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Genya Shinazugawa is having a bad day.
Scratch that. He’s having a terrible, cosmic-level, someone-up-there-hates-him kind of day.
First, he’d woken up late because Zenitsu decided to “borrow” his alarm clock last night, claiming it made weird ticking noises that kept him up. Then, just as Genya thought he might still make it to the morning briefing in time, he tripped over Inosuke’s dumb boar mask lying in the hallway and faceplanted hard enough to bruise his nose.
And now, as if the gods themselves wanted to personally mock him, Shinobu Kocho was smiling at him with that soft, infuriatingly calm expression that somehow made everything worse.
“Shinazugawa, you’ll be going with Kamado on this mission,” she said lightly, as though she wasn’t casually ruining his week.
Genya blinked. “...Come again?”
“Tanjiro Kamado,” she repeated. “You two will investigate the demon sightings near the island of Mizushima. It’s an isolated area, so it’ll be just the two of you.”
“Just the— wait, what?” Genya’s voice came out higher than intended. “You’re sending me with him? That guy— the one who— he broke my hand!”
Shinobu didn’t even flinch. “Mhm. I remember. You were rather loud about it.”
Genya opened his mouth to argue, but Tanjiro Kamado himself had the worst timing known to mankind because he walked in right at that exact moment, bright smile and all, like a sunshine incarnate. His uniform was neatly pressed, sword shining at his hip, and he looked disgustingly ready for the day.
“Oh, hey, Genya! Good morning!” Tanjiro greeted with that cheerful tone that made Genya want to throw something sharp.
“Don’t talk to me,” Genya said automatically, glaring at the floor.
Shinobu clasped her hands behind her back, humming. “Perfect. You two already know each other. That makes this easier.”
“I don’t want it to be easier!” Genya snapped, but no one cared, because Tanjiro was already nodding politely and saying things like, “I’ll make sure we work well together!”
Work well together. Sure. Right after Genya figured out how to not punch him in the face.
Two hours later, Genya found himself sitting in a wooden boat rocking violently across the sea, with Tanjiro Kamado rowing across the waves like some kind of serene, ocean-loving monk.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Tanjiro asked, his voice far too gentle for someone responsible for this level of suffering.
Genya leaned over the side of the boat and groaned. “Do I look okay to you?”
“You look a little green, honestly.”
“Gee, thanks.” Genya wiped his mouth with his sleeve and tried not to throw up again. The sea air wasn’t helping. The waves weren’t helping. And Tanjiro’s constant smiling sure as hell wasn’t helping.
“This was your idea, wasn’t it?” Genya muttered, glaring at the horizon like it personally offended him.
“Huh? Oh, no,” Tanjiro said, smiling sheepishly. “Shinobu-san said you requested a chance to work more independently. She thought pairing us would be a good experience.”
Genya whipped his head toward him, immediately regretting the motion as the boat tilted dangerously. “I said I wanted to work alone! ALONE! You’re not alone!”
Tanjiro blinked innocently. “Oh. Well, I guess she interpreted that differently.”
“I bet she did,” Genya grumbled, gripping the boat’s edge like his life depended on it. Which, considering how close they were to capsizing, it kind of did.
Tanjiro kept rowing, humming softly under his breath. Some upbeat tune that somehow made the nausea worse. His hair was sticking to his forehead from the sea spray, and his uniform sleeves were rolled up, revealing scarred forearms that caught the sunlight. Genya hated that it looked… heroic.
No, worse— he hated that he noticed it looked heroic.
“Stop humming,” Genya snapped.
“Huh? Oh— sorry,” Tanjiro said immediately, looking genuinely apologetic, which somehow irritated Genya more. “Does it bother you?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. No humming.”
Silence. Blessed, quiet silence— until Tanjiro’s stomach growled audibly.
Genya sighed. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
Tanjiro laughed awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. “Guess I forgot to eat breakfast. I was too excited about the mission.”
“Excited?” Genya stared at him like he was a different species. “We’re literally going to a demon-infested island. What’s there to be excited about?”
“Well,” Tanjiro said with that same calm optimism that made Genya’s head hurt, “it’s a new place. And new people to protect. And I get to work with you, so—”
“Stop right there.” Genya held up a hand. “Don’t say something weird.”
Tanjiro tilted his head. “Weird?”
“Yes. That.”
The boat rocked again. Genya clenched his teeth. “How long till we get there?”
“About an hour, if the waves stay kind.”
“Great,” Genya muttered. “Plenty of time to die of seasickness.”
Tanjiro chuckled softly. “You’ll be okay. Here—” He reached into his satchel and pulled out something wrapped in cloth. “Ginger. Helps with nausea.”
Genya stared at the offering like it might explode. “Why do you just have that?”
“You never know when someone might get seasick,” Tanjiro said, completely sincere. “I always keep some around just in case.”
“Of course you do,” Genya muttered, taking it anyway and chewing half-heartedly. He hated that it actually helped.
The waves calmed after a while, and Genya managed to sit upright without feeling like his soul was leaving his body. Tanjiro looked ridiculously at peace, like the ocean itself liked him.
“What’s with that face?” Genya said before he could stop himself.
Tanjiro blinked. “What face?”
“The— that face you’re making. All… calm and smiley. Like nothing ever bothers you.”
“Oh,” Tanjiro said softly, looking down at his hands. “I just try to stay positive. Even when things get hard.”
“Positive,” Genya repeated flatly. “You know that’s not normal, right?”
Tanjiro laughed a little. “Maybe not. But it helps.”
Genya rolled his eyes. “You’re insane.”
“Probably.”
When the island finally came into view, Genya nearly cheered. The sight of solid ground felt like salvation. Trees stretched up from the rocky coast, mist curling along the beach. It was quiet— too quiet.
Tanjiro’s expression shifted, eyes narrowing slightly as he sniffed the air. “There’s something strange here.”
“Yeah,” Genya muttered, dragging himself out of the boat and onto the sand. “It’s called land. You should try being grateful for it.”
Tanjiro smiled despite the tension. “No, I mean… the air smells different. Damp. Metallic.”
Genya frowned. “Blood?”
“Maybe,” Tanjiro said, scanning the treeline. “But faint. We should stay alert.”
Genya gripped his shotgun tighter. “You think?”
They moved inland, the sand giving way to damp grass and twisted roots. The forest felt heavy, like the air itself was pressing down on them. Even Genya’s irritation dimmed slightly under the weight of it.
They walked in silence for a while, the only sounds their boots crunching on the dirt and the occasional bird call. Tanjiro kept glancing at him like he wanted to say something, which only made Genya’s skin itch.
Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. “Spit it out.”
Tanjiro blinked. “Huh?”
“You’ve been looking at me like I’ve got two heads for the past ten minutes. What do you wanna say?”
“Oh— sorry,” Tanjiro said quickly. “I was just thinking about your brother.”
Genya froze. “Don’t.”
Tanjiro raised his hands defensively. “Sorry. I just meant— he’s really strong. I admire him.”
Genya’s jaw clenched. “Good for you.”
Tanjiro hesitated, then smiled softly. “You’ve got that same look in your eyes, you know. Determined.”
Genya turned on him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means,” Tanjiro said, calm as ever, “you remind me of him. A little.”
“I’m nothing like him.”
“I don’t think that’s true.”
