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Snow burned at his fingertips, his knees wet from kneeling at the garden and Tanjirou sat up straight as a chill shot down his spine. He wondered if he’d ever truly get used to the cold, but even with how many winters he’d experienced in his young lifetime, he still couldn't help the shivers that rattled his body. His skin was pink as he pulled the vegetables from the dirt, placing them in a nearby basket for his siblings to carry back inside for their Mother. His dark eyes then tracked the distant falling snow between the trees and he wondered if he should trek the mountain in search of wild greens to pick as well, just so they can have a little extra to eat.
He was sure his Mother would appreciate the effort, so, as he rose to his feet and wiped the snow from his pants, he informed his younger siblings that he’d be heading off downhill to do just that.
Lucky enough, there was a plentiful harvest that cold morning.
“Where’d you find those?” Nezuko was helping in the kitchen when he returned, wiping her hands on her apron while their Mother chopped their homegrown vegetables by their charcoal stove. A pot was boiling on the left side, brewing up what he already sniffed out to be her delicious stew. His keen nose would never lie to him; even before he entered their home he could tell what it was that they were having for dinner that night. Nostalgia overwhelmed him once he’d wandered inside, making his chest feel tight and distracting him from his Sister’s voice as she approached. He snapped out of it when their fingers brushed, as she took the basket from him and used a delicate hand to sort through them. “These look good.”
Tanjirou smiled at her. “Oh...yeah. They were down near the river.”
“I thought I checked there yesterday...” Nezuko pondered softly, but then turned and crossed over to their Mother’s side in order to offer the basket and its contents. “Look, Tanjirou found some more vegetables!”
“Oh, wonderful.” Kie smiled over her shoulder at him and her eldest Son couldn't help but light up at her oncoming praise. “Good work, Tanjirou. I’ll add these in too.”
It was a fine addition to the meal, he decided, as it brought warmth to their stomachs that spread to the very tips of their fingers and toes. The kids liked it too, of course, since it was their favorite hearty winter meal and there just so happened to be a fresh new ingredient to delight their taste buds. Tanjirou too, was satisfied, as he sat content in his spot, flanked by Hanako and Shigeru, who had decided to race to finish emptying their bowls to the very last drop. It was a common occurrence in the Kamado household, to have competition between the two middle children, but he still missed it so much.
Well. He wasn’t sure why he would miss it, actually, since this happened yesterday too.
“Hey, big brother.” Shigeru leaned toward him after his bickering with their sister subsided. Apparently there’d been a bit of a disagreement about the true winner of their race, but like young children usually did, they got over it pretty quickly. “Do you wanna play hide and seek later?”
“It’s getting rather dark.” Kie spoke up after having enjoyed her meal in silence for a record time of a whole five minutes. She lifted her tea cup to her lips and gave her children a knowing look from behind the warm steam. “You can play tomorrow after chores.”
“Aww man.” Both Hanako and Shigeru slumped, the boy even toppling over onto the floor and, beside him, Takeo rolled his eyes. Nezuko smiled in amusement without paying too much notice to their dramatics, catching Tanjirou’s attention and compelling him to observe as they all continued their meals. She ate her food normally...as did the rest of them, as if they hadn’t a single care in the world, but...he wasn’t quite sure why that bothered him.
Well, hopefully this strange feeling that manifested inside him could be slept off.
He was lost in white sheets, with fabric sliding between his fingers and rippling before him as the breeze passed through the strands of his hair. Luckily, it was a clear morning, so hanging the laundry was a successful feat; no sudden flurries to dampen what should be dry by the end of the day. He was the man of the house now, so he always tried to help his Mother with as many chores as he could and this was no different. Although his siblings never really liked it when he took on more chores, since their time to play was cut short as a direct result of it.
They liked to fool around to distract him as retaliation, hiding the basket of their extra kimonos and yukata or circling his step ladder while singing or laughing cheerfully. He never felt frustrated at them for doing this though, but instead simply laughed it off and would occasionally give in to run about and entertain them. Of course, that was also the case on this day, as he hopped down from the stool and left footprints in the snow circling around the clothes line.
Their bodies were warm to the touch as he grabbed them and pulled them down into the snow, and as Shigeru and Hanako both laughed with cherry red cheeks and kicked their feet playfully, Tanjirou squeezed them close and sighed. He closed his eyes and relished in the moment of their innocence and good cheer. This peaceful winter day that blessed them with clear skies. To have them in his hands, saf e...
“Tanjirou?”
