Work Text:
Hopes and dreams are for the privileged. Zenitsu beliefs so. A boy from a normal middle class family can hope to achieve something. Because they have means to, they have what is needed to accomplish something. Thus they have rights to hope. To dream.
A street scum like Zenitsu, however, can only taking chances. It has been that way since the first time he was able to remember. His parents gave him a chance to live, at the very least, but after that it was a blur of being at the mercy of somebody's hands. He doesn't have any right to be picky with the kind of love--or pity--being thrown at him. If one said it's love, and if that love could pull him through another day, then it's love that he would take. No matter what 'the sound' told him.
The sound. More than he hates being born unwanted, he hates that he was born with 'the sound' and his growing ability to use it. All kind of sounds come to him and learning how to categorize it becomes sort of an instinct from early age. He remembers every sound he'd heard. He even thinks that he remembered how his mother sounded: a hurried, thunderous beat that pricked his entire being for a while and then rolled away as fast as she could. It was the first sound he remembered. It was a horrible sound. It was the first sound he associated with love.
Probably that's why he always gravitated towards the thundering sounds of women. Now, you know, the curse and blessing of being born with 'the sound' is that you will sooner rather than later recognize that every living being lives with fluctuating sound. There's no such thing as people with bad sound or people with good sound. Even the kindest of people have a mix of bad sound in them--pity, disgust, anger--and the most beautiful sound today can be an awful and screeching noise tomorrow. That's why Zenitsu just decide to trust. He takes chances to trust those females with thunderous beats, and try to believe that one day the sound of storm will dissipate and there's more chance for him. For hope. For live.
They didn't.
The last woman with thunderous beat who swore that she would be happier if Zenitsu could provide her some money to live happily, she was gone. Just like his mother, she rolled away out of his reach before he could see the storm dissipated. He failed once again. He was no hero once again. He was useless once again.
"That is not love, Zenitsu," Gramps said, a month after taking him in. He is a man with a sound like he has an eternal dark clouds hanging above him. There's something dark and chilly in it, but also refreshing at the same time. But Gramps is kind despite the bitterness in his sound. Or else why would he wants to pay all of his debts and took him? Zenitsu at least decided to trust on that.
"Then, is this love?" Zenitsu wailed from the peak of the highest tree he could climb, "Train me to death, make me dodge traps that surely will kill me, hit me so much? I know I'm useless, but I can do normal jobs to pay my debt, you know?"
"You've agreed that this is the only way you will pay me back!" Gramps hollered up from below him. "Get back here, Zenitsu!"
"I KNOW!! But I can't! This is impossible for me! Why can't you just accept that?"
Why didn't Gramps just leave? Even though he said multiple times that he couldn't do this, why did Gramps still want him to train? People used to leave him alone when he said he couldn't do something, so why not Gramps? Is this love? Is love is persistence, even though you work on something useless? Is love means to keep trusting on someone and stay by his side until he is able to do it?
"I love you, Gramps!" Zenitsu declared right before the lightning struck him and frizzled his hair to yellow-ish color. Because despite the bitterness of his sound, there would be times when Gramps' sound would clear a little, warm with a little peek of sunshine through dark clouds and tiny droplets of rain like it's a fox's wedding*. If it's love, it's a peculiar kind of love. It's hard and most of the time challenging, but Zenitsu would do anything to hear the warm sound that always shyly hide behind the rumbling clouds.
Even though that means he needed to go to a mountain full with the most horrible sound imaginable, tried to survive seven days--which he didn't know how but he did anyway--and went back shaking and halfway thinking that he's dead. He'd did it. And the smile on Gramps' face when he's back, the pitter-patter sound of his heart when he hugged Zenitsu, it was all worth it.
"You will achieve great things, my boy," Gramps said with pride thrumming in his throat when Zenitsu's sword turned yellow with lightning pattern on it, "I'm sure of it."
Zenitsu cried, then. Because the way Gramps said it makes Zenitsu beliefs that he can do anything, achieves anything, and doing great on it. And Zenitsu couldn't bring himself to tell the old man that it was mere luck that brought him this far. That it was just a series of successful chances he was taking that brought him here. A draft went right, nothing more and nothing less. Because a street scum like him would never have any mean or power to achieve something. He wouldn't even dare to hope for it.
But he at least know now that Gramps' prideful and warm voice is something that he can achieve if he's trying hard enough. Unlike those women with thunderous hearts, for the first time he beliefs that he can make someone's storm dissipates enough to keep him around.
It's enough achievement for him. As long as he can make Gramps happy, then living with his life on the line every day like this is not bad. He may get scared, he may whines, but as long as he tries his best then maybe dying on the mission won't be as regrettable as giving up without trying at all. He never hopes he can live a secure and happy life like other people, anyway. Just chance by chance to make people around him have a more happy life is enough.
"Zenitsu!"
A whooshing sound comes followed by a gentle and beautiful sound that envelops him like a blanket. Zenitsu automatically reaches out for it and let himself being lulled by the warmth.