Genya stared at him for a long second before muttering, “You don’t know a damn thing about me,” and walking faster.
Tanjiro didn’t argue. He just followed quietly, steps light, expression unreadable.
By the time they reached a small clearing near the island’s center, the sun had started dipping low. The air smelled faintly of salt and something coppery underneath it. Genya’s senses prickled.
“We should set up camp here,” Tanjiro said after a moment. “We can start tracking after sunrise.”
Genya wanted to argue, just on principle, but exhaustion won. “Fine.”
They worked in relative silence, setting up a small fire pit and gathering wood. Tanjiro handled it like he’d done it a thousand times— efficient, careful, humming again under his breath. Genya tried to ignore how natural it looked.
When the fire finally crackled to life, Tanjiro sat cross-legged beside it, warming his hands. Genya dropped down across from him, arms crossed, glaring into the flames.
“You don’t have to look so angry,” Tanjiro said gently.
“I’m not angry.”
“You look angry.”
“I’m not.”
“Okay. You look… focused?”
Genya shot him a look. “You’re pushing it, Kamado.”
Tanjiro laughed softly. “Sorry.”
They sat in silence again, the crackle of fire filling the gap. The forest around them was quiet, but not empty— the kind of silence that felt like something was watching from far away.
Tanjiro’s eyes flicked toward the trees. “There’s something here,” he said softly.
Genya followed his gaze but saw nothing. “You sure?”
“Yeah. But it’s not close. Not yet.”
Genya exhaled through his nose. “Great. Can’t wait.”
A few minutes later, Tanjiro pulled a small pot from his bag. “I brought miso soup mix,” he said cheerfully. “Thought we could use something warm.”
Genya blinked. “You packed soup?”
“Of course. We’ll need energy.”
“Unbelievable,” Genya muttered, but didn’t stop him. Tanjiro cooked like someone who’d done this every day of his life— precise movements, steady hands, patient timing. The smell drifted through the clearing, and Genya’s stomach betrayed him with a loud growl.
Tanjiro smiled, ladling soup into two small bowls. “Here. Be careful, it’s hot.”
Genya took it reluctantly, sipping just to shut him up.
And damn it all, it was good.
“Not bad,” he muttered.
“Thanks!” Tanjiro said brightly.
“Don’t let it go to your head.”
“I won’t.”
A beat. Then, Tanjiro looked up suddenly. “Genya?”
“What?”
“I’m glad it’s you.”
Genya froze mid-sip. “...What?”
“I mean,” Tanjiro continued, smile soft, “I’m glad I get to do this mission with you. You’re strong, and I know I can count on you.”
Genya stared at him, throat tight for reasons he couldn’t identify. Finally, he managed, “You’re— you’re a freak, you know that?”
Tanjiro just laughed. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
Genya muttered something unrepeatable and looked away. The fire crackled, the soup warmed his hands, and for the first time that day, he didn’t feel like punching something.
He hated that.
When they finally lay down for the night, Genya stared up at the dark canopy overhead, listening to Tanjiro’s even breathing beside him. The guy had fallen asleep almost instantly, because of course he had. Probably dreams about helping people or baking cookies or some other nonsense.
Genya rolled onto his side, frowning at the soft glow of the dying fire. The island was quiet now, but he could feel the faint pulse of demon energy in the air, faint but steady. Tomorrow would be hell.
And yet, what annoyed him most wasn’t the thought of fighting demons.
It was the fact that, somehow, Tanjiro Kamado didn’t seem half as unbearable anymore.
Genya groaned and covered his face with his arm. “This mission’s gonna kill me.”
But somewhere deep down, one muttered,
Or change you.
He ignored it.
Morning came too early, and Genya hated everything about it.
The first thing he noticed when he opened his eyes was sunlight hitting his face. The second thing was Tanjiro Kamado sitting cross-legged beside the dying campfire, humming quietly while roasting something that smelled suspiciously like fish.
Genya groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
“Oh! You’re awake!” Tanjiro said, way too cheerful for someone who’d apparently been up since dawn. “I caught breakfast.”
“Caught— what, with your bare hands?”
“Actually, yeah,” Tanjiro said, completely sincere. “They were right by the stream.”
Genya sat up slowly, squinting at him. Tanjiro looked like he’d already bathed, meditated, and written a thank-you letter to the fish for their sacrifice. His hair was damp, uniform clean, eyes bright. Meanwhile, Genya felt like something a demon coughed up.
“You’re not human,” Genya muttered.
Tanjiro laughed. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“It is.”
The fish turned out to be perfectly cooked, lightly salted with a squeeze of something citrusy. Genya ate in silence, pretending it wasn’t the best meal he’d had in weeks.
Tanjiro, of course, noticed anyway. “You like it?”
“It’s edible,” Genya said, avoiding eye contact.
“That’s good!” Tanjiro said brightly. “I wasn’t sure how long to roast it.”
“Congratulations, you’re a culinary genius,” Genya muttered, finishing his portion way too fast.
Tanjiro smiled like he didn’t even notice the sarcasm. “I can cook more if you’re still hungry.”
“I’m not.”
“You sure?”
“Yes!”
Tanjiro nodded, content. “Okay. I’ll pack the rest for later.”
Genya glared at him. “Do you ever stop being nice?”
Tanjiro tilted his head. “Would you prefer I wasn’t?”
“I—” Genya opened his mouth, realized he had no good answer, and grumbled something incoherent.
They spent the morning scouting the island. The forest stretched endlessly, thick with moss and fog. Every so often, Tanjiro would stop, close his eyes, and inhale deeply like he was smelling the memories of the earth or something weird like that.
Genya tried not to stare.
“Tch. You seriously gonna sniff your way through this entire island?”
Tanjiro looked over his shoulder, unbothered. “It helps me sense where the demon’s been. The scent’s faint, but I can tell it’s moving toward the north cliffs.”
“Great. Guess we’re going north, then,” Genya said, brushing past him.
Tanjiro followed, smiling faintly. “You’re good at tracking too, aren’t you?”
“Not like you,” Genya said flatly. “I use logic. You use your nose.”
“Both are useful!” Tanjiro said, apparently serious. “That’s what makes teamwork work.”
Genya shot him a glare over his shoulder. “Stop trying to make teamwork sound like a motivational speech.”
Tanjiro chuckled. “Sorry.”
“You’re not.”
“I’m really not,” Tanjiro admitted, grin widening.
Genya sighed. “Unbelievable.”
By midday, the sun was high and merciless, beating down through gaps in the canopy. They found a shallow river cutting through the forest and stopped to refill their water gourds.
Tanjiro knelt beside the riverbank, cupping water into his hands and splashing his face. “It’s clean,” he said, voice soft. “Smells fresh.”
“You can smell water?” Genya said, incredulous.
Tanjiro looked up, blinking. “Can’t you?”
“No! That’s not normal, Kamado!”
Tanjiro smiled sheepishly. “Guess I’ve just gotten used to it.”
Genya muttered something about weirdos and crouched to fill his gourd. He leaned a little too far and nearly lost his balance, the river current rushing fast against the rocks.
Tanjiro reached out instinctively. “Careful—”
“I got it—”
He didn’t got it.
One second Genya was kneeling, the next his boot slipped, and he went face-first into the cold water with a loud splash.
Tanjiro gasped. “Genya!”