Oh.
He released them and the two exchanged a curious glance.
A moment later, Takeo had come over from around the corner, axe in hand and matching checkered scarf wrapped snug around his neck to protect from the cold. “Hey, do you think I could help you chop wood today?”
He was his eldest brother out of all the younger Kamados, but that didn't change the fact that he was only ten years old. Tanjirou would usually prefer to do it on his own because of this, but...it wouldn’t really be fair of him to turn him down for his age alone. After all, he started wood cutting himself when he was around his age. Even if it had only been because their Father was bedridden at the time.
“Alright...” Tanjirou rose to his feet, then gestured behind him to the unfinished laundry. “I’ll finish up the laundry first.”
His Brother smiled eagerly. “Okay!”
As he turned to finish up his work, Hanako and Shigeru left him be, opting to run around and play a game of tag instead while Takeo waited patiently. Rokuta tried to join them, though unfortunately, he stumbled around in the snow a little too much to keep up with their longer, faster legs. With small beads of tears in the corners of his eyes, Tanjirou reassured and comforted him from where he stood, until Nezuko eventually wandered over to pick the small boy up for damage control. By the time he was ready to take Takeo out to chop wood, she had the small boy sleeping under a blanket with his head in her lap while they kept warm inside.
“Whoa!” Takeo exclaimed in surprise as Tanjirou's axe came down on a medium sized birch tree near their home. He was a little surprised himself, as the trunk fell backwards into the snow with a creaking in its bark, since he’d only swung at it once when normally it took him a few more tries than that. He looked down at his hands as they held onto the hilt, at rough, pink skin at the pads of his fingers and then He raised one and hummed curiously, wondering if maybe he was just having a good day. It was clear and beautiful, after all...a lucky day indeed.
Takeo swung with all his might but no matter how hard he tried, the trees stayed standing for at least six thwacks of the axe. Tanjirou patted his shoulder to encourage him whenever he’d stomp his foot and huff, then decided that he’d break the trunks down into smaller pieces as they moved along to collect what they needed.
As the afternoon fell upon them, he decided to turn in, bringing their baskets over to the furnace so that Tanjirou could get to work. After ushering his younger brother inside to clean up, he then made quick work of the wood they gathered, making sure to cover it properly in order for it to keep up its slow and steady burn. By the time the afternoon had settled into early evening, he was shoveling out charcoal and sorting the better pieces by hand back into his basket. This was just as he did every other day, so that he could bring the charcoal into town and come home with money to keep their family comfortable. He was good at it, though not very good at keeping his hands and face clean while doing it.
His Mother came over to him once he’d finished, lifting up the corner of her apron to wipe the soot from his cheek. Somehow the touch was familiar, but not because she’d doted on him his entire life just the same but instead...it was more like he’d seen this play out before, as if in a dream.
The feeling lingered as his siblings tried to follow him on his journey, one after the other asking if they could come along, practically begging as they suggested using the cart. Even Nezuko’s place while holding Rokuta, wishing him safe travels as he passed by to head to town; it was all familiar ...like they’d been through this before. He descended the mountain often to sell their charcoal, so it could have been nothing. His siblings asked to go with him all the time too, and Nezuko was always watching over Rokuta since their Father passed.
So he pressed forward, waving goodbye to his Family and pushing away the looming weight that felt heavier on his shoulders than any basket of charcoal could.
It was a clear day up until then, as the snow began to fall again to cover the mountain in a sheet of white. He tread carefully into the village, and just like any other day, he managed to sell all of his stock before the sky became too dark. The villagers were always kind to him, always willing to buy more to stay warm for the winter season, so it was no surprise that he quickly emptied the basket in exchange for a heavier pouch of money.
On his way home, the old man who lived at the base of the mountain called out to him. He was familiar with him and the rest of his family, since he’d occasionally buy their charcoal, but he was always talking about the strangest things. He reminded him a little of his Grandma, who often spoke of old folktales and superstitions when he was younger, but old man Saburo was always a lot more serious about it. It normally didn't bother Tanjirou, though that night for some reason, when he had spoken the word demon , a chill ran up his spine and what felt like claws grabbed hold of the back of his head and kept him frozen stiff.
He followed the old man’s beckoning and he went inside to stay somewhere safe through the night.
But...something didn’t feel right.
