Chapter Text
“That’s not Monitsu. He’s too short, and Monitsu has yellow hair!” Inosuke insisted. His green eyes narrowed, studying the child like he was trying to solve some complicated puzzle. He had been coaxed to remove the boar head, because it terrified the poor boy in question so much he had refused to come out from underneath the cot in his designated room. Only after Insouke left the room and Tanjiro made a very loud show of “defeating” the monster in the hallway did the kid even consider venturing from the safety of the bed. Even then, it had taken a while for Tanjiro to pull Zenitsu out. Inosuke hated being without his pelt, but he hated the fierce look Tanjiro had given him more when he tried to put it back on.
“He smells exactly like Zenitsu. I know it’s him. His hair must have just changed color.” Tanjiro insisted. The boy was seated in his lap and, from this angle, Tanjiro could almost mistake him for Rokuta. They were about the same size, but he wasn’t quite sure what age Zenitsu was supposed to be. Shinobu had mentioned, in the vaguest possible way, that the boy was ‘rather small’ and that it ‘might explain some things’ but conveniently ignored any other questions Tanjiro raised. Zenitsu also hadn’t quite understood the question when prompted. Rokuta would be older than this by now, Tanjiro mused. Would he have wanted to keep growing his hair, or would he have cropped it short with Shigeru? Without thinking, he went to card his fingers through Zenitsu’s choppy black hair. That was a bad idea; the boy shrieked and launched himself out of Tanjiro’s lap.
The kid was jumpy. This surprised absolutely nobody, but it did make trying to wrangle him that much harder. Zenitsu also didn’t seem to have any memory of his adolescence. The exact circumstances of what happened were unclear. Chuntaro had arrived at the Butterfly Mansion in a panic. Luckily Aoi recognized the bird and, though she couldn't speak sparrow, knew the little thing was trying to convey something about Zenitsu. By the time she told Shinobu, who told the kakushi, the demon that Zenitsu had been sent to fight was nowhere to be found. What they did find was a young boy wrapped in Zenitsu’s yellow haori and a now-oversized slayer uniform. He had put up a fight when they tried to bring him to the estate; Tanjiro spied one kakushi bloody nose when they brought the terrified kid to Shinobu.
Tanjiro had recognized Zenitsu instantly, despite the drastic change, and immediately offered to help care for him while they tried to figure out what exactly went wrong. Blood Demon Art was the obvious guess and while Shinobu had antidotes for this sort of thing, the fact that the demon was probably still alive somewhere complicated matters. The plan was to try medicine and sunlight and hope the effect wore off soon, but there was no way to tell how quickly that might happen.
“He’s still too small.” Inosuke grumbled and leaned in closer to scrutinize the interloper.
“Inosuke, that’s because he’s younger now.” Tanjiro explained, not for the first time. Without the mask, Tanjiro could see Inosuke’s brows knit together in confusion and he clarified; “You grow as you get older.”
“Not me! I’ve always been this size!”
“I’m not sure that’s true...”
“Mm-mm!” Nezuko hummed happily. When Zenitsu jumped out of Tanjiro’s lap, he landed in Nezuko’s waiting arms. She was enraptured by the boy, eager to run her clawed hands through his hair and fuss over his borrowed clothes. Tanjiro thought it might be because she missed spoiling Rokuta as much as he did. In turn, Zenitsu was equally enamored by Nezuko. Tanjiro had to work to gain Zenitsu’s trust but the boy willingly ran to Nezuko as soon as he laid eyes on her. It was another sign in his favor how Zenitsu watched the demon girl with the exact same look of adoration that he had when he was a teenager. Maybe there was some part of Zenitsu — the usual Zenitsu — still there. Or maybe Nezuko had that effect no matter what his age.
“I’m sorry. Did that scare you?” Tanjiro murmured. Even though he knew this was his friend, the teen couldn’t help but fall into his old routine of comforting his younger siblings. He spoke slowly and carefully and Zenitsu reluctantly pulled his gaze away from Nezuko.
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry. I just wanted to get the tangles out of your hair. Can I brush it for you?”
“Mm!” Nezuko hummed angrily and turned herself and Zenitsu away from her brother. Back off, I’m doing it.