Genya came up sputtering, soaked, hair plastered to his forehead, and looking like pure murder. “I meant to do that.”
Tanjiro blinked. “You meant to fall into a river?”
“Yes.”
“…Okay.”
Genya scowled harder. “Shut up.”
Tanjiro was trying not to laugh, but failing spectacularly. “Sorry, sorry— you just— you looked—”
“Finish that sentence and I’ll drown you,” Genya said, wringing out his sleeve.
Tanjiro held up his hands, still giggling. “You looked… determined.”
Genya groaned, glaring at the trees. “I hate this island.”
They found a new clearing by evening, a little higher up the cliffs with a good view of the sea. Tanjiro immediately got to work setting up camp again, while Genya sulked by a rock, still damp and grumpy.
“You should change,” Tanjiro said gently.
“I am changed,” Genya said.
“No, I mean into dry clothes.”
“I don’t have any.”
Tanjiro blinked. “You didn’t bring a spare?”
“Do I look like someone who plans for anything?”
Tanjiro thought about that for a second, then smiled softly. “No, but I brought extras.”
He reached into his pack and tossed over a clean uniform top, one size too big. Genya caught it, staring like it was an alien artifact.
“You carry spare uniforms too?”
“Sometimes mine get ripped,” Tanjiro said simply.
Genya sighed, muttering under his breath. “You’re impossible.”
“Thank you,” Tanjiro said cheerfully.
“That wasn’t a compliment.”
“Still, thank you.”
Genya groaned again and changed behind a tree, cursing under his breath the whole time. The uniform smelled faintly like pine and soap. Of course it did.
Later that night, they sat by another fire, the waves crashing distantly below the cliffs. The air was cool and still, and for once, Genya didn’t feel like murdering someone. Tanjiro was sitting beside him, gently mending a tear in Genya’s sleeve from the earlier fall.
“You really don’t have to do that,” Genya muttered.
“I don’t mind,” Tanjiro said, threading the needle with annoying precision. “It’s kinda relaxing.”
Genya watched him in disbelief. “You’re weird.”
“Maybe. But it’s better than sitting here doing nothing.”
“Not for me.”
Tanjiro laughed softly. “You really don’t like staying still, huh?”
Genya shrugged. “Never did. Training was easier that way.”
Tanjiro glanced up. “You train a lot?”
“Yeah. Have to.”
“To keep up with your brother?”
Genya froze. “Why do you—”
Tanjiro held up his hands quickly. “Sorry. You don’t have to answer that.”
Genya frowned down at the fire. “He’s strong. Everyone knows that. And I’m…” He hesitated. “Not.”
Tanjiro’s voice softened. “That’s not true.”
“Yeah? You’ve seen me fight.”
“I have,” Tanjiro said, smiling faintly. “And you’re strong, Genya. You don’t give up. That’s worth more than anything.”
Genya looked away, ears burning. “You say that like it’s easy.”
“It’s not easy,” Tanjiro said. “But I think it’s worth it.”
Genya wanted to argue, but couldn’t find the words. He just grunted, staring into the flames. His chest felt weird— like something heavy was sitting there, but not unpleasantly so.
“Why the hell am I not mad anymore,” he muttered under his breath.
“Hm?” Tanjiro looked up. “Did you say something?”
“Nothing.”
“Oh.” Tanjiro smiled again, that infuriating, gentle smile that somehow didn’t feel patronizing. “I’m glad we’re working together.”
Genya scowled. “You already said that yesterday.”
“I meant it yesterday too.”
“You’re unbelievable.”
“So I’ve been told.”
The night stretched on quietly. Crickets sang somewhere beyond the trees. The fire popped and crackled, throwing soft light over Tanjiro’s face.
Genya tried not to look too long, but it was hard not to notice how peaceful he looked, eyes half-lidded, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. He wasn’t forcing it, wasn’t faking it. He just was.
Genya didn’t know how anyone could be that calm after everything they’d been through.
“You’re staring,” Tanjiro said suddenly, still smiling.
Genya jerked. “I’m not!”
Tanjiro chuckled. “Okay.”
“I’m not!”
“I believe you.”
“You don’t sound like you do.”
Tanjiro shrugged. “You can stare if you want. I don’t mind.”
Genya made a strangled noise. “What— I— that’s not— shut up!”
Tanjiro laughed so hard he nearly fell backward. “You’re fun to tease, you know that?”
“I’m gonna punch you.”
“You won’t.”
“Watch me.”
Tanjiro only smiled wider, and somehow, Genya found himself fighting a grin too.
He covered it with a scowl immediately, but it was too late— Tanjiro had seen it.
“There it is,” Tanjiro said softly. “You should smile more.”
Genya huffed. “Don’t push your luck.”
Hours later, when the fire burned low and the sky glittered with stars, Genya lay back against his bedroll, arms folded under his head. Tanjiro was a few feet away, already half-asleep, his breathing slow and even.
The night was quiet, peaceful in a way Genya wasn’t used to. The wind rustled the leaves, carrying the faint scent of salt and smoke. Somewhere in the distance, a wave crashed against rock.
He glanced at Tanjiro again. The firelight caught the curve of his cheek, the soft rise and fall of his chest. Genya told himself he was just keeping watch— that someone had to stay alert— but his gaze lingered too long for that excuse to hold.
For a guy who broke his hand, Tanjiro looked annoyingly… harmless. Gentle, even. Like someone who couldn’t hurt a fly, even though Genya had seen him slice through demons without flinching.
It didn’t make sense.
None of this made sense.
Genya exhaled, closing his eyes. “You’re a pain in the ass, Kamado,” he muttered softly.
Tanjiro mumbled something in his sleep that sounded suspiciously like “thank you.”
Genya froze, then sighed. “Yeah. Figures.”
He rolled over, facing away from the fire. But even with his back turned, the warmth stayed.
By the third day, Genya thought he’d gotten used to Tanjiro’s constant optimism.
He hadn’t.
If anything, it was getting worse. The guy had an endless supply of energy and zero sense of self-preservation.
“Let’s check the cliffs again,” Tanjiro said, squinting up at the sunlight filtering through the mist. “I can still smell traces of blood, faint but fresh.”
Genya gripped his shotgun tighter. “If we’ve been following the same scent for hours and it keeps moving, maybe— just maybe— it’s following us.”
Tanjiro paused, blinking. “That’s… possible.”
Genya stared at him. “You think?!”
Tanjiro laughed sheepishly. “Guess I was too focused on the trail.”
Genya sighed. “Unbelievable. You’d probably apologize to the demon if it attacked you.”
“Only if it seemed sorry,” Tanjiro said lightly.
“That’s not funny.”
Tanjiro smiled. “I wasn’t joking.”
Genya groaned. “Of course you weren’t.”
They walked in silence for a while, the forest thickening as they approached the northern cliffs. The air was heavy, damp, and filled with that same faint metallic tang Tanjiro kept mentioning.
Genya couldn’t smell a damn thing— except maybe salt and moss— but the tension was crawling under his skin all the same.
Tanjiro slowed suddenly, hand going to his sword. “It’s close.”
“How close?” Genya asked, already raising his gun.
“Very.”
And that was all the warning they got before the trees exploded.
Something dark and fast slammed into the clearing, claws glinting, eyes glowing like coals. The demon moved on all fours, long limbs bending wrong, mouth stretching too wide when it hissed.