"Thank God! Hold on, I think the Kakushis are nearby."
Zenitsu opens his eyes to a familiar burgundy hair and green-and-black haori. And a smile as warm as the sun. Although now that smile is a bit shaky--or is it his eyes?
"Tanjirou..."
Right. Tanjirou. The boy with the gentlest sound that vibrating and resonating indefinitely, vastly reaching out to everyone and everything around him, even to demons. It's the first time Zenitsu ever heard a sound so open and pure, a sound that is so easily resonate with everything. Zenitsu is always amazed with the sound, yet scared at the same time. Unlike Gramps' voice, Zenitsu cannot predict where is the limit of that gentleness, where it will break and snap, and what will happened when it does. Zenitsu fears the time when it happened.
Isn't that why he's tailing Tanjirou whenever he can? He may be weak, but if he can at least protect that sound so it can stay gentle and pure for a little while more.... Would Gramps forgive him if he used his useless self to hope for something that selfish?
"Tanjirou...?"
"Yeah, yeah. I'm here, Zenitsu. Nezuko's here, too. Inosuke's a bit far but he's save, too. You're okay."
Ah, yeah. Nezuko and Inosuke. They're fighting together again but he didn't remember what happened. He rarely remembers what happened, but he always wakes up from a mission bloody and hurt but lucky he's still alive. Tanjirou must have protected him again. So much for hoping about protecting somebody. Even now he can't feel his legs and arms.
His heart stutters when realization and panic comes like a cold splash.
"I-I'm not okay, though?" he stammered, "My whole body numbs? Wh-why I can't feel my legs and arms? Am I going to die, Tanjirou? Ooh, I know, you're talking this soft to me to send me off gently, aren't you? My wound is fatal, isn't it?"
"You're okay, Zenitsu." The reply was a bit stern than what Zenitsu was anticipating. Usually Tanjirou would let him know that he was okay with a kind voice, encouraging him all the way to the Butterfly Estate. But now there's a shaky edge to his voice, as if he's trying to convince himself--
Oh.
Now he can feel the pressure on his side. It's as warm as Tanjirou's hands. A new wave of panic washed over him, but Tanjirou's expression shut him up.
"Tanji---"
"You're OKAY!" Tanjirou cut him off harshly before catching himself, "Just--hold on. Just stay with me. Breathe. The Kakushis are coming, I can hear them. You should be able, too."
"Alright..." Zenitsu trails off and do what he was told. He focuses on his breathing to slow down whatever happened on his side and tries to find the sound of the Kakushis. They are at most five minutes away from them. He can also hears Inosuke's rumbling sound, a bit weaker but still going on, not too far from him while Nezuko's chilly sound is a tad stronger. They are fine. Thank God.
A stuttering wave washes upon him and he looks at Tanjirou again. He can't make the most of Tanjirou's face now since his focus blurs to compensate the energy needed for his breathing, but it sounds like he is in pain.
"Are you hurt, Tanjirou? You should tend to your wounds first instead of tending--"
"I'm fine," Tanjirou cuts him off again, voice getting sharper by every words, "Because Zenitsu took most of the blow for me."
Oh.
So he was able to be useful for once. So this numbness is not for nothing.
"Is that so," he chuckles, "I'm glad."
"Don't--" Tanjirou hissed. "Just FOCUS, Zenitsu. I need you to stay with me."
"Aah... can I, though...?" Zenitsu whispers. His breathing staggers but Tanjirou presses his hands down harder to force his breathing back. ".......stay with you..."
"Of course you can!" Tanjirou is practically shouting now, seemingly forget his decision to speak softly. "Zenitsu is an important person for me!"
There is a flutter in Zenitsu's chest and he thinks his breath is about to falter again. But soon his face feels warm and a grin automatically blooms on his lips.
"What can you do without me, huh...?"
"Yes, I can't do it without Zenitsu, so please stay with me..."
"If you say so..."
It may be just because Tanjirou is kind, the words may have been told to so many others with the same amount of kindness, and Zenitsu may be not that important if someone's important for Tanjirou means everybody he touches with his vast and accepting warmth, but it doesn't mean it is less genuine. Zenitsu can hear how Tanjirou means every words faithfully. Right here, right now, for Zenitsu only. And that's enough. If he could keep that gentle sound alive and true, that was already enough achievement for him.
Zenitsu closes his eyes to let Tanjirou's sound anchors him and let his breathing focused once more. His consciousness is fading, but the Kakushis are mere minute away now, so soon he will be fine. Tanjirou and Inosuke will be fine. They will be fine.
Dear God, if God was there, Zenitsu wanted to rant that his whole life has been sucks. He knows very well that a street scum like him shouldn't be so greedy thinking that he has the right to hope and dream like other people. But if God would be so kind to grant him a simple hope, let him be able to take a chance to stay beside this person and to be someone strong enough to protect the happiness of those he hold most dear. Even though it was just for a little while.
If God grants him just that, Zenitsu swears he will try as hard as he can every day.