the stretch of his arm—that he was sure needed to be bunched up quite a bit before he would be able to see his hand again. His stomach clenched a little, an instinctive feeling that something was not right. To make matters worse, there was a digging near his side, an awkward jab that he didn’t want to think about or he might risk hyperventilating further. 

No, too late. He was already doing it. 

He was far too young to be worrying about his death, looming as it always is at the forefront of his mind. Zenitsu stumbled to his feet—three different heartbeats, three completely distinct sounds that his keen ears have never heard before in his life. For someone with as keen a hearing as his, he has found out that different people produce different sounds. Their hearts beat differently, their breathing often varies and they end up producing a cacophonous melody that often reminds him of different things in life. 

He hardly remembered his parents, of course. They were gone before he could even hope to remember. The terrifying man with a walking stick and a hard set jaw sounded like thunder-- a rolling and unyielding sound that shocked him when he first heard it. There was this one girl that he thought was the love of his life that sounded like the light tinkling of bells--- her laugh, her smile and the sunny disposition made Zenitsu feel like her sound was bright and airy. He asked for her hand then, but he was rejected.

He lifted his head, seeing two persons. One was frankly quite terrifying with a boar’s head on a muscled torso. It was more than odd, which made him let out a slight squeak in alarm as he stumbled backwards a little when the boar bore down on him while wielding two serrated blades in his hands. His sound made him even more agitated, if that could be possible. It was an unrelenting amalgamation of different sounds that melded together--- it was wild and almost feral. 

To Zenitsu, it felt fitting. 

“Hey, Ganpachirou,” the boar said, tilting his head in scrutiny as if it took every ounce of brainpower to look and figure out what exactly Zenitsu was. “Isn’t he supposed to be… I don’t know, blonde?” He could feel the squinting look from under the boar mask and he almost felt like he was about to be poked and prodded by one of the serrated blades. He shuddered, paling at the thought. He should probably start bawling and begging for his life right about now, but the shock of the circumstances made it hard for his brain to catch up. 

“Yeah, he is supposed to be blonde,” said a boy that was decidedly more normal looking than the one with the boar’s head. However, in hindsight, anything was more normal looking than the boar’s head, so he couldn’t say. The first thought that came to mind upon finally focusing his attention on the other boy was that the sound was completely different from Boar Head’s one. 

Where with him it was a wild and feral sound, unrelenting and uncaged, this other boy’s was… different. It was, for lack of a better word, gentle. It almost sounded like the crackling of a hearth in the cold winter night, all pops and white noise to lull you into a warm and comforting sleep, or it was like a single beam of sunlight that filtered through the clouds, warming everything it touches--- if there was a sound for that, of course. 

He almost grimaced at himself from how blatantly terrible that sounded. It was unnecessarily poetic, even for him. However, that didn’t stop him from his almost immediate urge to throw himself at the boy. What did stop him was the third sound--- someone else was there. It was muted and almost as gentle as the one earlier but cut by an undercurrent of… something. It sent a shiver down his back. He didn’t like that sound nearly as much. It was like a babbling brook, gentle and calming any other day, but it was listened through a thick glass that distorted the sound into something altogether unsettling. 

Zenitsu bit his lip, confused and scared. The only thing keeping him from completely breaking down on the spot was the gentle caress of a warm and gentle sound he has never heard on anyone before to this level. 

“Wait, since this kid isn’t blonde,” continued the Boar Head, shaking his head and leaning into his personal space even more. He recoiled, the messy sounds coming out of this guy made him tetchy at best. “Does that mean we’ve got the wrong Monitsu?”

“Monitsu,” he echoed, dumbly. That was not his name. The other boy even looked dubious for half a moment before he spoke up. 

However, him speaking up got their attention. Crap.

“Hey Zenitsu,” the gentle sound came closer and he wanted to preen or to, at least, angle his head closer, but that was unseemly. He was not a bird. The boy crouched down beside him, his eyes immediately going to the odd mark on his forehead. It was an odd thing to have on one’s face and he’s never seen anything like it. “What do you… What do you last remember?”

Remember? What kind of question was that? What was he supposed to remember exactly? He scrunched his nose, tilting it a little to the side so he wasn’t looking at the kind eyes of this person. Well, he was at home, at his village, surrounded by people who could hardly stand him. What else was there to know? Wait… Did they kidnap him?? Is that why he’s here? What did they want?? His organs? They couldn’t want ransom, no one would want to pay for someone like him! Zenitsu almost choked at the thought. It didn’t even enter his mind. Kidnappers, of course! He was so distracted by the oddity of their sounds that he didn’t even realize the reality of his situation. He was going to die, wasn’t he?! He was too young to die! He hadn’t even got a girl to say yes to his proposal yet, how could he die now?!

“Zenitsu?”

Maybe if he bartered for his life?? What if he sold one of his kidneys, and maybe... a lung? Oh! He can’t do that! If they really wanted more money, they would just keep all of him. What if they tried to sell him to some slave market? Were those things? He let out a high sound, his brain starting to shut down as all the possibilities started to flood his newly realized mind. 

“Zenitsu, Zenitsu!” 

“Don’t sell me to some slave market! I haven’t even got a wife yet, I’m too young to die!! If you’re looking for organs, you can take one of my kidneys! How about a lung, huh? I’m willing! Just let me go, I don’t know anything! I don’t remember anything of importance! I was just in my village, you know? And now I’m here surrounded by… all of you!” he said in a rush, trying to get his thoughts out as quickly as possible. He started crying, clinging to the boy as his crying started to quickly become hysterics. “I’ll give you all the money I have if you want, just let me go! I just want a wife before I die!”

He didn’t notice while he was wailing, but the boy’s face was quickly morphing into that of an awkward grimace as he tried to figure out how to calm the babbling and hysterical child down. “Zenitsu,” he spoke firmly, pressing a hand on his shoulder making the steady stream of words stop and slow down into sniffles. “Calm down. We aren’t… kidnappers. We’re your friends.”

“Friends?” he replied, dubiously. He didn’t have friends. He was constantly assured of that fact, but the steady rhythm of his heart gave him the impression that he was telling the truth, or is ridiculously good at lying. Zenitsu doubted that heavily; the boy’s face looked too genuine and honest. “I-- I don’t have friends! Just tell me what’s going on before I call the authorities!”

“Wait, no--”

“Authorities?! What? I’ll beat them up--”

“No one’s beating up anybody, Inosuke! Everyone just calm down!” He gave off a slight frustrated huff, features twisting into irritation. This is it. He’s starting to lose patience with him. Maybe if he continued to whine and yell, he’d be set free. “Look, Zenitsu, something happened. A-- A demon did something to you, something we don’t even know is reversible,”

His mind blanked. “A what?” 

“A demon,” 

“That’s ridiculous,” he threw a skeptical look at him, eyebrows furrowing. Maybe they weren’t kidnappers, but they were certainly not the type of people he wants associated with him. How come he can’t just have a nice life, with a nice family and a pretty wife? Him being eleven, notwithstanding. “Demons aren’t-- Those are just things old people tell you to scare you, right?”

The silence around them was heavy. 

“...Right?!”

“Not really,” he said with a sigh, earrings twinkling slights as he moves his head-- hanafuku earrings, another oddity to add to the ever growing list. “Demons are real. They feast on human flesh and only come out at night. We-- you, me and Inosuke over there-- we kill them. We’re called demon slayers.”

Okay, that’s it. He should just stand up and leave right now. 

“Me? Kill demons?” His voice was starting to waver and he sounded faint. Human eating demons, and he killed them. He did that, apparently. He didn’t even know how to use a sword, much less kill people with it! What were these people that they thought he, Agatsuma Zenitsu, could even hope to kill a demon? He’s young! He hasn’t even got a proper wife yet, or a family, or even friends that he could remember! How is he not dead yet?! “You’re-- You’re joking, right?!”

The boy’s face turned earnest, pursing his lips together, before shaking his head. No . He swallowed heavily. He heard it. There was no lying in that. What he was saying was the truth, but he couldn’t for the life of him believe it. 

“I-- I don’t get it,” he barely got out before he clenched his jaw. “This doesn’t make sense at all! I don’t even know you people. I don’t even know your names! You’re going to just get me to trust that there are demons , and that I, me, Agatsuma Zenitsu, kills them for a living?! I’m eleven! I’ve never held a sword in my life! I’m surrounded in clothes that aren’t mine, people I don’t know, in a place that I have no memory of ever entering!” 

“Hey, Monjiro. You sure we can’t knock him out?” 

“No, we need him to understand what’s going on,”

“But it will be so much faster!”

“We don’t even understand what’s going on with him either--”

Zenitsu couldn’t believe it. His life from here on out was being predicated by these two. Maybe dying wouldn’t be so bad after all. If only he had at least a girlfriend before he died, that would be great. However, the only people with him were the Boar Head--- Inosuke, his mind supplied--- and the boy with the kind face and a gentle sound--- Monitsu or whatever it was Inosuke said it was; it wasn’t clear. 