“Left!” Tanjiro shouted.
Genya dodged instinctively, the demon’s claws tearing through the air where he’d been a second ago. He fired a shot point-blank— the recoil kicked hard, the blast catching the creature in the shoulder and sending it spinning back.
Tanjiro was already there, blade flashing, movement sharp and fluid. He cut through the demon’s arm, but the thing was fast— faster than expected. It twisted, slammed him aside with one clawed swipe, and turned toward Genya again.
Genya cursed, firing another round. “Back off!”
The shot hit, but the demon kept moving, unfazed, bleeding black tar. Genya reloaded fast, but it lunged again, teeth bared.
And then Tanjiro was suddenly in front of him, blocking the hit with his sword.
The force threw both of them back, Tanjiro grunting as the demon’s claws raked across his side before Genya managed to blast its head clean off. The body hit the ground hard, twitching once before crumbling into ash.
The forest fell silent again, only their ragged breathing left.
“Tanjiro?” Genya said, heart still pounding.
Tanjiro smiled weakly. “That was close.”
“Don’t smile, you idiot!” Genya snapped. “You’re bleeding!”
Tanjiro looked down at his side like he’d just noticed. “Ah. Guess I am.”
“‘Guess’—?! Are you stupid? Sit down!”
Tanjiro blinked, confused at the sudden yelling. “I’m okay, really—”
“You’re not okay!” Genya barked, already grabbing his arm and dragging him toward a nearby boulder. “You took a hit for me, moron! Why would you—”
“Because you were in danger,” Tanjiro said simply.
Genya froze. “That’s— that’s not a good reason!”
Tanjiro tilted his head, still smiling faintly. “It is to me.”
Genya stared at him for a second, then cursed under his breath. “You’re insane.”
“Maybe.”
They found an abandoned shrine a short walk from the clearing— the kind of old, half-collapsed building that creaked with every gust of wind. It wasn’t much, but it had a roof and walls, and right now, that was enough.
Tanjiro leaned against one of the wooden pillars while Genya rifled through their packs for bandages. His uniform was torn, blood soaking through the side. It didn’t look deep, but seeing it made something twist unpleasantly in Genya’s chest.
“Take off your top,” he said gruffly.
Tanjiro blinked. “Sorry?”
“Your uniform,” Genya snapped, face heating up for reasons he refused to acknowledge. “I need to bandage the wound, idiot.”
“Oh! Right,” Tanjiro said quickly, unbuttoning the bloodstained haori. He winced slightly as the fabric peeled away from the cut.
Genya tried not to look. He failed.
The guy was built like someone who’d never skipped training a day in his life— lean muscle, pale skin scarred and toughened from years of battle.
Genya swallowed hard and looked away fast. “You really gotta stop throwing yourself in front of things with claws.”
Tanjiro chuckled softly. “I’ll try.”
“No, you won’t.”
“You’re probably right.”
Genya sighed. “Unbelievable.”
He soaked a cloth in clean water and started wiping away the blood. Tanjiro hissed quietly, shoulders tensing under his touch.
“Sorry,” Genya muttered.
“It’s okay,” Tanjiro said, voice gentle. “You’re being careful.”
Genya’s hands stilled for half a second before he kept working. “Don’t— don’t say weird things like that.”
“Why not?”
“Because,” Genya said, wrapping the bandage tighter than necessary, “it’s weird.”
Tanjiro laughed softly. “You really don’t like compliments, huh?”
“I don’t need them.”
“I think everyone does, sometimes.”
“Well, you’re wrong.”
“Am I?”
“Yes.”
Tanjiro smiled faintly. “You do care, though.”
Genya froze. “What?”
“You’re worried about me,” Tanjiro said matter-of-factly, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“I’m— I’m not—”
“You are,” Tanjiro interrupted gently, eyes soft. “And that’s okay.”
Genya stared at him, face burning, hands still mid-wrap. “You’re bleeding and delusional.”
Tanjiro chuckled again. “Maybe.”
When the bandaging was finally done, Tanjiro leaned back against the wall with a tired sigh. The wound wasn’t bad— shallow cut, clean edge— but it was enough to drain him. His breathing evened out, slower, calmer.
Genya sat cross-legged nearby, scowling at the floor. His hands still felt too warm. His heart wouldn’t calm down.
This wasn’t supposed to happen. He wasn’t supposed to care.
He was supposed to hate Tanjiro Kamado— the golden boy, the perfect trainee, the one who smiled his way through hell and somehow made everyone like him.
So why the hell did it feel like his chest was twisting every time Tanjiro winced?
“You’re thinking too loud,” Tanjiro said suddenly, eyes still half-open.
Genya jumped. “What?”
Tanjiro smiled weakly. “You’re glaring at the floor really hard.”
“Maybe the floor deserves it.”
“Did it do something wrong?”
“Yeah. It existed.”
Tanjiro laughed softly, then winced. “Ow.”
Genya rolled his eyes. “Serves you right.”
Tanjiro tilted his head. “You’re funny, Genya.”
“I’m not trying to be.”
“That’s what makes it funny.”
Genya exhaled, dragging a hand through his hair. “You’re exhausting.”
“I get that a lot,” Tanjiro said, leaning his head back against the wall. “But I like talking to you.”
Genya blinked. “You what?”
“I like it,” Tanjiro said simply. “You’re honest. Most people dance around what they mean. You just say it.”
Genya looked away quickly. “Yeah, well. I’m not good at… dancing around.”
“That’s a good thing,” Tanjiro said, smiling softly. “It means you mean what you say.”
Genya muttered, “I should stop saying things, then.”
The shrine creaked as the wind picked up outside. Shadows flickered across the floor. The tension from earlier had faded into something quieter, heavier— not uncomfortable, but strange.
After a while, Tanjiro spoke again, voice softer. “Can I ask you something?”
Genya hesitated. “What?”
“Your brother,” Tanjiro said gently. “Sanemi-san. You look up to him a lot, don’t you?”
Genya stiffened. “That’s none of your business.”
“I know,” Tanjiro said quickly. “I just— I can tell you care about him.”
Genya stared at the bandages wrapped around Tanjiro’s torso, neat and tight. His hands still smelled faintly of antiseptic and blood.
“He’s strong,” Genya said finally, voice low. “Always has been. And he— he’s the reason I’m still alive. But he doesn’t… see me that way.”
Tanjiro’s gaze softened. “You want him to be proud of you.”
Genya’s jaw tightened. “I just want him to stop looking at me like I’m a damn kid who’ll never measure up.”
Tanjiro was quiet for a moment. Then, softly: “You don’t need his approval to have worth, you know.”
Genya frowned. “That’s easy for you to say. Everyone already likes you.”
Tanjiro looked surprised, then a little sad. “That’s not true.”
Genya scoffed. “Sure.”
“I mean it,” Tanjiro said. “People trust me, but that doesn’t mean they always understand me. Or that I don’t mess up.”
“Yeah, but you don’t get called a screw-up every time you breathe,” Genya muttered.
Tanjiro smiled faintly. “Maybe not. But I know what it’s like to want someone to see you. To really see you.”
Genya blinked at him, thrown off by the quiet honesty in his voice.
Tanjiro met his eyes, expression steady. “For what it’s worth, I see you, Genya.”