“Nezuko, I want to help too…” it wasn’t quite a whine, but close to it. Of course he trusted Nezuko not to hurt Zenitsu. But Tanjiro’s heart ached to coddle his siblings just one more time.
“You can brush my hair!” Insouke was already clamoring into Tanjiro’s lap, ignoring his cries of protest. From his position peeking through Nezuko’s long hair, Zenitsu started to laugh at what he considered a fully grown adult trying to sit in another’s lap. The moment was cut short when a commotion outside caught their attention and caused the boy to cover his ears and wail. Aoi burst through the door with her lips pulled into a tense frown.
“We need this room, you have to take him somewhere else.”
With the door open, the cries of pain Zenitsu had already picked up were more obvious. So was the stench of blood. Nezuko tensed and Tanjiro snatched the now screaming Zenitsu from her arms and placed in into Inosuke’s.
“Come on, Nezuko.” While he herded his sister into her box, Tanjiro gestured for his friend to start moving.
“He’s louder than usual!” Inosuke yelled, fighting to be heard over the toddler’s meltdown. “Hey, stop it!”
“That’s not helpful, Inosuke. Take him out of the room.”
“You can go to mine.” Aoi was learning out of the doorway, staring at the commotion down the hall. “Hurry. Now!”
Insouke, who had clearly never held a child before, tucked Zenitsu under one arm like a bag of rice and grabbed his boar mask before brushing past Aoi. Tanjiro followed quickly after with Nezuko secured on his back. He bowed in thanks and went to try and get Zenitsu settled.
Zenitsu would not be settled. He covered his ears and sobbed while the medical ward buzzed with activity. Tanjiro could hardly blame him; whatever mission had gone south must have been brutal. Even he could hear muffled sounds of anguish and could only imagine what Zenitsu’s sensitive ears were picking up.
“I hate it here!” Zenitsu was screaming over and over. He was pressing his fact into Aoi’s bed and pushing his fingers into his ears, but he never wavered in his own volume. Maybe he was trying to block the sound out with his own yelling, Tanjiro reasoned. “I want to leave!”
“You can’t go home, Zenitsu. You’re…” it occurred to Tanjiro suddenly realized that he didn’t know what the cover story was. Shinobu had spoken openly about the Blood Demon Art within the boy’s presence but there was no way he understood what that meant. Zenitsu hadn’t asked Tanjiro about going home before. Actually, he hadn’t asked many questions at all. And Tanjiro didn’t know enough about Zenitsu’s personal life to try and make up something plausible. Did that make him a bad friend? Zenitsu had only mentioned a grandfather before, and Tanjiro gathered that they were close. But this Zenitsu hadn’t asked about him and Tanjiro wasn’t confident that bringing the man up was a good idea.
“You’re sick.” Tanjiro finally said was grateful that Zenitsu wasn’t able to see his terrible poker face. “So you have to stay here until you’re better.”
“I’m not sick!” Zenitsu wailed, “I want to leave!”
“Hanjiro, why won’t he shut up?” Insouke demanded. He was already tense with the noise outside and the vulnerability of being without his boar head. Tanjiro could smell the stress rolling off him. “It’s pissing me off! I’m going to hit him, that will shut him up!”
“Inosuke don’t—“
But Zenitsu did shut up. Immediately. The two teens looked down at Zenitsu’s trembling form. He had moved his hands away from his ears to cover the back of his head and was gasping into the blanket.
Inosuke wore his emotions very plainly so, without his mask, Tanjiro could practically see the gears turning in the boar’s head while he processed what had happened. He lowered his fist and sat next to the toddler.
“Hey, underling.” He started and Zenitsu made no sign that he heard. “I’m a good boss so I’m not going to hit you.” Still, nothing.
Tanjiro was going to attempt to console Zenitsu again when Inosuke suddenly started cackling.
He jumped back to his feet and started pulling pillows and blankets off the bed. Curious, Zenitsu turned his head slightly to watch the boar with one eye.
“What are you doing Inosuke? This isn’t our room—“ Tanjiro tried to mediate but Inosuke huffed through his nose.
““The great Inosuke will solve the problem! We’re building the tiny underling a cave!”
“A cave?”