Saburo fed him and gave him a place to sleep with reassurances of a safe night, but he couldn’t settle a single bone in his body no matter how quiet and seemingly peaceful the room had felt. His chest was heavy on his lungs as his heart rate picked up anxiously and as the night crept on, Tanjirou found that he could not sleep. Beads of sweat pooled at his brow, even as the cold winter air seeped in through the thin walls of Saburo’s home and a voice in the back of his mind screamed at him, urgent but also distant and foggy as if the source was somewhere far away. Go , he thinks it said to him. Wake up!
But he was awake.
Go.
He needed to leave.
In the middle of the night, Tanjirou sprung from his borrowed futon and snuck over to the genken in a careful haste. He threw on his checkered haori and outfitted his feet with his straw snow boots before then exiting with a thankful bow of his head in the direction of the old man at rest. Once he was outside in the cold, he broke out into a sprint, leaving behind his charcoal basket without a second glance as he ascended the mountain. That was fine–it didn’t matter–he could replace it any other day or even come back to get it if he really had to, but for now, all that mattered, all that he could focus on was getting up the mountain and getting home to his family. To his siblings and his Mother who should all be sound asleep like any other night.
But the smell of blood consumed him, filling his mind with terrible thoughts and clenching his heart with dagger-like talons in a fit of dread. Memories come to him of a nightmarish morning, where he’d lost everything and he pushed his legs even harder, and his lungs burned from climbing so quickly in the cold night. But no matter how badly he needed to give his body a rest, he kept going for what was more important, until he finally reached their home and toppled over onto his knees to gasp for air.
At first everything was fine once he looked up, but then he heard the screaming.
A horrendous screaming bathed in the stench of blood and his breath was lost to him. He could hear the chaos behind closed doors, as something unknown to him attacked his Family and he begged for his frozen legs to move and help him reach them. So he could get to the axe and save them. But as soon as he finally managed to get to his feet and come forward, the door to his home opened and a pained cry filled the once peaceful snowy night.
To his horror, he was forced to watch in a bloody display of terror, as Nezuko fell into the snow, shielding their youngest brother, whose skin looked as pale as the frost that nearly swallowed him up.
Tanjirou shouted uselessly as he pushed against the snow to reach them, but his voice did not leave from his raw, raspy throat no matter how hard he cried. At the sight of all the blood that painted the fresh powder red, he crumbled to the ground in disbelief and fell completely still in shock as he looked on to their motionless bodies. And then...a man was there. A tall one with dark hair and crimson eyes that turned toward him in disdain and hatred. Seeing him standing there over his brother and sister, with his polished shoes pressing Nezuko’s kimono into the snow, their blood on his hands and his claws, all dug up the terrible memory of the name now erupting from deep within his chest in a boiling rage as he finally found his voice.
“ Muzan! ”
They were standing in Asakusa, with onlookers whispering around them, a man transformed viciously attacking his own wife, and Tanjirou’s fury burned . He reached for his sword as Muzan faced him but it wasn’t beneath his grasp, but instead an empty scabbard was hooked under his belt in its place.
His heart stopped and he faced Muzan again, swinging a hand out on instinct to stop his sudden approach.
But the King of Demons would always be quicker, with his claws digging into his abdomen and tearing through his black uniform like it was practically non-existent. He doubled over as the crowd gasped around them, and his knees slammed into the blood soaked tatami mats of his home. Tanjirou then reeled back with red on his hands, noting that he was back here, back in his worst nightmare and surrounded by the bodies of his poor, non deserving family. His lungs stopped working as his blood ran cold, now convulsing in desperation as he closed his eyes and tried to stay steady.
This had to be a dream. The sounds of his crying brothers and sisters and the blood stench clinging to the walls...they were all fake.
How else could he be seeing this again?
Just where were his friends? Where was Zenitsu? Inosuke —
Tanjirou gasped in well needed clarity, with his eyes wide open to the falling snow and dead trees of the Mountain’s forest. He panted against the burning chill, kneeling in the white powder with his nose pointed to the clouds and his Demon Slayer Uniform heavy on his aching chest.
That’s right. He was not supposed to be here. He was dreaming . A terrible nightmare had plagued him and now he must escape. So he can get back to his Sister...to Inosuke and to Zenitsu too.
He remembered Enmu and the similar dreams that he’d tortured him with and his hand immediately sought out his sword. It was there now, resting in the snow beside him and cold to the touch as he picked it up to unsheath it. He steadied his trembling hands on the hilt and did the same for his racing heart and spilling tears before holding the blade up to catch the light of the sun that filtered through the clouds.
It was the only way to end this, wasn’t it?