Genya’s breath caught. “Don’t— say things like that.”
“Why not?”
“Because,” Genya muttered, looking away fast, “you’re not supposed to be this nice.”
Tanjiro chuckled softly. “Sorry. It’s a bad habit.”
“You think?”
Tanjiro nodded. “But it’s one I don’t want to break.”
They didn’t talk much after that. The storm outside grew louder, rain pattering softly against the broken roof. Tanjiro’s breathing evened out again as he started to drift off, exhaustion finally catching up.
Genya sat beside him, back against the same wall, trying not to think too hard. His pulse was still too fast. His brain was a mess.
This was stupid. He shouldn’t care. He shouldn’t—
Tanjiro shifted slightly, head tilting until it landed gently against Genya’s shoulder.
Genya froze. Completely.
“Kamado,” he whispered. No response. The guy was out cold.
Genya stared down at him, unsure what to do with his hands, or his entire existence. Tanjiro’s hair brushed his collarbone, warm breath ghosting against his neck. The contact sent a shock through him that he refused to acknowledge.
He could push him off. He should push him off. That would be the logical thing to do.
He didn’t.
Instead, he sat there, every muscle in his body tense, pretending the heat in his chest was just from the fire burning low across the room.
Minutes passed. The rain softened outside.
Tanjiro murmured something in his sleep— Genya caught his name, half-formed, like a sigh.
Something inside him twisted painfully, then settled.
“Idiot,” he muttered softly, eyes closing. “You’re gonna make me lose my damn mind.”
But he didn’t move.
And when Tanjiro’s hand unconsciously brushed against his sleeve, Genya let out a quiet, shaky laugh.
“Fine,” he whispered. “Just for tonight.”
Outside, the storm faded to a drizzle. Inside the old shrine, two slayers sat in silence. One asleep, one pretending he wasn’t watching every slow breath like it mattered too much.
The next morning started the way every terrible morning did — with Genya being woken up by Tanjiro’s voice.
“Genya, the rain stopped! There’s sunlight!”
Genya cracked one eye open, squinting against the glare filtering through the cracked roof of the shrine. “Why do you sound happy about that?”
“Because it means we can track again,” Tanjiro said cheerfully, already halfway packed up. His haori was still torn at the side, bandages peeking out underneath, but the idiot looked like he hadn’t been clawed yesterday.
Genya sat up slowly, groaning. “You heal too fast. It’s creepy.”
Tanjiro laughed softly. “That’s just good blood circulation.”
“No, that’s suspicious.”
“Are you complimenting or accusing me?”
“I haven’t decided yet.”
Tanjiro just smiled and handed him a rice ball. “Eat first, argue later.”
Genya scowled, snatching it. “You bossy bastard.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“It is.”
“Mm, you’re smiling though.”
“I’m not.”
Tanjiro just grinned wider, like he knew he’d won. And Genya hated that — hated that stupid, calm, sunshine grin that somehow made the air feel lighter even when everything else was heavy.
He took a big bite of the rice ball just to shut him up.
They followed the scent trail again, deeper into the island’s northern cliffs. The terrain shifted from forest to sharp, uneven stone. The waves crashed below, sending mist up through the cracks in the cliffs.
Tanjiro paused suddenly, nostrils flaring. “It’s here again. Same scent as yesterday— but stronger.”
Genya cocked his shotgun. “Guess it didn’t take the hint.”
Tanjiro’s eyes flicked to him, calm but focused. “Stay close, okay?”
Genya snorted. “Don’t tell me what to do.”
“I mean it. It’s fast— and it’s been watching us since dawn.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Genya muttered. “I’ll stay close.”
But he did.
Because for once, Tanjiro wasn’t just some annoyingly kind idiot— he was sharp, serious, eyes cutting through the mist like a blade. It was weirdly grounding.
They reached the cliff edge where the trees thinned out. And then, just like before, the demon hit.
It burst from the rocks, a blur of teeth and claws and shrieking fury. But this time, they moved together.
Genya fired the instant Tanjiro called it. Tanjiro pivoted right when Genya ducked. Their rhythm clicked without words— one cut, one shot, one breath.
It was almost unnerving, how natural it felt.
Tanjiro parried a strike and shouted, “Now!”
Genya didn’t even hesitate— he leapt in, blade drawn, slicing through the demon’s chest as Tanjiro followed up with a clean, precise decapitation.
The head hit the ground, body collapsing seconds later.
Silence. Just their breathing and the distant sound of waves below.
Tanjiro exhaled, lowering his sword. “Nice work, partner.”
Genya blinked, adrenaline still buzzing through him. “Partner?”
Tanjiro smiled. “You fought really well. We made a good team.”
Genya’s mouth opened. Closed. Then opened again. “…You’re serious?”
“Of course. I mean— you covered me perfectly.”
“That’s because you almost got your arm torn off.”
“And you stopped that from happening,” Tanjiro said brightly. “So technically, you saved me again.”
Genya frowned. “Stop making it sound like I did something noble.”
“But you did.”
“I didn’t.”
“You did.”
“I didn’t—!” Genya stopped mid-protest when Tanjiro stepped closer, smile soft, warm. “What are you—”
“Thank you,” Tanjiro said quietly. “For trusting me.”
And that was it. That single, stupid sentence that made Genya’s chest do a weird, traitorous flutter.
Trust. The word hit harder than it should have. Because he did. He trusted him. Somewhere between the fights, the teasing, and the late-night campfire talks, he’d started to believe in that infuriating smile.
He looked away fast. “Whatever. Don’t make it weird.”
Tanjiro tilted his head. “Weird?”
“Yeah. The whole— ‘trust’ thing. You’re gonna make me sound sentimental.”
Tanjiro laughed softly. “You already do.”
“I don’t!”
“You kinda do.”
“I don’t, Kamado!”
“Sure.”
“Stop smiling!”
“I can’t.”
Genya glared. “You— you’re impossible.”
Tanjiro just kept looking at him like he was something worth smiling at. And that was the moment Genya’s brain short-circuited completely.
The adrenaline, the warmth, the sunlight breaking through the fog— it all mixed into one dizzying blur. His mouth moved before his brain could stop him.
He kissed him.
It wasn’t planned. It wasn’t even graceful. One second he was glaring, the next he’d grabbed Tanjiro’s haori and pressed his mouth against his.
Tanjiro froze for half a heartbeat— then kissed him back.
And that was worse. So much worse. Because Tanjiro kissed like he meant it. Soft, sure, and steady in that infuriatingly sincere way of his.
Genya’s heart did a full somersault.
Then realization slammed into him like a sledgehammer.
He pulled back so fast he almost tripped over a rock. “WHAT— what the hell did I just—?!”
Tanjiro blinked, lips still slightly parted, looking dazed. “Uh… we… kissed?”
“NO KIDDING!” Genya yelled, face on fire. “Why— why did I— WHY DID YOU—?!”
Tanjiro blinked again. “Because you kissed me first?”
“DON’T SAY IT LIKE THAT!”
“Like what?”
“Like— like it was normal!”
Tanjiro tilted his head, thoughtful. “It felt normal.”
Genya made a strangled noise. “Oh my god— you’re— you’re calm about this?!”
Tanjiro laughed softly. “Should I not be?”
“Yes! You should be— freaking out! Or angry! Or— or— something!”