“To hide in! To block the sound!” The wild slayer was already knocking over furniture and constructing a rudimentary skeleton for a fort. He threw blankets over top and let them cascade to the floor in a messy fashion. Unable to help himself, Tanjiro started adjusting Inosuke’s work to make it more presentable. Tanjiro wasn’t sure this would actually make the room less quiet, but Zenitsu hadn’t started crying again. He was watching the scene with a hesitant curiosity.
Inosuke returned to the bed and stared at the toddler for a moment before announcing; “I need this too.” He gripped the blanket Zenitsu was laying on, one hand on either side of the toddler’s hunched form, and with one swift movement lifted the entire thing off the bed and launched Zenitsu several feet into the air.
“Zenitsu!” Tanjiro shouted and made a leap for the boy’s shock-still form. Zenitsu’s honey eyes were blown wide but he was silent, like his brain hadn’t caught up to the situation just yet. He barely started to fall when Inosuke snatched him out of the air, tucked him against his chest, and marched to his “cave” without comment.
Zenitsu was not sure how to react. He barely had time to be scared before Inosuke had grabbed him again, and now he was most definitely secured in the strong arms of the very nice -- but weird -- stranger. He couldn’t decide if he should cry anyway, but the longer it took to decide the less sure Zenitsu was that there had been anything to cry about.
At the center of the “cave” was Nezuko’s box and she peered out of the open door with her usual mildly curious expression. Although Zenitsu reached out for her, Inosuke deposited the boy in his own lap as he sat beside the box. When Zenitsu tried to squirm away, Inosuke held him still.
“There!” The boar said triumphantly to Tanjiro as the teen joined him in the fort. “What do you think, underling? Stop moving!”
“This is…nice, Inosuke.” Tanjiro said kindly and arranged Aoi’s futon blanket so it mostly covered the entrance of the cave.
“And the noises can’t find us in here!” Inosuke added triumphantly.
“It’s still noisy.” Zenitsu complained, tilting his head all the way back so he could look at the one holding him. “There’s screaming…”
Not wanting to be defeated by something as stupid as sound , Insouke thought quickly. He reached blindly behind him until he found his mask. Without warning, he plopped the head onto Zenitsu. “Ha! How about now?”
“Now it smells bad...”
“No it doesn’t!”
Tanjiro smiled apologetically as he pulled the mask off of Zenitsu, who was making a face like he wanted to vomit. The mask absolutely reeked, even when Aoi washed it and that hadn’t happened in months. “That’s a good start, Inosuke. But let’s try something else. How’s this?”
Rough hands rested against the side of Zenitsu’s face, covering his ears. Zenitsu sniffed and reluctantly nodded; it was a little quieter.
Inosuke’s warm hands covered Tanjiro’s and for a moment their eyes locked, red to green. It was rare that Tanjiro got to see Inosuke’s bare face and sometimes he forgot how lovely and feminine it was. So different from his raspy voice which was now proclaiming victory over the very concept of sound. Zenitsu had finally calmed down and stared up at the two boys, basking in the warmth radiating from them.
When Aoi finally returned to her room, she found the group in a tangle of limbs, Zenitsu in the middle and the older boys with their faces nearly touching. Nezuko had laid herself over the pile as well. Aoi went to sleep with Kanao that night.
Tanjiro was well versed in the art of feeding medicine to unwilling children. It was a bit like wrestling a boa constrictor the way he wrapped his legs around Zenitsu, tilted his head back, plugged his nose, and delivered a dose of foul-tasting medicine in one quick swoop. By the time Zenitsu realized what happened, Tanjiro was already showering him with compliments. It was unanimously decided that Tanjiro would be in charge of medicine; the girls of the Butterfly Mansion did not have the fortitude to upset a defenseless toddler, even if they would have happily bullied a grown Zenitsu into the same task.
Tanjiro would have happily taken care of Zenitsu until his treatment was complete if it hadn’t been for his next mission. Inosuke was demonstrating how to catch worms, which Zenitsu claimed to be afraid of, and Tanjiro was supervising the interaction when two crows came screaming into the garden. If worms scared Zenitsu, crows absolutely terrified him. He ran shrieking back into the house as soon as he heard their flapping wings. That was for the best, as he wasn’t around to hear that Tanjiro and Inosuke were expected to report for two separate missions.