“Just tell him that he got smaller for some reason and call it a day!”

“I think… I think it’s a little more complicated than that, Inosuke. I think he got younger,”

“Younger? Like he’s a piglet?!” 

A what?

“He did say he’s eleven,”

“And Monitsu was…?”

There was a really long pause after that. 

“Sixteen?”

“You don’t sound sure,”

“I’m sure!” 

He wasn’t sure, Zenitsu could tell, but that doesn’t mean that everything else he was saying did not have a semblance of dishonesty in it. He cringed a little at his situation, he honestly couldn’t believe that. It didn’t make any sense to him, but it did explain a lot of things. The clothes, the odd place, the people who all seem to know his name while he’s only picking up names as the conversation goes along. He bit the inside of his cheek, struggling to stand in clothes that hardly fit him, pulling up the pants as he does or fear it falling from his waist and having to drag the sword on his belt on the floor. 

“Wait,” he cut in, frowning slightly. “What do you mean I’m younger? What is this Blood Demon Art, you’re talking about?” The fact that the two of them had to crouch to reach his height made him huff. He had a feeling that his older self--- if what they’re saying is true--- didn’t have to experience something like that.

“We’ll explain it later,” the boy said with a soft smile gracing his features, different from the almost lightly exasperated tone from earlier when addressing his friend. “First we have to get you to a doctor,” 

“A doctor?” His frown deepened. “But I’m not-- Wait, are you?! You shouldn’t be walking around if you are! That’s not even healthy, that’s life endangerment! What if--” Zenitsu cut himself off when the boy’s smile brightened up more and his grin widened ever so. His eyes were red , he thought blankly to himself. They were incredibly red actually, almost dark brown, but glittered bright red under the moonlight. He shifted his feet. “What?”

He shrugged in response, holding a hand out to him for him to take. He did. “Nothing,” he said, airily. “You sounded like your older self just then. He would always berate me about risking my life needlessly, but granted he would also tell me to run away from a fight. ‘Tanjirou, you can’t go into the demon’s hideout! That’s how you die early! ” 

The imitation was shoddy at best, but it sent the message across and Zenitsu puffed his cheeks in return, finding his cheeks coloring in response. “But it’s true!” He protested, indignantly as the other’s grin broadened. “Wait. Your name’s Tanjirou?”

The boy-- Tanjirou-- nodded. “Yeah, I’m Kamado Tanjirou,” he introduced and then turned to his friend but found the spot empty, a loud shout being the only indicator that his companion was even still in the vicinity. 

“Souchiro! Hurry up! I’m going to beat you at this rate!” 

“And that’s Hashibira Inosuke,” Tanjirou explained with a fond smile, scratching the back of his head. He nodded at that, humming slightly. This Hashibira Inosuke was too loud and competitive for his tastes, he couldn’t fathom how his older self got along with someone like him. 

“Wait,” he said, face scrunching up as he blinked up at him. “Where are we going?”

“The Butterfly Estate.”

Chapter Text

Zenitsu found that the Butterfly Estate was full of as many sounds as there were pretty girls.

It was all the soft, yet unmistakable sound of dozens upon dozens of butterflies flapping their wings gently, and the chirping of birds in the half a dozen trees dotted around the estate. From the garden alone, it already looks like a haven. The calm that settled on his shoulder was new, but not altogether unwelcome. However, if he strained his ears some more, he could hear the sure sound of people walking or running up and down the hallways, the excited morning chatter and giggling of… girls! He almost melted on the spot, leaning slightly onto Tanjirou’s side unabashedly.

Suffice it to say, he was overwhelmed.

“This is the work of a Blood Demon Art?” asked the doctor once they settled inside the doctor’s office after hurriedly getting him out of his older self’s clothes, and into something that fit him better. Which was how Zenitsu found himself in her office, sitting on a chair that made his feet dangle a couple of inches off the floor, in a patient’s garb that just barely fit him, while he tried his best to not look the doctor in the eye. She was just so pretty. His older self must be so lucky. So many pretty girls, and he knows who they are?! He bit his lip, cheeks burning a little. 

Tanjirou dutifully nodded in reply. “The demon used it on Zenitsu, knocked him out, and next thing we know,” he tilted his head to gesture towards him with a concerned glance. “He became that.” She nods in reply, tilting her head slightly before turning to address him instead.

Despite her pretty and almost docile appearance, her sound wasn’t nearly as pleasant as Tanjirou’s. In fact, it was a lot closer to Inosuke’s than he expected. It was all full of tempered, barely concealed, rage hidden underneath the surface of a smiling exterior, constantly waiting to be let loose and freed. He could hear her breathing---deep, controlled and deliberate. It made him shift nervously in place while she stood up and walked over to him.

She picked up the stethoscope, nudged his clothes away and started checking his heartbeat. All the while, she was still drilling Tanjirou with questions. “Were you able to kill the demon?” she asked, eyes barely flickering up from her task of getting information about him. 

He gave her a sheepish look behind her back, running an agitated hand through his hair. “No, Shinobu,” he said, sounding disappointed in himself. “We weren’t able to finish the demon off once they set off their Blood Demon Art.” 

Shinobu clicks her tongue, nodding a little. “That’s to be expected,” she said, her breathing meticulously kept at the same level as it was earlier, with the same smile and airy tone. “Most likely the Demon Blood Art is used as a diversionary tactic at its best, and a way to make it easier to kill Demon Slayers when they’re at a vulnerable state of not knowing how to defend themselves, at its worst.

“Of course. Without the demon killed, we won’t know for certain that the Demon Blood Art affected him in a way that is reversible upon killing, or if we’ll just have to find an… alternative solution.” 

The words ‘No guarantee that he’ll be back to normal’ was left unspoken but rang clear in the minds of everyone in the room anyway. It wasn’t exactly comforting, but he didn’t know whether he should cry or not about the predicament. He knows that this isn’t right. He should be sixteen, a demon slayer, and blonde, but he didn’t remember any of those things. The last thing he really remembered was the village he grew up in, dotted with peach trees nearby that bloomed in the summer, and the hustle and bustle of people who wouldn’t give him a second glance. 

His hand twitched, reaching upwards, before he inevitably dropped it back onto his lap. He wasn’t really sure how he felt about all of this yet. 

To the contrary, Tanjirou was visibly stricken. The gentle sound that he only really associates with him has dulled--- as if Shinobu’s words itself snuffed a little bit of the crackling hearth that burned ever so bright in him. Zenitsu almost wanted to wince, but he held himself back. It was the right thing to do to understand why he was feeling this way. It was obviously because his friend was taken from him. 

“Will we be continuing the mission then?” He asked her. “Inosuke and I, I mean.”

She shook her head as she started to tie a simple piece of rubber around the base of his forearm. “I don’t think so,” she said, soaking some cotton with alcohol and rubbing it against the crevice of his elbow. “The demon’s Demon Blood Art complicates things. It’s risky to have a prolonged fight with a demon like that so we’ll most likely have a higher ranked member take care of it.” 

“A Pillar?”

“Possible, but unlikely,” 

“What will happen then?”

“Well,” she left him for a moment to retrieve something from one of her cabinets. “We’ll have to keep Zenitsu here in the meantime as he’ll be under observation. Of course, you and Inosuke are free to stay here until your next mission considering the two of you are also quite injured.” 

Tanjirou nodded, a smile back in place, albeit smaller than it was before. “Thank you so much,” he replied, bowing slightly. She nodded before turning her attention back to him, holding something in her hands. 

“Alright, I’ll be taking your blood now,” she said, her smile still stuck into her face, making her look more menacing than if she just dropped the smile altogether, while removing the cap of her syringe and showcasing a giant needle that was practically the length of his forearm. Zenitsu gave a strangled yelp, pulling his arm away quickly and tucking it closer to his body.

“The needle’s huge ! What kind of needles do you have here?!” he says, pointing at it with a shaky finger, jaw slacking and eyes popping out of his face. He started to shake uncontrollably, shaking his head quickly. “You can’t stick that in me! It will hurt! I’ll faint-- I’ll DIE! I’m too young to die! I’m not even a man yet! Can’t you hear it?! My voice is still so squeaky! I won’t survive somebody sticking something that’s practically the size of my forearm into me!!!” 

Her smile never wavered as she waved a finger in front of his crying face. “Aw, but Zenitsu,” she said, her smile twitching slightly. Her serene smile broadened into something cute and sweet. “You won’t die! You’ll be able to handle it all. Y’know why?” 

“Why?” 

She coaxed one of his hands in hers--- her hands were so soft, but were also surprisingly, even uncomfortably, cold--- and giving it a comforting squeeze. Her smile was still sweet and sugary, but her sound didn’t change once during this exchange. “Because I’ll be cheering you right on.” 

His face turned bright red in an instant and he nearly stopped breathing on the spot. Is this what dying felt like? Is this how he’s going to die? 

He unwound his arms from his body and practically thrust the arm she prepared earlier towards her. “Okay!” he said in a strangled squeak, his voice cracking as he said the ‘kay’ at the end. He slapped a hand on his mouth in horror as he stared at the others. 