“I’m not angry,” Tanjiro said, still smiling that soft, maddening smile. “I’m… happy.”
Genya’s brain completely blue-screened. “You— happy—? Did you hit your head?”
Tanjiro shook his head gently. “No. I just… I like you, Genya.”
Genya froze, every nerve in his body lighting up like someone dumped a bucket of lightning down his spine. “You what?!”
“I like you,” Tanjiro repeated, voice calm, genuine. “A lot, actually.”
Genya opened his mouth. Closed it. Pointed at him. “You— you can’t just say that!”
“Why not?”
“Because—!” He threw his hands up. “Because that’s not how this works!”
“How does it work then?”
“I don’t know! But not like that!”
Tanjiro tried (and failed) to hide his laugh. “You’re really cute when you panic.”
“I’m not cute, I’m having a crisis!”
“That’s kind of cute too.”
“STOP SAYING THAT!”
Tanjiro’s shoulders shook with quiet laughter. “Okay, okay, sorry.”
“No, you’re not!”
“I might not be.”
Genya groaned, dragging both hands down his face. “I can’t— I can’t deal with you.”
Tanjiro smiled, stepping closer again. “You don’t have to deal with me.”
“Then what am I supposed to—”
Tanjiro kissed him again.
This time slower. Surer.
Genya’s brain gave up completely. His hands found Tanjiro’s sleeves before he could think, holding on like he’d forget how to breathe if he didn’t.
Tanjiro’s hand brushed his jaw, fingers warm, gentle. The kiss deepened just a little— enough to make Genya’s knees feel suspiciously unreliable.
When they finally pulled apart, both of them were flushed and breathing unevenly.
Genya stared at him, completely undone. “What— what the hell are we doing?”
Tanjiro smiled faintly. “Something nice.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“Then… something right?”
Genya’s ears burned. “You’re unbearable.”
Tanjiro’s grin widened. “You don’t mean that.”
“I do!”
“Really?”
“…Mostly.”
Tanjiro chuckled, brushing a stray strand of hair from Genya’s forehead. “I never hated you, you know.”
Genya blinked. “What?”
“You always looked so angry,” Tanjiro said softly. “But I could tell it wasn’t just anger. It felt… lonely.”
Genya’s throat went tight. “Don’t— psychoanalyze me right after kissing me.”
“I’m not. I’m just being honest.”
“That’s worse!”
Tanjiro smiled. “You told me not to dance around things.”
“That was before I knew what it’d feel like!”
“Do you regret it?”
“…No,” Genya muttered, looking away. “Just— don’t tell anyone.”
“Of course not,” Tanjiro said, voice gentle. “It’s between us.”
“Good. Because if Zenitsu finds out, he’ll never shut up.”
Tanjiro laughed quietly. “He’d probably faint first.”
“Yeah, then scream about destiny or some crap.”
They both broke into laughter— real, unguarded laughter that echoed off the rocks. The kind that made Genya’s stomach hurt but in a good way.
It felt… light. Which was weird. Because kissing Tanjiro Kamado was not supposed to make him feel lighter. It was supposed to make things complicated. But somehow, it didn’t.
It just made sense.
And then, right as Genya started to relax, a seagull dive-bombed between them, snatching the last rice ball from Tanjiro’s pack.
Tanjiro blinked. “Was that—?”
Genya threw up his hands. “Of course! Of course a bird ruins the moment!”
Tanjiro was laughing too hard to answer.
“Stop laughing!” Genya yelled, chasing after the bird anyway. “That was my breakfast!”
Tanjiro called after him, still grinning. “I’ll make more later!”
“That’s not the point!”
“Then what is the point?”
Genya stopped, glaring at him from a few feet away— breathless, blushing, completely gone. “The point,” he said finally, “is that you drive me insane.”
Tanjiro smiled, walking over, eyes crinkling. “Good. Then we’re even.”
Genya blinked. “You— what?”
“You drive me a little insane too,” Tanjiro said, softly enough that it made Genya’s heart trip over itself. “But I don’t mind.”
And just like that— like an idiot— Genya smiled. A real one. He couldn’t help it.
“Yeah,” he muttered. “Me neither.”
Tanjiro laughed under his breath. “So… what now?”
Genya thought for a long moment, then shrugged. “We don’t tell anyone. We finish the mission. And if you tell anyone about the kissing— I’ll shoot you.”
Tanjiro nodded solemnly. “That seems fair.”
“Good.”
“But,” Tanjiro added, eyes gleaming with mischief, “I can still kiss you again, right?”
Genya choked. “WHAT—”
Too late. Tanjiro leaned in, stealing another quick kiss before darting away, laughing as he dodged a half-hearted swing from Genya.
“You’re— you’re so dead, Kamado!”
Tanjiro just grinned over his shoulder. “You’ll have to catch me first!”
Genya groaned, chasing after him through the misty cliffs— swearing under his breath but grinning like a fool the entire time.
Somewhere between all the chaos, the anger, and the ridiculousness of it all, he realized something that should’ve been obvious from the start.
He didn’t hate Tanjiro Kamado anymore.
Not even a little.
The return trip to the mainland was worse than the ride there— mostly because Genya had to deal with his own brain this time.
Last time, he’d been too seasick to think.
This time, he was seasick and overthinking everything that had happened on the island.
The boat rocked, waves slapping against the hull as Tanjiro hummed cheerfully beside him, tying their packs together. He’d offered— no, insisted— on doing it “for safety,” which apparently meant lashing everything down while smiling like they hadn’t almost died forty-eight hours ago.
Genya hunched at the edge of the boat, glaring at the water. “If I throw up, it’s your fault.”
Tanjiro looked up, concerned. “Do you want ginger? I packed some this time.”
“You packed ginger?”
“For you!” Tanjiro said brightly, as if that wasn’t completely deranged. “I remembered you got sick last time.”
Genya stared at him. “You— remembered that?”
“Of course. I pay attention.”
Genya looked away fast. “Stop saying stuff like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like— like you’re nice on purpose.”
Tanjiro laughed softly. “I can’t help it.”
“Yeah, you can. Just— stop being nice.”
“Never.”
Genya groaned. “You’re infuriating.”
Tanjiro grinned, clearly pleased with himself. “You like me.”
“I don’t!”
“You kissed me four times.”
“That was battle adrenaline!”
“Sure it was.”
Genya muttered something unprintable under his breath and turned back to the water, trying not to smile.
When they finally docked, the air smelled different— familiar. Clean wood, salt, and the faint scent of soil from the mainland forest. It was strange how comforting it felt after the isolation of the island.
Tanjiro hopped off first, landing lightly on the dock and holding out a hand. “Careful, it’s slippery.”
Genya stared at the offered hand like it was a trap. “I can get off a boat by myself.”
Tanjiro just kept smiling, hand still out. “I know. But I want to help.”
Genya rolled his eyes, but took it anyway. “You’re so annoying.”
“And you’re grumpy,” Tanjiro said, pulling him up easily. “We balance each other out.”
“Who said we needed balance?”
“I did.”
“That’s not how that works.”
“It is now.”
Genya sighed. “I can’t tell if you’re dumb or a genius.”
Tanjiro laughed softly. “A little of both?”
“Yeah. Figures.”