“Urgent!” one crow cried. “Leave Immediately!”
Tanjiro rehearsed his explanation about twenty times before he told Zenitsu that he and Inosuke would be leaving. Perhaps it was selfish, but the young man fully expected Zenitsu to have a screaming meltdown over the fact. After all, the usual Zenitsu always hated when they had to part. Whenever Zenitsu had a solo mission, he would throw a tantrum and beg Tanjiro to tell Nezuko that he had been a brave, handsome man before his untimely death. The kid might not have a clue what Tanjiro and Inosuke were leaving to do, or the danger involved, but Tanjiro expected he understood the idea of loss. Instead the boy had a much stranger reaction.
“Oh. Okay.”
“Okay?” Tanjiro repeated. Zenitsu was staring at his feet which were swaying over the edge of the porch. Tanjiro was sitting directly next to him, Nezuko already strapped to his back to protect her from the shining sun. Inosuke hovered nearby with his arms folded over his chest; he was pretending not to care but Tanjiro knew better. He just wasn’t good with words.
“You don’t like me.”
“What? That’s not true!” Tanjiro looked stricken. “I like you a lot, Zenitsu! We’re friends.”
“But you’re leaving.”
“I like you so much that I can’t take you with me.” It was difficult to explain and Tanjiro could see Zenitsu’s face scrunch up in confusion. Suddenly he was talking to his siblings again, explaining why they couldn’t walk with him into town. But what if he had relented that day? What if he had let even just one...
Back in the present, Tanjiro shook his head to rid himself of darker thoughts. “If you come with us now, you could get hurt. And I would be so sad if that happened.”
Zenitsu tilted his head, peering up at the burgundy haired teen. His eyes were shiny with big, fat tears threatening to fall. He spoke softly. “Really?”
“Yes, really! If you got hurt, Inosuke and I would never stop crying! And we’ll be back as soon as we can. Right, Inosuke?” The boar exhaled through his nose but said nothing. “Maybe you’ll be all better by then, and we can all leave here together.”
“We can live together?”
Oh. Before Tanjiro could respond, Inosuke spoke up for the first time; “Damn right we can!”
Tanjiro turned towards his friend, bewildered. Of all the questions to respond to...
“Okay! You promise!” That was not a question. It was a statement. Zenitsu seemed excited by the idea and Tanjiro silently prayed that his friend would be back to normal next time they saw each other. He did not think he could have this conversation a second time.
With Zenitsu in much better spirits, the three walked to the gates of the mansion so Zenitsu could wave at them until they were out of sight. And then he burst into tears. With Zenitsu inconsolable for the next day and a half, Shinobu knew she would have to resort to more creative measures.
“I told you I don’t want him.”
“Oh, that’s too bad. Because he’s already packed up and ready to go.” Shinobu said sweetly, her plastered smile never wavering. The boy in question was sitting next to her desk and working on a piece of candy, a strategic ploy to keep him quiet.
“I’m retired. This isn’t my problem.”
“I know you’re retired. Which is why I’m asking you. Everyone else is busy and you have nothing to do. And won’t your wives be excited to play house?”
“ You have an entire house of girls trained for this, don’t you?” Tengen countered. “You said you needed extra space, not a babysitter.”
“It’s not a good place for him.” For a moment her tone shifted into something sad, “We have injured soldiers coming and going all the time and they need our full attention. We just don’t have enough hands and he needs somewhere quiet.” Zenitsu tugged on the fabric of her pants and gave her a worried frown. His candy was gone. Shinobu turned to the boy and gave a dazzling smile in return which captivated Zenitsu and distracted him from his planned meltdown. “Because he needs to take his medicine and nap in the sun to get better, right?”
“Yes. Even though it tastes bad.” The boy recited quickly. This was clearly something he had heard over and over again.
“See? He’s so agreeable. Zenitsu is such a good boy! And he’s going to be a good boy for Tengen, right?”
It wasn’t any use arguing with Shinobu. She always got her way and wasn’t intimidated by the former Sound Hashira in the slightest. Somehow he had been roped into agreeing to care for the kid — “a week or two at most, I’m sure!” — and was pushed out of the room as soon as he said something slightly resembling a yes. And so Uzui Tengen was left at the gate of the mansion with a little boy hovering anxiously nearby.