He could hear it, the amusement in their breathing as they tried to reel it in. Shinobu’s smile turned genuine as she grinned in amusement while Tanjirou coughed a little, pressing his lips together in a tight line that did nothing to hide how wide his smile really was. “Shut up, shut up, shut up!” he seethed, waving his arm around in a desperate attempt to both hide their reactions and his own. “I told you it’s still squeaky!! This just proves my entire point!”

His voice cracked again as he finished his sentence. Never mind earlier, this is how he’s going to end up dying. Embarrassed and crying in front of a doctor like the day he was born.

His face was redder now, if that was possible, burning up to the tips of his ears. He pressed his lips tightly together as he shifted his glance to his lap. Silence was better than continuing to embarrass himself like this. Thankfully, the embarrassment was an incredibly efficient distraction because once Shinobu finished drawing his blood quickly, he only whimpered once and teared up a little.

“Alright,” she said, her smile back to its serene vacancy as she waved a tube full of his blood in front of him. As if to confirm to him that yes, that was his blood she was holding in her hand. “We’re done. See? Wasn’t so bad, was it?” Her smile turned a touch mischievous before she swept away, her haori fluttering behind her like the very butterflies that were in her garden.

After how the meeting with Shinobu went, he was told that he could go and eat something. One of the girls--- a pretty girl with pigtails and a slight scowl that softened when he asked for some clothes that would fit and helped him look for what he was wearing now--- announced that lunch was to be ready in a few, so he was swinging his arms around on his side and had a slight hop in his step. The urgency of his condition and the oddity that was Shinobu was momentarily forgotten as he practically skipped ahead of Tanjirou. Will he be eating with the girls? Well, he was about to find out. He entered the room where the clinking of plates was loudest and the smell of food was strongest--- 

“Monitsu!” 

---and screamed in surprise, his body being tackled to the ground by a body that was too hard for its own good, a striking boar’s head and a sound that ravaged without any hindrances--- it was Inosuke. His stomach bottomed out and he scrambled for the ground, but it was no use. He was lifted off the ground by a triumphantly laughing pig headed idiot. 

“Put me down!!” he screeched in horror, arms flailing uselessly as he tried to squirm out of his grasp. He wasn’t a toy! He was short, but that didn’t mean this guy could just lift him up over his head like that!! “Help!! I’m being manhandled!!!” 

“Jangoro!! Look! I can carry the Tiny Monitsu in not just two hands,” he said, excitedly that honestly scared Zenitsu more than it should. He started grasping for something, anything, so that he won’t just fall straight to the ground in a five foot drop. “But one handed now too!!!” 

Inosuke promptly removed his hand and was now holding him above his head from just the scruff of his neck, and he could safely say that he has never felt more embarrassed and scared for his life than right at this moment.

Was this some kind of divine retribution for his last girlfriend or something?

Tanjirou came inside right at the nick of time, wide-eyed and mouth completely agape--- a savior if he ever saw one. His face schooled into a stern expression as he walked up to Inosuke. He was only a good half an inch taller than he was, but it was still enough for him to tower over them all with a scowl, hard eyes, and disappointment radiating off of him in waves. It almost immediately made Inosuke pay attention. It was a well mastered technique that he only saw around parents, grandparents and some older siblings--- the “I’m disappointed in you” look. 

“Inosuke, you can’t hold Zenitsu like that!” he scolded, shaking his head at him. “It was fine when he was still a demon slayer, but look at him! He’s a child! He would probably get more hurt than usual if you accidentally dropped him!”

He squawked in indignation, but didn’t say anything more. For one thing, he was making his case, but for another, he was not a child. He was almost twelve! He’s had way more girlfriends than the average baby! Which is to say not a lot, but still.

Inosuke gave a hum as if considering what Tanjirou was telling him. He was shifted from being held by the scruff of his neck and being held by both hands under his arms--- the intense, unrelenting stare of the boar’s head was bearing down on him, and it was honestly the creepiest thing that he ever had to experience. Eventually, there was a huff and the stare left him as he looked back up. 

“I wasn’t going to drop him, Kentaro,” he said before tilting his head slightly in consideration. “How are we supposed to treat him then if not like usual?” Zenitsu heard it in his voice. He was genuinely asking it. He really wanted to know and understand what to do right, and it would have been soft and heartwarming if this wasn’t a shirtless guy with a boar’s head on his head. If anything, it just made it weirder. Tanjirou, however, also noticed the change in demeanor and the smile on his face was bright and made the stern lines from earlier disappear completely. He blinked owlishly at how easy it was to please him. 

He shrugged in response, before stepping over and pressing a hand through his hair and gently running through the dark locks. It was surprisingly comforting. He was tilting his head, before looking back up at Inosuke. “You can always treat him like how your boar mom used to treat you,” he said, nodding to himself like that answered the question quite well. Which it did, actually, but that didn’t stop Zenitsu from scrunching his nose because boar mom.  

It seemed to do the trick because he was suddenly pressed into Inosuke’s incredibly solid chest in a tight hug, the fur of the mask rubbing against his cheek uncomfortably. He was pulled back to see a beaming Inosuke, looking at him completely different from earlier. “You’re right, Monjirou!” he said, nodding, proud and self-assured in himself. Of course, he also missed Tanjirou’s mumbled correction of his name, so Zenitsu wasn’t entirely sure what he was so proud of. “That’s probably the smartest thing you’ve said so far! Just like with a piglet, he needs to be protected and well cared for!”

Again with the piglet. That was just too much. Zenitsu to grumble, yell or something in that vein or nature, but he wasn’t able to do any of the sort before they were told that their lunch was ready, and he was whisked to the table and placed down on one of the pillows, a rice bowl already in front of him. He cocked his head at Inosuke who was seated next to him, beaming excitedly, and Tanjirou who sat right in front with an amused expression on his face. 

“Go and eat, Minitsu, or I’ll end up stealing your food!” Inosuke exclaimed, already brandishing a pair of chopsticks in one hand and his rice bowl in the other. 

"Minitsu! ” he couldn’t help but screech. He was not that short. He glared at Inosuke, picking up his own chopsticks, but not moving to eat yet. 

However, Tanjirou was very amused. He was smiling into his meal, trying to hide his laughter. “Minitsu? That could actually be witty, Inosuke,” he said before taking a bite of his food. Inosuke didn’t get it, giving him an odd look. 

“Wha--” he said, incredulously with food still in his mouth--- some food spitting on and he had to move his bowl away from the line of fire--- and his rice bowl already half empty from food.

Tanjirou just shook his head in reply before swallowing and turning his attention back to him, eyes flickering to Inosuke discreetly before focusing back on him with a knowing look. “You really should start finishing your food already,” he advised. “Inosuke used to be known to try and steal your food a lot, and knowing you, you might not like that.” 

Zenitsu nodded, doing as he was told. There was just something about the earnest way he said it that made him want to do it. He started eating, and when Inosuke stole his food to eat some more, Tanjirou would just wordlessly replace it with some food from his bowl. It was like a well practiced routine. However, it was a routine he didn’t know, but that didn't stop him from smiling softly to himself, making sure to hide it behind his next bite. 

Chapter Text

Tanjirou and Inosuke were set to leave for Shinobu’s office as soon as they finished their food. They were being called in to check on their injuries--- after they, or rather Tanjirou, insisted earlier that Zenitsu be checked first because he was the one affected by the demon the most, and that the wounds they had were not enough to truly garner a visit--- and had to leave him to his own devices. 

His hand gripped the firm, calloused hand of Tanjirou in his with a frown and a worried face. There were girls around, so he would be fine. He would be more than fine even, but the prickling sensation at the back of his neck and the slight ringing in his ears made him want to cling to him and never let go. 

“Zenitsu, let go! I need to get checked for injuries!” Tanjirou said, with a huff and a slight scowl already on his face as he tried pulling out his fingers one by one from his hand so that he could leave. He stubbornly held on though, looking up at him with sad, brown eyes that didn’t waver for a second. This made him pause for a second, eyes flickering with an idea and he bit his lip, shaking his head slightly. “If you don’t, my injuries might get worse and I’ll succumb!” 

That did it.

He screeched, releasing his hand like it was burning coal. The first thing that popped in his head was fear. Which quickly evolved as he realized that it was just a tactic to get him to let go. Zenitsu screwed his face in righteous fury as he watched the other stand up, giving him a sheepish smile. “Sorry,” he said awkwardly and actually meant it. This, of course, made him huff and fume even more, crossing his arms as he stomped his feet on the floor. 

“Don’t joke like that, you idiot!” he hissed, his cheeks puffing up subconsciously and tears pricking at his eyes. “I won’t be able to handle it if you died! Who would protect me from Inosuke, huh?! He’s going to steal all my food and throw me to the sun without you around!” 

“He’s not going to throw you to the sun---”

“Well, he’ll try!” 