They made their way back toward headquarters, cutting through the familiar forest trails. The tension that had always lived under Genya’s skin— the one that came from constantly proving himself, constantly being measured against Sanemi— had dulled into something quieter.
It was weird. He didn’t feel like he was chasing something anymore.
Tanjiro noticed the silence. “You’re quiet today.”
“Thinking.”
“About?”
Genya hesitated, kicking a small rock off the path. “Stuff.”
Tanjiro smiled faintly. “You’re doing it again.”
“What?”
“Hiding behind vague words.”
Genya scowled. “Don’t analyze me.”
“I wasn’t,” Tanjiro said lightly. “I just— like hearing what you actually think.”
Genya’s jaw worked for a second. Then he sighed. “Fine. I was thinking that maybe— maybe you’re not as much of an idiot as I thought.”
Tanjiro laughed. “Wow. High praise.”
“Don’t push it.”
“I’ll take it anyway.”
Genya shot him a look. “You’re impossible.”
Tanjiro smiled softly. “You’ve said that before.”
“Because it keeps being true.”
When they reached the Butterfly Mansion, the sun was dipping low, the air warm and gold. Shinobu greeted them at the gate with her usual calm smile, though her eyes lingered knowingly on the faint blush creeping up Genya’s neck.
“Welcome back,” she said lightly. “You both look… well.”
Tanjiro bowed politely. “Mission completed successfully, Shinobu-san.”
Genya gave a curt nod. “Demon’s dead. Area’s safe.”
“Excellent,” she said, folding her hands. “No serious injuries this time?”
Tanjiro smiled. “None that need treatment.”
“Good. Nezuko will be happy to see you.”
Tanjiro brightened. “She’s awake?”
“She woke up this morning,” Shinobu said with a small smile. “Though she’s been sulking. I think she missed you.”
Tanjiro’s eyes softened. “Thank you, Shinobu-san.”
She nodded before turning her gaze to Genya, that teasing glint never quite hidden. “You seem less angry than usual, Shinazugawa.”
Genya blinked. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Oh, nothing,” she said innocently. “Just an observation.”
Tanjiro tried very hard not to laugh.
Genya glared at him. “Don’t you dare.”
“I didn’t say anything,” Tanjiro said, voice cracking from the effort of not smiling.
“You’re thinking something.”
“I always am.”
“That’s suspicious.”
Shinobu cleared her throat delicately. “Well, I’ll leave you two to rest. Tanjiro, your sister’s waiting inside. Genya, I’m sure your brother will be interested to hear your report.”
Genya paled slightly. “Yeah. Can’t wait.”
“Don’t worry,” Tanjiro said quietly once Shinobu walked off. “He’ll be proud.”
Genya scoffed. “You don’t know him.”
“I know you,” Tanjiro said gently. “And I know you did good work.”
Genya’s throat felt weirdly tight again. “Stop saying things that make me— feel stuff.”
Tanjiro smiled. “Sorry.”
“You’re not.”
“I might not be.”
“Of course not.”
Inside, the chaos began immediately.
“GENYA!” Zenitsu’s voice echoed across the courtyard. “You’re ALIVE!”
Genya barely had time to react before Zenitsu came sprinting over, waving his arms dramatically. “I thought you’d be eaten or possessed or— wait.” He froze mid-sentence, narrowing his eyes. “Why are you BLUSHING?”
Genya went rigid. “I’m not.”
Zenitsu pointed an accusing finger. “You are! You totally are! What happened on that island?!”
“None of your damn business!”
Inosuke popped out from behind a bush like he’d been waiting for his cue. “DID YOU FIGHT A SEA DEMON?!”
“No.”
“DID YOU EAT IT?!”
“What— no!”
“DID YOU MAKE OUT WITH IT?!”
“WHAT THE— NO!”
Tanjiro, unfortunately, chose that exact moment to walk in, completely calm. “Hi, guys.”
Zenitsu’s head whipped around. “OH. MY. GOD.”
Genya immediately pointed at him. “Don’t.”
Zenitsu grinned like a man possessed. “You’re blushing more! Wait— wait, was it HIM?!”
Inosuke gasped. “YOU KISSED THE NICE ONE?!”
“I’LL KILL YOU BOTH!”
Tanjiro blinked, utterly unfazed. “We should probably… go somewhere else?”
“Yes!” Genya snapped, dragging him by the wrist toward the courtyard exit while Zenitsu’s screams of dramatic agony followed them. “NOW!”
“I think they know,” Tanjiro said, laughing.
“Shut up.”
They ended up at the far edge of the garden, where the air smelled like wisteria and the noise of the mansion faded behind the trees. Tanjiro sat on a low stone wall, watching the sunset paint the sky in shades of orange and pink.
Genya stood nearby, arms crossed, still red to his ears. “They’re idiots.”
“They mean well.”
“They’re idiots.”
Tanjiro smiled softly. “You’re cute when you’re flustered.”
“Stop saying that.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m not.”
Tanjiro tilted his head. “I think you are.”
“Yeah, well, your judgment’s broken.”
Tanjiro chuckled. “Maybe.”
Genya sighed, sitting beside him. The air was warm, quiet except for the hum of crickets. It felt peaceful. Weirdly peaceful. Like the world wasn’t waiting for them to fight something again.
He leaned back slightly, watching the light fade. “Feels weird, being back.”
Tanjiro hummed. “Good weird or bad weird?”
“…Good, I guess.”
“Because we survived?”
“Because…” Genya hesitated. “Because it feels different now. I feel— different.”
Tanjiro glanced over, expression soft. “How so?”
“I don’t know.” Genya frowned, searching for the words. “I’m still me. Still angry. Still… trying. But it doesn’t feel like I’m trying alone anymore.”
Tanjiro smiled, the kind that reached his eyes. “You’re not.”
Genya looked away quickly, ears pink again. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t get all sentimental on me.”
“Too late,” Tanjiro said quietly.
“Figures.”
They sat there until the last streaks of sunset faded into dusk. The garden lights flickered on, gentle and gold. Tanjiro shifted slightly, shoulders brushing Genya’s. The contact was small, unspoken— but it settled something in Genya’s chest that he hadn’t even realized was restless.
Tanjiro spoke first, voice low. “I have to leave tomorrow morning. Another mission.”
Genya’s heart sank before he could stop it. “Already?”
Tanjiro nodded. “I’ll come back soon. Promise.”
Genya looked down at his hands. “You better. Because if you die, I’ll kill you.”
Tanjiro laughed softly. “That sounds fair.”
“I’m serious.”
“I know.”
Genya risked a glance at him. Tanjiro’s face was calm, but there was warmth there too— the kind that made it hard to breathe properly.
“You really don’t listen, do you?” Genya muttered.
“To what?”
“When people tell you to stop being so nice.”
Tanjiro smiled, leaning closer. “Guess not.”
Before Genya could come up with something snarky to say, Tanjiro kissed him again.
It was slower this time. Softer. Just enough to make his brain short-circuit all over again.
When Tanjiro pulled back, their foreheads stayed close, breaths mingling in the quiet evening air.
“See you soon, Genya,” he whispered.
Genya swallowed hard. “Y-yeah. You too, idiot.”
Tanjiro grinned. “You really like calling me that.”
“It’s accurate.”
Tanjiro chuckled, brushing his thumb over Genya’s hand before standing. “Goodnight.”