Yes, somehow Enmu still had him in his clutches and would not allow him to be at peace.
His breathing sharpened as the adrenaline returned and he pushed the blade against his throat.
Cut it. Cut it. Cut it.
One last intake of breath and Tanjirou made to slit his own throat.
But then something grabbed onto the strands of his hair, yanking his head back while his wrist was forced away from him and when Tanjirou opened his eyes again with an audible gasp, he was staring into the dark ceiling of a familiar but hazy room. For a moment he wondered where this memory had taken him, but as his vision focused, he realized that this was no longer the making of his mind, but reality instead. Blinking through his tears, he turned his attention to the left in order to find the owner of the hands that had grabbed him.
It was Inosuke, kneeling beside him, without his mask on and his green eyes watching in a rare show of serious concern.
His fingers were gripped tight around the red strands of his hair, almost so tight that it stung, but what stung even worse was his neck as it craned back and away from his...
He looked back forward, at his wrist that had been pushed away by Inosuke’s other hand and to his horror, his nichirin blade was still held tight in his grasp. Alarmed, Tanjirou threw his sword away, and fell backwards into his makeshift bed with a worried touch to his throat. His fingers were red when he looked at them again, but fortunately the damage didn’t feel like anything more than a simple cut. His partner had managed to catch him in time, no doubt awoken by his movement to kneel in his sleep and grab hold of his sword that he normally kept nearby as a precaution.
He must have been terrified seeing him in that position. It was no wonder his hold on his hair and wrist was so desperate. Enough to bring him back from his dreams before he could do such a terrible thing to himself.
Tanjirou shivered and cupped his palm against his neck again. “I...I thought...”
“I know.” Inosuke’s voice was almost a shock, and it was then when he realized that the other Slayer’s fingers were still in his hair. Though now they held on with a looser grip, slowly releasing until they were moving down his back and away completely. He probably didn’t mean to make it as comforting as it felt, but Tanjirou honestly couldn’t help but crave for the touch again. “Listen to me...” The wild boy spoke again as he moved away, digging into what he assumed were their supplies with a curious scent of frustration wafting from him. “...that fucker is dead.”
“...I know.” Tanjirou’s gaze fell to his lap, to his uniform pants and the impromptu bed they’d set up in an old abandoned house. The room was cold, so cold that he could see his breath, yet Inosuke could still move about in what he usually wore, as he came over to sit beside him again, only this time with a leg looped behind him to be closer, facing him and reaching out to touch his neck.
He jumped at the cold touch of fingers against his throat, but relaxed as soon as he realized what his friend was doing. Just as he’d always done for him while on their missions, Inosuke wrapped bandages over the wound, surprisingly gentle and patient with his own movements, before tying it off and resting his hands in his lap before him.
“You and I killed him...” Inosuke then said, and Tanjirou met his gaze with a small, understanding nod. He knew what he was trying to do, trying to convince him that Enmu wasn’t going to bother him or any of them ever again but he just couldn't help but feel like, in the moment as everything came closing in around him, that picking up his blade was the only way. He hadn’t had a true nightmare in a long time. In fact...the last time he did was while on that train...so it was no wonder that he’d turned to what he thought was his only chance at freedom.
Although he never raised his own sword to his neck in reality while he was in the dream–not taking into account that time he’d almost done it while he was awake in battle–so he wondered if this night had happened simply because it was a normal nightmare. That his trauma of having to cut his own throat over and over and over again had put his body into autopilot the very moment he was distressed in his sleep...If that were the case...if it were to happen again...wouldn’t that mean he was a danger to himself?
But Inosuke protected him. Saved him.
Tanjirou closed his eyes and released a shaken breath. “Thank you, Inosuke...”
The other boy grunted but he didn’t move. Instead, he kept himself close and watched him, as if something would happen at any moment, as if just looking away for a second could mean that Tanjirou would get hurt again. The red-head released a quiet but strained chuckle, exhausted and weak, but he kept his attention on him, reaching over with his hand to place it over Inosuke’s in reassurance.
“...I’m okay now.”
Another grunt.
“You can go back to sleep now.”
Blue strands dusted across his bare shoulders as he shook his head and Tanjirou wondered if the action had given him goosebumps against the chilled air. It was winter outside after all, with a chance of snowfall during the night, so he wouldn’t be surprised if Inosuke was actually cold and just trying not to show it. It had been the reason why they found this old, quiet house to stay in the first place, since simply camping in the woods wouldn't protect them from what was inevitably going to be a few inches of snow by the time they woke.