Tanjirou gaped before he choked on his laughter. The actual gall of this guy. He wanted to tear his hair out in frustration. Does he not understand the severity that his death would cause him?? “I’m sorry,” he said with a smile that wasn’t as sheepish as before but was amused. “You’re adorable when your face puffs up to look intimidating like that. You look like an ohagi.”

He did not know how his older self survived every single day when this was the kind of self-preservation he surrounded himself with. Zenitsu flushed in indignation, wanting to do something. He felt terrible for wanting to keep Tanjirou away from Shinobu, but now he felt worse for wanting to punch him in the gut hard with his admittedly tiny, tiny hand. 

In all honesty, he was being a bit much, but right now he didn’t care. He was already having a weird enough day! The thrum that gentle sound that Tanjirou seemed to ring naturally did nothing to soothe his frazzled nerves, but exacerbated it further. He didn’t know why he was acting this way, no one bothered to tell him much about that, but it was enough so that he felt terrible at the look on his face and the sudden realization that this guy might stay if he kept this up and the tears started rolling.

Zenitsu might.

But that was so selfish, so he settled for glaring indignantly at the sheer insult. His face wasn’t that soft and round looking… Was that why girls didn’t like him?! Tanjirou was about to open his mouth and say something, but he was quickly cut off by a pair of hands on his shoulders that started to steer him towards the door.

“Go already!” snapped the girl in pigtails from earlier that helped him, practically shoving Inosuke and Tanjirou out of the room with a scowl. “I swear I could practically hear your bones cracking--” a lie, they didn’t have broken bones, he mused “--already! Go to Shinobu and don’t come back until you’ve been properly treated!”

“But---” he was about to say, but the door was shut in his face with solid finality and a sigh from the girl as she rubbed an anxious hand over the nape of her neck. When he was gone, the tension on his shoulders lifted slightly, but his heart still raced uncomfortably and his hands were shaking too much to be natural. He tilted his head at it, squinting slightly. 

“Hey,” a soft voice said to him and he looked up at bright blue eyes, and his first thought was how pretty the color was. He swallowed shakily when he felt slightly calloused hands on his own, quelling the shaking effectively and making him gape in astonishment. “You know, they’ll be back soon, right?” 

He nodded because yes he knows that, but it still soothed him when she said that.

“And that whatever is going on with them, they’ll handle it no problem?”

He nodded at that again, slower this time. 

“Okay, you alright now?”

He had no answer to that. Yes, his brain helpfully supplied because he wasn’t shaking anymore and he was finally calm enough to take in what just happened. Physically he was fine, but he was relaying what happened just a couple of minutes ago now that his mind cleared and he felt a sinking in his stomach. It didn’t feel good. However, the soft and patient eyes were enough to snap him back into reality, albeit not there fully, as he exclaimed---

“Yes! Would you marry me? You’re cute!” 

The eyes hardened very quickly after that.

The girl in pigtails was named Kanzaki Aoi. Surprisingly, she sounded a lot like Shinobu, albeit less tempered and was tamer in comparison. She held her emotions on her sleeve, on the hardness of her eyes, and the tightness of her mouth. She also smelled fragrant--- the very flowers that dotted the estate clung to her clothes--- and her smile and eyes were bright and soft when she wanted them to be. 

However, she was also a ruthless taskmaster that made Zenitsu want to keel over and cry. 

He found this out very quickly after he was rejected from his proposal--- his head throbbing ruthlessly where he got hit upside the head. He was also given a very dark look, very unlike the looks he had been given up until that point, and was tugged into the kitchen by the scruff of his neck. He struggled and flailed all he wanted as he entered, and was quickly deposited to stand on a moderately high stool. Moderately high to Zenitsu was, of course, tall.  

He squeaked, clinging to the counter in an effort to stop his brain from swimming too much. Wow, this was far, far higher than he was currently comfortable with. Namely, the ground if possible. His eyes flickered to look at her worriedly, but she was just casually shrugging on an apron and tugging up the sleeves of her dark uniform. She looked so unconcerned over his ever growing panic. 

Cruel, so cruel. Maybe being rejected was not a mistake after all. 

“I think this stool is too high for me!” he exclaimed, swallowing hard. “I might die if I’m not careful! What if I slip and fall?!” 

“Then be careful,” she told him, testily as she pulled out a towel from a hook on the cabinet before placing it in front of him. “You’re going to wiping down the dishes, so you need to sit down and stop squirming already.”

“But---”

“Or I swear I will tape you to that chair!”

He squeaked--- she’s so scary!--- and sat down very quickly, the stool wobbling a little as he did so and he wanted to curse whoever was out there for not giving him a break already. He was just trying to live life! He picked up the towel once he was calm enough and looked up at Aoi expectantly.

“That wasn’t so bad was it?” she said as she shook her head as she poured some water from a pot to suds up the rag she was going to use to clean the dishes. “The stool is literally two feet off the ground.”

“Two feet is still enough to break my neck... “ he said, glumly as he watched her take a plate and scrub it clean. ‘What if I fall?!”

“Then I’ll catch you,” she said, simply. She said it like it was the easiest thing in the world, and he gaped. How could she say that so effortlessly and so sure of herself? Zenitsu’s mouth tightened in uncertainty, but he felt obliged to believe her, but still---

“How sure are you that you could?”

Wet. His face was suddenly wet.

His body stiffened in shock and his stomach bottomed out. His entire life flashed before his eyes--- his girlfriends, the villagers back home, the places he’s worked in to keep on living--- and he thought, this is it. His life wasn’t spectacular, and his death wasn’t either. Falling off a stool was just laughable, but before he could even start begging death to take him back, a hand clasped around his wrist and he was suddenly pulled up, the world righting itself and he was still on the stool.

Zenitsu sat there, staring in shock at nothing.

Blankly, he could feel his wrists were wet. Aoi’s hands must have been wet. Wet. He screeched in horror, sending a sharp glare her way. “You flicked water on my face!” he said, or rather seethed. How cruel, how mean. This was not cute behavior at all. “I almost fell! I almost died! You saw me! I literally saw my life flash before my eyes! It wasn’t much, but that was my life! I saw my life! I’m too young to die!” 

‘It’s just a little water!” she said as she shook her head, a smile on her face. She thought it was funny that he almost died on the spot. 

He knows that it’s just a little water, he wasn’t eight , and he knows that the stool wasn’t that high! He knows he’s being overdramatic and that crying about it was a bit much, but he couldn’t help it! He couldn’t help the fact that he started to tremble, tears threatening to spill over and he had to choke back tears. Why was he crying? He’s already eleven, he doesn’t cry because he was just mildly shocked. He just whines, and---

“Hey, shush,” she said, nudging at him with a concerned look on her face, and he realizes that he did start crying. His body--- the true betrayer that it is--- has succumbed to the urge without him even realizing it. “Look, I didn’t mean to scare you like, alright? It was just a bit of fun,”

“Well, it wasn’t,”

“Yeah, I could tell,” she said, turning back to her dishes and rinsing the one that she was scrubbing earlier. “I really just wanted to assure you that I would catch you if you did fall.” She passed him the plate for him to wipe down and he accepted it, the repetitive motions of drying a plate by hand was surprisingly soothing. He was calmer now, being able to think things through, and he found that she was right. She did catch him. 

“Oh,” he finally said before placing the finished dish on the dishrack. In a weird sort of way, it did comfort him a little under all that stress. At least now, the fear of falling wasn’t as mind numbingly intense because it already happened. “Thank you.” 

Aoi beamed at that, nodding to herself as she continued scrubbing. “It’s okay,” she said, not looking up anymore. “I’m sorry for scaring you like that. Though you should know that that amount of clinginess and fear isn’t particularly normal.” That got him to pause and stare, tilting his head and he scrunched his face up.

“What do you mean?” he asked as he rubbed down another plate. 

She hummed thoughtfully. “Oh, just something to keep in mind,” she said, but he could hear it from her. The sound of her heart throbbing too quickly, her breath picking up speed and her blood rushing too quickly. It was the sound of an adrenaline rush, but he didn’t know why she was having it in the first place. Aoi, just like Shinobu, was full of mysteries that he honestly could not for the life of him understand. 

They settled into a silence that was a little uncomfortable with the way she was scrubbing the bowls and chopsticks so furiously, and how unnerved he is from hearing what she was saying under her breath. It was so soft that if it was anybody else in the room, they wouldn’t have heard it. However, he could hear it plain as day from where he sat next to her. 

“I always thought he was just being a whiny little shit,” she would say. “It all makes sense, but I don’t know why.” Which was all good and fun if he wasn’t like 97% sure she was talking about him and his older self. To her credit, he was a whiny little shit, but she was so full of energy and rage, he didn’t want to step in the middle of that. 

However, when the last plate was dried and put away, she was still fuming, so he asked with no small amount of caution, “Are you okay?” Her eyes snapped to him and he squeaked because honestly what a look. The look, of course, died down eventually and it mellowed down to hard eyes and a tight mouth. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she said before looking over the finished work they have done. “Wow, see. It wasn’t so bad. We finished it all even.” They did, didn’t they? Though the entire time wasn’t exactly a fun experience, it was nice to have finished something. The look on his face must have shown that he wasn’t super excited about finishing it because she started to fret. 