Zenitsu had been unfortunate looking to Tengen before, but as a kid he was even less flashy. His one flamboyant quality, the golden shock of hair on his head, was now a dull black and he was dressed in a plain white yukata. How boring. The younger butterfly girls had fussed over him, slicking back his hair and trying a pack of his adult-sized clothes around his shoulder all while shooting glares at the former Hashira. He only belatedly realized that he might have tried to make off with one of them when he set out for the Entertainment District. That already felt like ages ago and, truly, he thought all those girls looked the same. Zenitsu looked happy about the attention for the little girls and his face turned red as they cooed and wished him the best of luck.
Then it was just the two of them. Zenitsu was craning his neck to look up at Tengen and holding his sword in his hands, and it was nearly the size of the boy. Tengen reached out his remaining hand to grab the sword, but the boy quickly pulled it close to his chest.
“You’re too little to have that, give it here.”
Zenitsu shook his head quickly and said in an unsure voice; “But they gave it to me.”
“You’re going to drop it.” Tengen tried again with very little patience. “Give it here unless you want to walk the entire way to my home.”
“Is it far?”
“Very far.”
Reluctantly, Zenitsu parted with the sword and Uzui attached it to his hip. He already anticipated Zenitsu complaining about the walk so he reached down to scoop him up. Zenitsu took a quick step back.
“Your hand is gone.”
“Sure is.”
“How come?”
“Someone cut it off.”
“Because you were bad?”
“What?” Tengen gave a baffled stare and Zenitsu averted his gaze to the ground and mumbled something that sounded like ‘nothing.’ Tengen didn’t have the time - or desire - to think about what the kid meant and reached down to grab Zenitsu again. The toddler wasn’t quick enough to dodge him so he let out a shriek and started to kick, but Tengen held tight. “If you keep this up, you’re walking the entire way.” he warned and balanced the boy on a folded arm. “Now stay still.”
Zenitsu had seemingly accepted his fate and didn’t make a peep the rest of the way. Uzui had expected him to talk a lot, because the Zenitsu he knew had complained most of the time they were together. But the boy had stuck his thumb into his mouth at the start of their journey and hadn’t taken it out once, which was an incredibly unflashy thing to do. The silence was just fine by Tengen, who was already regretting his ‘decision’ to take Zenitsu in. He rarely interacted with children, and the soft sucking noise Zenitsu was making was already getting on his nerves. He was sure there would be other things that annoyed him. Zenitsu was a crybaby and Tengen could only imagine how much worse Zenitsu was when he lacked the intelligence of adolescence. He didn’t notice the kid had fallen asleep on his shoulder until he was already home and the cheerful greeting from his wives roused Zenitsu with a start. Unsurprisingly, he started sniffling as the women approached, winding up for a bout of tears.
“Is that a kid?”
“Lord Tengen, I thought you were bringing back sick patients!”
“Oh. That’s Zenitsu.” Hinatsuru exclaimed softly and her fellow wives gasped in surprise.
“It is Zenitsu! What made him so tiny?”
“I want to hold him!”
As the three shinobi swarmed, the overwhelmed toddler could do nothing but cry. Tengen groaned and immediately deposited the child on the ground. In his drowsy state, the boy nearly toppled over.
“He’s staying here until he’s back to normal.” The man offered a curt explanation and started for the house. Zenitsu reached after him, but Uzui had already cleared half of the yard by the time Zenitsu knew what was happening. Sensing his panic, Hinatsuru crouched on the ground to get closer to the boy’s eye level.
“Welcome to our home, Zenitsu. You can call me Hina.”
Reluctantly, Zenitsu turned away from Tengen’s departing form and towards the stranger. He wasn’t in the mood to meet anyone new, but now that he was getting a good look at her…
“Hi.” He wiped the snot dripping out of his nose and used that same hand to give a shy wave.
“Hi.” The young woman smiled back as Makio slung an arm over her shoulder.
“And I’m Makio!” She shouted and Zenitsu would have jumped away if the women weren’t surrounding him like a pack of wolves.
“Let’s try to be a little quieter--”
“I’m Suma! Can I hold him? He’s so cute!” Suma had crowded in behind Zenitsu and wrapped her arms around his middle, unable to wait for an answer. Zenitsu screamed and so did she. Her grip loosening as Zenitsu buried himself into the chest of Hinatsuru, who he quickly decided was the safest new adult.