Genya watched him walk away until he disappeared into the mansion’s glow.
He sat there a little longer, the cool air brushing against his skin, the faint trace of warmth still on his lips. His chest felt weird— not tight, not heavy. Just… warm.
He ran a hand through his hair, huffing a quiet laugh. “Maybe being stuck with that idiot wasn’t so bad after all.”
Epilogue
It started, as all catastrophes do, with Shinobu Kocho smiling just a little too sweetly.
The Hashira meeting was halfway through— calm, quiet, respectful as always in the presence of Master Ubuyashiki. Wind rustled through the open courtyard, paper screens glowing faintly in the morning sun. Sanemi Shinazugawa was doing his best to look like he wasn’t dying of boredom.
He’d zoned out somewhere between “structural repair updates” and “new recruits' uniform sizing.” His leg bounced impatiently under the table, his arms crossed, and he was only half-listening until Shinobu’s voice cut through the air, far too bright for comfort.
“Oh, by the way,” she said sweetly, “I have the most delightful bit of news.”
Mitsuri perked up immediately. “Ooh! What is it?”
Sanemi didn’t even look up. “If it’s about those damn caterpillars in your garden again—”
“Oh, no,” Shinobu said, the picture of innocence. “It’s about your brother.”
Sanemi froze mid-sentence. His head snapped up so fast his neck cracked. “…What about Genya?”
Obanai blinked, suspicious. “Is he in trouble?”
“Not at all,” Shinobu said, clasping her hands behind her back, her eyes gleaming like a cat about to push something very expensive off a shelf. “Quite the opposite, actually. He’s… thriving.”
“Thriving how?” Sanemi asked, narrowing his eyes.
“Emotionally,” Shinobu said. “Romantically, even.”
Sanemi’s brain short-circuited. “…What?”
“I said—”
“I heard you!” he snapped, face already red. “The hell does that mean, romantically?!”
Mitsuri gasped. “Wait— Genya has a lover?!”
“Apparently so,” Shinobu said, looking far too pleased with herself. “It seems he’s been… spending quite a bit of time with Tanjiro Kamado lately.”
There was a silence so heavy it could’ve crushed a small building.
Then, from somewhere near the end of the table, Tengen whistled low. “Huh. Didn’t see that coming.”
Giyu blinked once. “…Tanjiro?”
“Yes,” Shinobu said, clearly enjoying herself. “You know, the kind, polite one? Red hair, earrings, charming disposition?”
Sanemi’s chair screeched as he stood up so fast it nearly fell over. “WHAT?”
Muichiro looked mildly confused. “Who’s Genya again?”
“That’s his little brother,” Kyojuro whispered helpfully, grinning ear to ear. “Apparently in love now!”
Sanemi slammed his hands on the table. “He’s WHAT—”
“Please don’t break the furniture,” Shinobu said calmly. “It’s new.”
“I’M GONNA BREAK SOMETHING!”
Ubuyashiki, who had remained serenely silent through this entire exchange, smiled softly. “Ah… young love. How wonderful.”
“WONDERFUL?!” Sanemi sputtered. “Master, with all due respect— that brat— that brat—”
“He’s an excellent young man,” Ubuyashiki said kindly. “And very good for your brother, I think.”
Sanemi looked like he was about to combust. “GOOD FOR— HE BROKE GENYA’S HAND ONCE!”
Mitsuri gasped again, eyes wide. “He what?”
“It was an accident!” Shinobu said cheerfully. “They’ve made up since then. Quite passionately, from what I’ve heard.”
“FROM WHAT YOU’VE— SHINOBU, WHAT ARE YOU SAYING?!”
She smiled sweetly. “Oh, just that they seem… close. Very close.”
“Define close,” Obanai muttered.
“Oh, kissing close,” Shinobu said casually, and all hell broke loose.
Tengen actually leaned back and laughed. “Damn, the kid moves fast. Respect.”
Kyojuro beamed, clapping his hands together. “That’s wonderful! Love is a flame that burns bright in the hearts of even the youngest swordsmen!”
“Flame my ass!” Sanemi barked, pacing furiously. “I’m gonna find that scar-faced brat and—”
“—congratulate him?” Shinobu offered.
“KILL HIM!”
Giyu blinked again. “You can’t kill Tanjiro.”
“WATCH ME!”
Obanai sighed. “You’ll regret that. Kamado’s protected by half the Corps at this point.”
“AND HE’S GOT MY BROTHER!”
Mitsuri covered her mouth, clearly torn between concern and glee. “It’s just so romantic, though!”
Sanemi turned to her, incredulous. “How is ANY of this romantic?!”
“Forbidden love!” she said dreamily. “The younger brother of the Wind Hashira and the boy with the demon sister— it’s like something out of a novel!”
“IT’S LIKE SOMETHING OUT OF MY WORST NIGHTMARE!”
Shinobu chuckled quietly. “You’ll get used to it.”
“I’LL NEVER—”
“—you will,” she said serenely, pouring herself tea. “Probably sooner than you think. You know, Genya’s been in a much better mood lately. Eating properly. Smiling more. It’s adorable.”
Sanemi blinked, thrown off just enough for his rage to stutter. “…He’s smiling?”
“Mm-hm,” she said. “And talking to people. Helping out around the mansion. He’s even… less angry.”
Sanemi frowned, shoulders still tense. “Tch. That idiot never knows when to shut up.”
“Maybe,” Shinobu said, “but he looks happier.”
There was a pause. Long. Almost peaceful.
Sanemi’s hand dropped from his sword hilt. His expression softened— barely.
“…Happier, huh?” he muttered.
“Yes,” Shinobu said, voice gentle now. “He’s growing up well. You should be proud.”
Sanemi’s jaw worked, conflicted. Then, with a sigh that sounded like it scraped out of his lungs, he muttered, “…Damn brat.”
“Love you too, huh?” Tengen teased.
“Shut it, Sound-boy.”
By the time the meeting adjourned, Shinobu’s “announcement” had spread like wildfire.
Within an hour, the entire Corps knew.
Within two, someone had drawn a crude doodle of Genya and Tanjiro holding hands and posted it on the bulletin board.
Somewhere, very far from the chaos, Tanjiro found him sitting on the mansion roof, glaring at the stars.
“You heard?” Tanjiro asked sheepishly, climbing up beside him.
“Heard?” Genya snapped. “The whole damn Corps is talking about it! My brother almost died of rage in front of the Master!”
Tanjiro laughed softly. “He didn’t, though.”
“Not for lack of trying,” Genya grumbled. “I swear, if Shinobu ever opens her mouth again—”
“She meant well.”
“She never means well.”
Tanjiro chuckled. “You’re adorable when you’re mad.”
“Don’t start,” Genya muttered, though the corner of his mouth twitched. “I hate you.”
“Sure you do,” Tanjiro said, leaning closer, voice low. “Want to prove it?”
Genya froze. “Don’t you dare—”
Too late. Tanjiro kissed him again— quick, warm, and absolutely impossible to stay angry after.
When he pulled back, Genya sighed, shoving at his shoulder halfheartedly. “You’re lucky I like you.”
Tanjiro grinned. “I know.”
Genya rolled his eyes, muttering as he leaned against him anyway. “Damn idiot.”
“Yeah,” Tanjiro said quietly, smiling at the night sky. “Your idiot.”