“What’s with that face, huh?” she asked, her eyebrows drawing closer together. Oh, no. Now she was annoyed. He waved his hands in front of his face in a placating gesture and shook his head.

“Nothing, nothing,” he said in a rush. She didn’t look that happy with that response though because she still stared at him with a hard look. Zenitsu swallowed thickly because he had no idea where all of this was leading up to. Why was she suddenly so huffy all of a sudden? 

She picked up the soap that they were using earlier to wash the dishes and ran it under some water. He tilted his head because he honestly did not know what she was planning to do. She rubbed her hands together with the soap and water before deeming it soapy enough and placing the soap back where it came from. She cupped her soapy hands over her mouth and blew through a hole at the end--- it was a bubble. 

It was released from her hands and it floated over to him. He couldn’t help but watch it in wonderment before it inevitably popped in front of his very nose and he blinked--- the spell of seeing a bubble come from Aoi’s hands like that was over and was replaced with the urge to know how to do it. 

“I wanna try it!” he said, gleefully and that was the right response because she laughed and handed him the soap when he started reaching for it with grabby hands. He grabbed a hold of the soap and rubbed against his hands as he dunked his hands into the sink’s water. He put away the soap, cupped his hands over his mouth, and blew.

Nothing came out. 

“Wha--” he said with a frown before trying again, blowing even harder than before. In this case, harder did not mean better because he was left with tiny suds flying from his clasped hands and a laughing Aoi who was too busy clutching her stomach because of the pained and frustrated look on Zenitsu’s face. “Ugh! See! I can’t even do this right...”

“Hey, c’mon,” she said, finally righting herself and picking up the soap and wetting it properly before taking a hold of his hands in hers. His face tinged pink, but he didn’t say anything more as she rubbed her hands and soap against his hands. “You hardly tried.” She guided his hands so that they were over the sink and she poured some water over his hands and helped him rub it some more, the suds growing ever so. 

Zenitsu huffed, but watched in amazement anyway. Aoi lifted her hands and cupped it carefully with one hand over the other, both tight so that no other air could escape, other than the hole at the end. He followed it, feeling a little unsure with his hand placement, and looked up at her who was nodding encouragingly. 

“There, perfect,” she said. “Now, you have to blow. Though it can’t be too hard because bubbles are incredibly gentle, but not too weak or there won’t be enough air in the bubble at all.” He blinked up at her because it made a lot more sense now. He breathed in deep, puffing his chest, and pressing his mouth on one end of his clasped hands and let out a soft, steady breath. 

Out came a bubble. 

It was small, barely bigger than his fist even, but it was big enough for Aoi to notice and congratulate him with a nod and a smile. He laughed, grinning genuinely and broadly for the first time in a while. It was, of course, too small to be set free so it popped in his hands when he jostled it too much, but he was told that that was just what happens sometimes. They continued blowing bubbles, probably wasting more soap and water than necessary, and letting the bubbles that were big enough to survive, float around freely for all the world to see. It was so distracting that he didn’t even notice another person enter the kitchen.

“Aoi?” a soft voice called from the door, the sound that came to mind was a pleasant, muted bell that was both comforting but unnerving. It was unlike any sound he’s heard as of yet in the Butterfly estate because, unlike Shinobu and Aoi who had sounds that were loud and almost near all-consuming, it was undercut by a low-level ring that made his head spin. 

They both turned to the voice and saw another pretty girl--- this place was the best??--- standing over there with an expressionless mask. Just like Aoi, Tanjirou and Inosuke, she wore the same uniform, but with a pleated skirt instead. However, unlike either of them, her breathing was breathing deeply, intentionally, and without any occasional hitches--- unlike Tanjirou or Inosuke--- which probably means she’s been doing her... breathing... longer than they have.

“Kanao!” Aoi exclaimed in surprise, letting go of her clasped hands as she stood to attention. She still had a smile on her face, but her posture spoke a lot of how she viewed the other girl--- a lot of respect. “What are you doing here?”

Kanao tilted her head a little and her smile brightened a little. “I was just looking for you,” she said, her voice, as gentle as it was, held an uncomfortable akinness to a statue’s, if they ever decide to talk, as she blinked at the two of them as if assessing their situation. “Are you blowing bubbles?” 

Aoi nodded, waving the soap up at her. “I was teaching Zenitsu how to blow bubbles using your hands and I guess it got a bit out of hand,” she said with a sheepish smile at her. She was given an assessing look and a nod in response before she walked over towards them. Neither of them expected her to do that, but there she was, standing over them. She looked at him, eyes shining as if she was taking the time to look at him. 

“You’re not blonde,” she said, simply. 

If that wasn’t obvious. Zenitsu couldn’t help but huff, feeling a little offended because yes, he wasn’t blonde. How he became a blonde was a mystery that no one would tell him about. 

“I’m going to make the biggest possible bubble.” she continued with an amused smile before she walked over to the sink, wet her hands, and rubbed soap on both of them. Zenitsu gawked, was she serious? She looked like the kind of girl who would never, but there she was standing innocently between him and Aoi as she cupped her hands together and blew.

Her breathing must do wonders for bubble blowing because she was not wrong. The bubble she was making was huge. It was about the size of the sink itself by the time she finished and let it out go with a quick flick of her rest. They all watched it float down onto the sink, sitting on the water for a couple of seconds, before it finally gave in and popped. 

Zenitsu yelled excitedly. “You have to show me how to do that! That was amazing! I’ve never seen anything like it before!” he gushed, watching as a genuine smile lit up her features--- the first real emotion he has seen on her face since she entered. He felt surprisingly proud of himself. “Wow, I would love you to be my wife, please!”

He was hit on the head by Aoi’s fist and he yelped, pouting up at her. “Hey, don’t just proposition Kanao like that.” she chided, shaking her head and wagging a finger at his face. He looked at Kanao, seeing her blank smile. Her eyes were showing a plethora of emotion though, as if she were at war with herself.

“I can teach you,” she finally said, with a smile. The war was won in her eyes because they finally settled into the muted purple from earlier, and his face split into a bright smile. “But I won’t marry you.”

He deflated at that. What’s the point of all these pretty girls if they all just reject him if he asks? 

“Oh,” he said with a pout. Kanao shook her head at him and wiped her hands clean of water and soap before patting him lightly on the head--- an apparently uncharacteristic action judging from the shocked, wide eyes of Aoi. 

“Show me what you got,” she said, and he did with his first bubble popping in front of his face after a split second of existing.

Chapter Text

It took Zenitsu thirty minutes, a lot of tears, one bruise and almost drowning before he could get the hang of blowing a proper bubble. Suffice it to say, it was one of the most stressful thirty minutes of his life considering the circumstances. 

“I’m sorry!” he whimpered, clutching pitifully at Aoi’s apron as he pouted up at her. “I didn’t mean to flood the kitchen! It just happened!!” She gave him the most unamused look he has ever received, which was an accomplishment in and of itself, and he squeaked in response, shrinking back. She was so scary. 

“I told you, didn’t I? Don’t tilt the basin too much! Look what happened!”

“It was an accident!”

She rolled her eyes, squeezing out some of the water from her rag onto a basin before continuing with the arduous task of cleaning up after him. He could completely understand why she was so irritated. Nearly everyone and everything got doused when Zenitsu tipped over the water they used for washing dishes. His clothes were soaked through, his hair was plastered to his forehead, and his socks made a squelch whenever he shifted his feet even slightly. 

He didn’t exactly feel great, and neither did Aoi. However, Kanao stood next to them, as dry as she was when she came in. How she managed that, he had no idea, but at least she was already picking up an extra rag to help them clean up. 

“It’s alright,” she muttered, sounding not alright at all. “These things happen sometimes.” Zenitsu wasn’t entirely convinced nor comforted by this, so he just picked up another rag and helped out with cleaning up the mess he made.

“At least you were able to blow a bubble in the end,” Kanao said, with a helpful lilt to her tone. He was starting to realize that the longer he stayed in her company, the more she opened up, but she still had the ring that permeated her sound in a way that he could just not shake. “I told you it was simple. It’s all about the breathing.” 

“It’s hard to be consistent with it though,” he muttered, wringing his rag. 

She smiled that vacant smile of hers, but there was just a touch of deviousness. It was like she was keeping a secret from him, but he doesn’t know what exactly. Her smile was so vaguely reminiscent of Shinobu's own that he had to physically take a step back. “Just keep going at it,” she said airily. “Do what we taught you.” 

It was sound advice if what they taught him wasn’t the most convoluted and difficult way to breathe that he has ever heard in his life. However, he didn’t protest because he was already in so much trouble for spilling all that water on the wooden floorboards. Now they would get ruined and it was all his fault! He sniffled pitifully because what use was he? He was supposed to help dry dishes, but in the end he just wet all the dishes all over again. Was he really that good for nothing? He couldn’t even blow a bubble right. He was just---

“Hey.”