“He doesn’t like me!” Suma wailed and Makio gave her a dirty look.
“You can’t just grab kids, idiot! Don’t you know anything?”
“How was I supposed to know that?”
“Do you want to come inside, Zenitsu?” The older woman was adept at tuning her fellow wives out and she gave the boy her undivided attention. He nodded and she led him by the hand towards the house.
“Let’s lay down some rules.” Tengen had stashed Zenitsu’s blade in his room and returned to the engawa just as his wives were walking up. “If you want to stay here, you have to follow them. Got it?”
Wordlessly, Zenitsu nodded.
“First rule. I am Lord Tengen and I am a god. You will do whatever I tell you."
“You’re not a god.” Zenitsu giggled behind his hand. Despite the scandalized expressions of the adults, he clearly thought it was a joke. “You’re a person.”
“No, I am a god. And my wives,” he gestured at the women surrounding him, “are extensions of me. You will do everything they tell you to as well. Hinatsuru. Makio. Suma.” When he pointed at each woman, they stood a little straighter and grinned. Zenitsu’s gaze flickered between them.
“Hina. Maki. Suma.” he repeated to the best of his ability, and then pointed at the man. “Tenten.”
Makio made an ugly snorting noise as she choked down her laugh.
“Lord Tengen .” Uzui corrected. Zenitsu said nothing, so Tengen repeated himself. “Lord Tengen.”
Rather than reciting the man’s name, the kid said; “I’m Zenitsu.”
“Yes. We know.” Tengen already felt a headache forming. “Rule two is don’t be annoying. You can do that by following rule one.”
Zenitsu suddenly looked worried and pulled at Hinatsuru’s kimono. She leaned down and Zenitsu whispered loudly, “What if I break a rule?”
“Just don’t break the rules.” Zenitsu looked alarmed that Tengen had answered him, as he hadn’t expected the man to be able to hear his whispering. “Break the rules and you’re out.”
The boy gulped.
“Rule three.” Tengen paused, for dramatic effect and because he had not actually planned three rules. The first two were enough, in his opinion, but three was a much sexier number. “is to do everything in a flashy way.”
“What’s that?”
“Flashy? It means… flashy . Flamboyant. Ostentatious.”
Zenitsu blinked, clearly not familiar with any of those words.
“You know, like glitzy.” Suma suggested and Makio shook her head.
“More like showy!”
“Do you know what the word fancy means?” Hinatsuru supplied helpfully. The boy nodded quickly; that one he understood. The woman smiled, “It means something like that.”
“Flashy.” Zenitsu repeated, and he liked how the new word felt on his tongue. “Flashy!”
“You are not flashy right now.” The man added. “So you need to work on that while you’re here.”
“Okay!” Zenitsu stood up straight and mustered up all the manners his little body had so he could give his very best bow. “Thank you for taking care of me. I will be flashy.”
“He’s so cute!” Suma squealed and her fellow wives hummed in agreement. “Please let me hold him! Lord Tengen, tell him he has to let me hold him!”
“No way! You don’t even know how to hold a kid.” Makio snapped, “I should hold him first!”
“That’s not fair! I asked before you did!”
“We should probably ask Zenitsu what he prefers,” Hinatsuru pointed out, and both Makio and Suma turned on her instantly.
“You’re saying that because he likes you more!”
“Unfair! Unfair! That’s cheating!”
Having never experienced so many women fighting for his attention, the boy was blushing like a flame. And Tengen, who had never had his wives fighting over a guy who wasn’t him, felt a strange sense of jealousy towards the boy. To settle the argument, he plucked Zenitsu up by the collar of his yukata and secured him to his broad chest.
“We’ll start with the tour. Then you can all take turns holding him.”
“Yes, Lord Tengen.” the women agreed in unison. Tengen jostled the kid in his arms, trying to prompt him to also respond, but the kid just squeaked and grabbed at the fabric of his haori. There was a chorus of aww's and Tengen caught a glint of something promising in Hinatsuru’s eyes as she watched him readjust his grip on the child.
Well. Maybe this wasn't such a bad idea after all.