Come to think of it, he felt a little cold himself, but the only thing for cover he had was his own tattered haori and the Demon Slayer uniform on his back. It didn't help either that he was still shaken from his terrible dreams, with trembling fingers resting in his lap, a bandage now stained red around his neck and his nichirin blade piercing the old, broken floor in the corner of the room. It was comforting to know that Inosuke was so determined to help him though, even going as far as to touch him, wrap a leg around him and then reach out to stroke his palm against his hair.
Oh...he didn’t notice it at first, but he was petting him now.
“I’ll protect you.” Inosuke muttered, as he mimicked what Tanjirou has definitely done to him in the past while running his hand over his hair in slow, calming motions. “Those stupid dreams cant hurt you if I’m there to keep you safe. So–” He stopped his petting motions and then leaned forward to wrap his arms around him, pulling him close to bury his nose in his shoulder. “So you shouldnt have to feel the need to do that again. Dont ...” His voice had lowered to sound so quiet and weak that it surprised the red-head, who then turned where he sat to put an arm against his side.
His assumption must have been true after all...that waking to see Tanjirou on the verge of driving his blade through his throat must have scared him completely out of his wits.
It scared him too.
To be honest, he was still scared. He wasn’t sure if he could even bring himself to go back to sleep now. But..
“I won't do it again, I promise.” Tanjirou shifted completely so he could turn more and wrap his arms fully around his partner in return. He closed his eyes and breathed in the boy’s scent, smelling the subtle possessiveness that was now overpowering his frustration and fear and a small bud of happiness manifested within him to have such a strong bond in his life. Someone who wanted to keep him safe no matter what, even if it was normally coming from a place of self centered ego. That night was different, however, as he could tell Inosuke’s feelings were softer and more vulnerable. He was shaken just as much as he and the two of them only had each other in his cold winter night.
“You better not!” Inosuke finally leaned back, with his lips pursed and his green eyes glossy in the darkness of the room. He appeared to be angry with him, but Tanjirou could tell that it wasn’t true, especially with how close he was to crying himself. Now that they weren't on any battlefield or near anyone else that could listen in on their conversation, the wild boy was showing a side of himself that was more in touch with the feelings he harbored deep inside. He only did this when they were by themselves, which was an honor to say the least, so it made him feel cared for and adored after what he’d just experienced. It was a good feeling...keeping him warm within Inosuke’s arms. “As your fearless leader, I’m the one who will always protect you! But..if I somehow can’t reach you....y...you gotta help me help you. Don’t do anything stupid! Don’t let the bad dreams win!”
Affection bubbled up inside him, pulling at his lips into a real and grateful smile and Tanjirou lifted a hand so he could tuck some of the other’s dark hair behind his ear. “Okay...” He then whispered, before leaning forward to gently caress the boy’s cheek with his lips. When he pulled away, his face felt hot, but he was less embarrassed after seeing that Inosuke’s cheeks had turned a little red as well. It was an impulsive move, but it was what felt right to him at that moment. To thank him, adore him, appreciate him. Whatever he could do to show that Inosuke’s efforts were not going to be taken advantage of. He wholeheartedly believed that if they stayed close in the night, then perhaps he would be able to sleep soundly again.
“Could you lay down with me?”
“..y...yeah.”
Inosuke was still a little dazed when Tanjirou laid onto his back and pulled him down with him. He then covered them both with his haori and curled up close against his bare chest, which was warm to the touch as he reached out to seek refuge from the cold air around them. He could feel his heart racing beneath his palm, as his scent exploded with affection and excitement, and then the other slayer’s arms were wrapped tight around him and pulling him in even closer. If it was Inosuke’s way of being sure that no terrible dreams plagued his mind again, then he was hopeful that it would work. No...he was confident that it would work.
Because if it didn’t...then he wouldn't have the excuse to ask Inosuke to hold him anymore.
Because even though he was a strong person himself, capable of slaying demons and saving others with his own power, he could admit that he needed comfort and protection sometimes too. Inosuke may not have been the first person most would turn to for such a thing, but for Tanjirou, it was the boar boy that made his heart truly feel whole again. They completed each other, he thinks...there was no doubt about that.
With a quivering breath, Tanjirou buried himself further into warm embrace and closed his eyes.
Sleep would not come easy but at least now he knew, Inosuke would be there for him no matter what. He’d shield him from the horrors his imagination would conjure up. This much he knew.
And so, with steady breath, and protection all around him, Tanjirou slept.