Zenitsu’s eyes snapped up to look at Aoi’s eyes--- less irritated and more hard concern now--- staring back at him. She had a hand pressed to his back--- wet, but everything was wet what would he expect--- and he realized with a start that he was crying again. There were tears running down his cheeks in steady streams and snot in his nose. He bit his trembling lip to try and get control of it all, but was failing miserably. Ah, well. He wasn’t very good at not crying, was he? 

“This is really fine, y’know?” she said, her voice calm and stern. It was surprisingly comforting. “This isn’t the first time a part of the house got flooded. We do have Inosuke as a frequent visitor after all, and when that guy first came in here and saw the bathroom toilet, he went ballistic.” 

He snorted. As little as he knew of Inosuke, what he did know was that he would do that. No questions asked. He was as feral as they come, and it shows. He gave a watery smile, but wasn’t too convinced. He has stopped crying though which was a plus. 

“Here,” a towel was nudged at his shoulder and he looked at Kanao. “Clean up, or you’ll get sick.” The way she said it sounded like she was copying someone else, but the intention was still there. It was the subtle sound of sincerity that almost made him want to cry again because it sounded so surprisingly genuine.

“But--”

“GO!” Aoi snapped, nudging him slightly to the door. “We are not going to have another sick kid around here! Two of you guys are enough already as it is!” The door shut behind him and he gave a high pitched squeak. He turned around and the door was firmly shut. Zenitsu’s face pinched as he looked at the fluffy, bright pink towel in his arms that was softer than anything he’s ever had the luxury to touch. 

Despite being kicked out of the kitchen, he smiled and rubbed the towel on his hair roughly to try and dry it.

The estate was huge without anyone to guide him places. The only thing he had to go on was that there were dry clothes down by the corridor. It was a very straight forward instruction. As long as he kept walking, he would find clothes eventually. What he didn’t expect was that there would be this many rooms. There were at least ten rooms on one side! 

Zenitsu breathed in, out, in, out. Until he suddenly couldn’t stop because oh, he was going to die. He could feel it. There wasn’t any air in his lungs anymore, and his throat just kept constricting, and he gripped the towel in his hands painfully. His chest hurt and he wanted to vomit all over the floor. 

This was fine. Everything was fine.  

He screwed his eyes though and tried to focus on something else--- anything else. His clothes were cold and his socks were uncomfortable. He was probably trekking water all over the house even more. He tried to pick up sounds--- any that he could find--- and heard the loud exclamations of Inosuke on the other side of the estate mixed with Tanjirou’s own sound, the chatter of Aoi and Kanao in the kitchen, and… 

There it was. Something he could focus on. 

It was a sound that was so different from everybody else’s. It was a little unnerving, but it calmed him down. It was surprisingly loud--- closer than he expected--- but it grounded him long enough for him to breathe slowly. It was a long time before he could finally breathe easy and he opened his eyes. There was someone in this corridor other than Aoi and Kanao, and he wondered if they could help him with his clothes problem. He swallowed thickly and followed his ears. 

And oh, how he was betrayed.

He was led to the darkest corner of the corridor. It was shrouded in shadow, strategically placed to face directly away from the sun at its peak afternoon hours, and looked to be occupying a good portion of the space. Zenitsu anxiously looked at the rest of the corridor, and then back at the door. They wouldn’t keep anything dangerous here, would they? This was some kind of hospital of some sort, so they wouldn’t… Right? He turned the knob and peeked his head in. 

He was brought back to a couple of hours earlier in the darkness of the forest. Three heartbeats, three sounds, two people. This was the third person. The one with the sound that was muffled, like it was being heard through thick glass, but sounded almost just like Tanjirou’s, and a heartbeat that was far too slow to be human. He gulped, eyes flickering to the lump on the bed, and had to stop. If that sound wasn’t human, then what was it. 

Demon, his subconsciousness whispered and he gave a high-pitched shriek. Oh, he was too young to die. He was a good person! Why did he have to die at the ripe old age of eleven, huh?! That was just unfair! He hadn’t even gotten a wife, or a family yet! If he manages to survive, he should write a formal complaint to Shinobu about the dangers of keeping demons inside her hou---

The demon sprang up from her bed, bright pink eyes blazing at him and a bamboo muzzle firmly on her mouth. She was older than he was and looked vaguely familiar, but that didn’t matter at the moment because every ounce of fear in him vanished because the demon was a cute girl. A very cute girl.

This changes things.

She gave him a tilt of her head, questioning and confused as he gave him a once over, hovering several inches over his head before staring harder at his hair and then down at his face. Yes, his hair was not blonde. It was not as big a novelty as everyone thought it was, thank you very much. This girl, despite being a demon, was not attacking him. He didn’t know if it was common demon behaviour, but he was not going to just shoot a gift horse in the mouth, so he took a tentative step forward, and another, until he was at the foot of the bed. 

She was pretty--- big, bright eyes and cute, delicate features--- which made him want to gawk at her and blush. She looked so familiar though. If he were to pick apart the different aspects of her appearance, he would find a connection he did not expect. However, as pretty as she was, her sound was discordant and hard to listen to at times. It just gave off the impression of wrong that he couldn’t shake if he tried.

“Hello,” Zenitsu prompted, hoping to disrupt the uncomfortable sound that made his ears twitch. She just blinked at him--- not even a twitch in response--- which made him just want to turn around and go. He furrowed his brows, but continued forward because who was he if not persistent! “You’re really pretty! Are you a demon? Will you marry me anyway??” 

She hummed, her face brightening like she recognized that he would say that--- oh, she was so cute. She pressed a hand on her muzzle, signaling that she was a demon. It took him a moment to realize just how sharp her nails were. He gulped unsteadily. At least she didn’t say no to his proposal? That was a win in his book.

He pushed on, trying to keep up this odd conversation. “Is that to stop you from… eating people? Is that what demons do?”

Another nod. 

“But you don’t?” 

A nod.

Zenitsu tilted his head, thinking of what else to say before clapping his hands in excitement. “What else can you do then? Y’know… since you’re the first demon I’ve ever met…” The girl blinked at him, her eyes shining as she tried to think. She shifted from her seat slightly to face him. Curiously, she held a hand out and then clenched her fist tightly. 

Zenitsu squinted in suspicion and almost yelled in shock as droplets of blood fell on the floor at his feet. 

“Hey! What are you doing?!” he said, shaking his head as he tries to stop her from hurting herself even more. This was just so weird. Every single girl in this house was cute, but not marriage material? Only his luck could get this terrible apparently. He fluttered around her, trying and failing to figure out how to help. He held out his towel. “Here! Let me help you clean it up or something! I’m so---”

The blood burst into flames and Zenitsu shot up six feet into the air with a shriek that was sure to attract everyone in the house’s attention. 

“Wha-- Huh?! But how?!” He scrambled as far away from the fire as possible, his eyes already streaming with tears because this was not his day. “I’m too young to die! I can’t die yet! This is the worst day of my life!” She huffed, holding up the flame to her face, the color a flickering pink, before beckoning him forward. 

Zenitsu was not dumb enough to even try and move anywhere near there now. 

The girl tilted her head, a low hum of disappointment was the only thing that could be heard from her muzzle, and he would now like to formally retract his previous statement. He approached her, cautiously, but was still close enough that her face brightened up again. 

“You… You stopped bleeding,” he said dumbly. There wasn’t anymore blood dripping from her hand, but all that was left was fire, sitting prettily on her hand. This close he could almost feel it--- it was warm. He looked up at her, but her gaze was focused on only the fire that was steadily burning on her fingertips.

“It’s not burning you,” he murmured. “But how?” She tilted her head at him, pondering the questioning tone of his voice, before tugging his hand closer to hers by the wrist--- her hands were so soft!--- and without warning, placed some of the fire on his hand.

It was warm and it didn’t hurt. 

He gave a shocked laugh because this was just too much. Zenitsu’s eyes flickered to meet hers and she looked quite proud of herself behind her muzzle. She reached forward and the fire spread even more making him squeak in surprise. It didn’t do anything to him and it was surprisingly comforting to feel the crackle of the flames surround his person with warmth. 

“Wow,” he gasped in wonder. “It’s so warm… How do you— How could this be?” The girl, in response, just blinked up at him with a cute, blank expression on her face. Right. The muzzle. “Do you want me to… remove the—?” He gestured to the bamboo on her face. She gave him a wide eyed stare before firmly shaking her head and pressing a hand to his and pushing it away. Okay, so no. That didn’t deter him however and the smile on his face doesn’t change. 

The fire eventually died down and when he patted his clothes and hair, they were dry. Zenitsu blinked in surprise before his smile spread even wider. “Thank you so much! This was...” He honestly couldn’t say what it was, but it was an undoubtedly kind thing to do, so he just scratched his head nervously. “...so nice. Really.”

She gave a pleased sound as she nodded, her eyes glittering. The girl reached a hand to pat him on his head affectionately before giving a sleepy sound and collapsing back onto her bed, curling up, and going back to sleep without another word. Zenitsu could only stare at her sleeping face for a couple of beats because this was the oddest interaction he had had by far before his eyes turned to the floor where some fire was weakly putting itself out. 

“Huh,” he said, musing a little at the pink fire before pressing a hand to the flame. He recoiled instantly in pain, barreling backwards with a yelp. Gone was the warm and comforting feeling from earlier, but now the tips of his fingers were burning a bright red and starting to blister. He gave a pained whimper before turning and leaving the room with a soft thud. “Ow… That hurt.”

When Tanjirou found him cradling a hand to his chest, Zenitsu was not crying uncontrollably. He was just snivelling pitifully, alright. There was a big difference. 

“Oh! Zenitsu,” he greeted with a smile before stopping in his tracks at the teary-eyed look he was given. His face contorted to confusion as he gave him a once over as he tried to look for what it was that was causing him pain and found that his hand was the likely culprit. He approached him and pulled his hand closer for inspection. “Whoa! What happened? Are you okay?” 

“I got burned, of course I’m not okay!” he wailed because wow it stung, oh. The blisters got worse. He whimpered into his clothes and wiped the snot on his sleeve. “And, um. I may have touched an open flame.” 

Tanjirou gave him a look. 

“Stop looking at me like that! It was-- It was a demon’s fire. It didn’t hurt earlier, so I just figured…” Zenitsu trailed off, turning his head a little because even to his ears it just sounded so impossible. However, he received a hum in response and calloused hands gently pulled his burnt hand away from his body. He was briefly reminded of the scene he caused earlier, and he wanted to melt into the floor out of embarrassment, but didn’t protest. 

“Well, at least it isn’t that bad,” he said gently after a moment of looking it over. “We’ll have to cool your wound with some water to ease the pain, of course, and ask for some bandages, but you’ll be fine.” He nodded, still shaking, but was feeling a little better. 

“Oh-- Okay. That’s… yeah, fine.” he said weakly, taking deep breaths. He was better, not okay. 

When they arrived in the bathroom--- which was just down the hall and was quite small considering the size of the estate--- Zenitsu sat next to a water basin with his hand outstretched over it as Tanjirou poured cool water over the wound. It helped, and it finally got him to calm down enough to look at the other properly. There weren’t any obvious dressings on his person, but there was the unmistakable sound of shifting bandages under clothes. 

“The demon’s name is Nezuko,” he prompted as he poured another stream of water on his wound. Nezuko, huh? It sounded fitting. “She’s my sister.” 

“Your sister?” 

“Yeah. Before she turned into a demon, she was just my younger sister.” 

Zenitsu bit his lip. That’s why she looked so vaguely familiar. She looked like Tanjirou. “Oh,” he finally said, tilting his head a little to the side. He shifted in his seat and his unoccupied hand twitched nervously. “I’m sorry about earlier, you sound injured.” 

Tanjirou shrugged, smiling a little. “It’s okay, I’ve had worse.” 

“That’s not a good thing!” 

“My job is dangerous!”

“Then why do it?!”

He wasn’t given a response, just a silence that hung heavy in the air. Zenitsu could put two and two together--- he was doing it for his sister. He worried his lip, curling and uncurling his fist on his lap. He didn’t like the silence, so he broke it. “You’re friends with my older self, right?”

Tanjirou’s eyebrows lifted slightly as he tilted his head. “Yeah, why?” 

“What was I like?” 

He hummed in thought, his face twisted in concentration. “Well, when I first met you, you were throwing yourself at random girls on the street and asking them to marry you in tears.”

Zenitsu couldn’t help but flush. He really doesn’t change, does he? He really is still single though. Tanjirou was full on smiling now though as he reminisced. 

“You gave me back half my rice ball once because you found out I didn’t have anymore to eat with because I gave it to you.”

He frowned. Well, that was just basic human decency, wasn’t it? “Okay, what else?” he asked.

“You’re terrified of demons,” he said before shaking his head. “No, that’s not entirely it. I think you were mostly terrified of dying. When I first met you, I didn’t like that attitude of yours, you know? Throwing yourselves at girls who didn’t want you, and being too scared and begging in tears for other people to protect you.” 

“Then what changed your mind?”

He smiled at that before looking at him in the eye, dark red eyes sparking with an emotion he couldn’t particularly place. “You grew up into a good person, Zenitsu. One of the best I know actually.”

Zenitsu frowned, twisting his face into uncertainty. “Really?” he asked, dubious at just how contradicting he was. 

Tanjirou laughed a little at that. “Yes, really,” he said just as he stopped pouring water over his burn. “Does it still hurt?” The conversation they were having took him away from the pain entirely and he was able to forget it, but as he looked it over--- the burn was still an ugly red of peeling skin and blisters--- it didn’t hurt nearly as much. 

He shook his head in reply and he stood up. “Alright,” he said, nodding his head as he walked over to a towel and wiped his hands. “Let’s look for some bandages and you’ll be fine!” 

That was a comforting thought, he could admit, but there was just one more burning question that he wanted to know. The look that Tanjirou had when they were talking sparked it to begin with after all. “Do you miss my older self?”

Zenitsu watched as he ran a hand over his neck in a sheepish gesture. “Well, it’s only really been a few hours,” he said, but his smile dimmed slightly anyway. “But yeah, I do.”

Chapter Text

When Zenitsu woke up the next morning, he nearly forgot where he was and what was going on around him. Everything was just a little different and entirely off-kilter. The bed was just a little too soft and the blanket a little thicker than normal. It was what finally clicked in his head that this wasn’t the orphanage he grew up in, but the Butterfly Estate. He breathed in deeply and let his ears pick up the sound of clanging dishes from afar and the buzz of people just starting to wake up. 

He shifted out of bed, the creaking of the bed frame ringing in his ears in the quiet of the room, making his breath hitch. He looked over at his other two companions that were sleeping soundly in the other beds. Inosuke was splayed on the bed with a blanket covering his half-naked torso, and still wearing his mask. Tanjirou, on the other hand, looked a lot more serene.

He swallowed, slowly lowering himself onto the floor until his bare feet hit it with an inaudible thud. It didn’t take him long to leave after that, closing the door almost soundlessly behind him. He closed his eyes and gave a sigh of relief, letting his shoulders drop. 

“Good morning, Zenitsu,”

Zenitsu jumped in surprise, stumbling backwards as he chokes down a scream. His head hit the door that he just closed solidly with a thud. He gave a distressed whine and frowned, pressing his hands onto the back of his head feeling the dull ache from the impact. 

“Oh, I’m sorry I surprised you,” came the light voice of what he could only pinpoint as Shinobu’s. She sounded apologetic, but when he tilted his head up to look at her, her eyes were glimmering. He huffed, extremely put-out. 

“You could warn a guy or something,” he mumbled, shaking his head at her. She just smiled, patting him gently on the head, making him squirm.

“Ah, but where’s the fun in that?” she mused with a knowing grin. Zenitsu couldn’t help but squawk indignantly, the noise louder than he anticipated because he slapped a hand over his mouth when he heard an enraged grumbling over the door that signalled a stirring Inosuke. Shinobu winked at him, pressing a finger to her lips. “Better be quiet. It’s still early, and I have other patients, you know.” 

He couldn’t help the shame that burned right through him, the tips of his ears warmed, and he gave a soft grumble. He, of course, didn’t fight her on this. He just slumped and conceded that yes, it was probably early. “What time is it anyway?” he asked, tilting his head back up to face her. 

“It’s time for me to change your bandages,” she replied, nodding at the bandage that was wrapped loosely around his hand. He couldn’t help but subconsciously reach for it, the burn on it was worse than he and Tanjirou initially anticipated when they got it to her. Much of the skin was peeling off, leaving a bright pink layer underneath that swelled in a way that almost made him vomit on the spot. 

Zenitsu didn’t vomit, of course. He just cried himself out enough to faint.

He cringed, feeling the phantom tingles that he felt at the burned area. “Are you sure? Isn’t it a little early for that?” 

“Well, yes,” she said, nodding along with him. “But I also want to see how well your burn is healing considering the circumstances.” She tilted her head as a gesture to follow her as she walked over to her office. 

“Why?” he asked, following after her. She opened the door for them both and he entered, sitting on one of the chairs that she gestured at. She was already moving around the office, pulling out bandages and everything else she might need.

“Well,” Shinobu began as she sat down on her chair and adjusted it so that she was comfortably in reach of his injured hand. “It’s hard to explain, but Tanjirou’s sister’s Blood Demon Art, as far as we know, doesn't affect humans.” She tugged at the bandages and let it unravel, exposing the bright pink burns. 

“What do you mean doesn’t affect humans?” Zenitsu asked with a grimace, pointedly looking away. He could feel her gently remove it, grazing the still tender injury and making him hiss in pain. 

She hummed in thought as she looked it over before reaching for the ointment that was sitting comfortably on her lap. “It means,” she said as her fingers twisted the cap on it with practiced ease before lathering a generous amount on the stinging pain, letting the cooling effect do its thing. “That it only affects demons and their Blood Demon Arts.”

“Ow, ow, ow,” he whined, shaking his head and was trying to pull his hand away. She gripped his hand tighter to keep him steady, making him yelp.

“Don’t squirm so much,” Shinobu said, her voice firm. 

“I’m trying not to!!”

She sighed, shaking her head, and wiped her hands on a towel that she placed on her lap before reaching for the bandages. She hummed in thought as she unspooled a little bit from the roll. “How are you so far, by the way? Have you been feeling any different since yesterday?” 

Zenitsu shook his head, clenching his teeth slightly. He felt the slight prickle of tears at the corners of his eyes and he burned with the need to swallow thickly. “Other than in pain now, not really,” he replied, kicking his legs a little in his chair. He bumps the chair she was sitting in and stopped abruptly, stiffening for a split second before stopping. “Should I-- I mean, am I supposed to feel any different?”

She shrugged. “Ideally, for the better, yes,” she said, cutting out some medical tape and securing the excess bandages to his wrist that it would stay put. It was just as loose but secure as before. “But if, for some reason, it gets worse, it would be best if you told us.” 

He shifted uncomfortably once she let go of his arm. “What would worse be?” he asked, the waver in his voice was apparent to anyone who was unfortunate enough to listen to their conversation. Shinobu didn’t answer right away, moving to a jug she had on her table and a glass that sat just as innocuously. 

“It’s best to not think too much about it,” she said, pouring in a white liquid, with little bits floating inside of it, into the small glass. She offered it to him with a disarming smile. He couldn’t help but reach for it. “Just tell me or any of the girls if you start feeling any different, yeah?” 

Zenitsu nodded before his eyes flickered down to the beverage in his hand. It didn’t look particularly appetizing and made his face pinch. It could be medicine.He sniffed it experimentally and it smelled vaguely sweet. He pulled a face, it was probably medicine. “Should I drink this?”

“I’d advise you to, yes,” Shinobu said as she put away her things.

“Is it medicine?” 

“In a way.”

“In what way?”

“The pain will be easier to handle--”

“Does it taste bad?”

“Just drink it,” she said as calmly as possible, but her voice was strained as she shut the cabinet door a little too roughly, the bang barely shaking the cabinet itself but was enough to resonate around the room. He jumped slightly in response with a squeak. The drink spilled over onto his clothes and uninjured hand. He scowled and couldn’t help the gripe that escaped him. It wasn’t his fault! He couldn’t even wipe his hand down because his other hand was currently out of order.

He steeled himself by clenching his eyes shut and taking a small sip. It was sweet. It was good. He gasped in surprise, immediately brightening up. “Wow! This doesn’t taste that bad,” he said before taking a heartier gulp. He finished it almost immediately and just as Shinobu promised, the pain started to dull in the background. 

She hummed, taking the used cupr and handing him a towel to dry himself off with. “Tastes sweet, right?” she said with a slight smile, looking at him. “I figured it would make taking pain killers a little easier on you. Of course, there isn’t a lot in it to begin with.”

“Yeah, it was,” Zenitsu said as he finished wiping himself down with the towel-- the clothes he was wearing were still wet and sticky and his hands still had a lingering sweet smell to it-- before he handed it back to her. 

“Good, that means we’re done,” she said with a nod and the familiar smile that graced her features since he’d met her. Nonetheless, he still stood up from his seat on the chair and towards the door. “You should go ahead and eat breakfast. I’m sure Aoi is finished with cooking right about now.” 

Zenitsu found that he was having a little difficulty in looking for where they were having breakfast. He has only been here for a day and everything still only looked vaguely familiar at best. He turned around the corner and found himself face to face with an open window and billowing curtains. He gave an irritated sigh-- a dead end. 

This was just getting ridiculous.  

He could hear the clanging of plates and the soft chatter in his peripheral hearing, so it couldn’t be that far. However, he found himself reaching for the window anyway and looking out into the gardens. He had been inside for most of yesterday and hadn’t been able to fully digest the grounds of the estate. Just when he came here, the sounds of birds and butterflies were apparent, but the calmness of listening to the cool morning breeze whistle past him as it rustled the trees was symphonic in a way that made him almost forget that he burned his hand yesterday.

He picked at the bandage, pulling at the knot at the base of his palm, while he looked up at the sky and the trees that blocked it. However, what caught his eye wasn’t the light blue of the sky, or the way the leaves fell, no. It was the beady-eyed looking crow that sat on the branch close to the estate giving him a peculiar look. 

“Huh?” Zenitsu asked himself as he tilted his head in confusion, squinting at the bird. It gave a shrill squawk that made him uneasy before fluttering its wings and taking off straight towards him without any warning whatsoever. “What-- AH!” He screeched as he barrelled away from the window. 

The crow changed directions mid-flight and took a sharp turn. He clutched his heart with his hand and felt a ringing in his ears. His heart was beating way too fast, and he couldn’t stop himself from breathing deeply. 

He almost died. He just saw his life flash before his very eyes! There must be some record of death by crows somewhere because he was sure that bird looked particularly murderous. He steeled himself and peeked out of the window again, hoping that the bird left. 

It did. However, there was a window that was now open when it previously wasn’t. Zenitsu furrowed his eyebrows-- wasn’t that Shinobu’s office? He bit his lip and backed away from the window, slowly and not entirely sure of what was going on. 

“Good morning, Zenitsu!” 

He screamed in surprise. 

He turned around and found the trio of small girls that flitted around the house as a group and helped around with the chores. Unlike Kanao and Aoi, who wore a demon slayer uniform, they just wore matching white nurse’s outfits instead. With the butterflies in their hair, they complemented the house and the rest of its residents quite nicely. Just from looking at each of one of them, he could tell that they were younger and shorter than he was. It would have been a refreshing relief to be surrounded by others closer to his own age if his heart wasn’t palpitating so much.

“It’s time for breakfast!” a different voice piped up coming from the girl with pretty ponytails up at the base of her head. 

“What were you looking at?” another asked as she tilted her head, her braids swinging behind her as she did so. 

“Why are you so pale?” the same voice from earlier followed up with a concerned frown.

Zenitsu helplessly clutched at his chest, his mouth dry and his breaths coming out in heavy puffs of air. “What is with this house and catching people off-guard?!” he groused, shaking his head. "Do you realize what that could do to someone's health?!? My heart could have stopped!" They tilted his head at him in confusion. They did it at once, but it didn’t upset him as much as it should have. 

“Oh, we’re sorry we scared you!” the girl with the braided hair said with a slight pout and a crease in her brow, pressing her hands to her face.

“It was all Sumi’s fault anyway, Naho.”

“Hey!” Sumi, from what he could tell, said with well-deserved annoyance. “It wasn’t my fault, Kiyo! Aoi said to tell people that breakfast was ready, I was just doing what I was told!” 

Kiyo giggled, hands behind her back as she balanced dangerously on the heel of her slippers. “You should know he gets scared easily!” she replied, with a slight pout on her lips. Zenitsu pursed his lips because she wasn’t wrong, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be a little irritated.

Naho sighed before turning to him with a soft smile as she tilted her head, “Anyway, do you need help getting to the dining room?”

Zenitsu’s eyes lit up before throwing himself at them with a slight sob. “Yes! I’ve been lost for the past fifteen minutes because this house is so unnecessarily big and the birds apparently want to kill you for absolutely no reason!” 

The girls furrowed their eyebrows, turning to one another with bewilderment written all over their faces. “Murderous… birds?” Sumi asked before realization dawned on her. “You mean Kasugai Crows?” 

He sniffled, confused, but nodded anyway. “What are those?”

“Smart crows that deliver messages for demon slayers.” 

“Then why was it aiming for me?!” 

Naho shrugged. “Maybe you looked at it funny?” 

Zenitsu squawked, scrambling backwards-- face twisted in horror for a moment before flickering back to distress in barely a moment’s notice. He pressed his hands to his face and let out a strangled sound before he stuttered out, “That’s not real! I didn’t! Crows won’t know! It’s not even possible, there isn’t even any proof!”

They shared a look-- all furrowed eyebrows and baffled eyes-- before Kiyo piped up. “Do you want us to show you to the dining room or not?” 

“How can I when I’m not even sure if my life’s in danger!” he hissed, running his hands down the sides of his face. “I heard crows remember human faces and would tell their friends about it! I could be Crow Public Enemy Number One as we speak! I could never step foot outside again! I’m--”

Naho turned a worried glance at the rest of her companions, but they were already walking away. She gave a soft squeak before hurrying over towards them too. Zenitsu scrambled after them, moving in step beside them as he insistently tugged at the ends of his bandages, wincing slightly at the slight burn that it caused. 

“They were very valid concerns…” he mumbled before flickering his eyes up towards them, “Would either of you at least consider marrying me?”

“No!” they said firmly in scary unison, making him both shudder in fear and feel despondent in an odd amalgamation of emotions. He huffed, sniffling at them as he was drawn in by the unmistakable smell of food and the chatter that sounded suspiciously like an overeager Inosuke.