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As the second oldest, Nezuko believed she should be more mature. Everything had ended, yet she couldn't help but blame herself.
Nezuko lay awake at night, wiping her tears away as memories of the past flooded back, as they always seemed to at night.
A demon had massacred her family while Tanjiro was away, and as the second oldest, she felt she should have protected them. Instead, she was turned into a demon, rendered useless, and had to rely on everyone else to keep her safe.
Her brother dedicated his life to hunting their family's murderer, while she stood passively, watching him get hurt, unable to reassure or comfort him.
Many sacrificed themselves to keep her out of Muzan's grasp, yet she couldn't even thank or apologize to those who had given their lives.
She felt so useless. Because of her, Tanjiro lost his right eye and his left arm, yet he still insisted on doing housework despite her protests that she could handle it.
Night was the only time she could cry about these things; she didn't want Tanjiro worrying more than he already did, that would just be more on his plate.
Perhaps he was restless, or maybe she cried a little too loudly; she wasn't sure, but now Tanjiro sat up in his futon, rubbing sleep out of his one good eye.
After doing all the housework, the least he could do was get some proper sleep, and yet she had gone and ruined that for him.
Call it older brother intuition, but Tanjiro could tell something was bothering Nezuko. He could tell by the way she quickly offered to do something for him as he was about to do it.
He understood that her urgency was partly because he was disabled, but there was something more to it. When she grabbed the basket, there was an urgent, pleading look in her eyes. She insisted she could take care of the hanging laundry, even though she had just finished preparing their dinner for the night.
To him, it seemed like she was trying to prove something, not to him but to herself. He wanted to ask her what was bothering her, but knew better not to pester her, since, much like himself, she would brush it off.
But now, after seeing her awake in the middle of the night, he couldn't help but ask what was bothering her.
“Nezuko,” Tanjiro begins, “Something’s bothering you, isn't it?”
“Of course not!” Nezuko says, “I'm fine-”
“Nezuko, I'm your older brother. I can tell when you're not doing fine,” he cuts her off, a hint of sadness in his voice.
Ah. She's been found out. After trying so hard to keep her worries from her brother, he eventually found out anyway.
I really am just a burden.
Tears began to fall again as she desperately tried to hide them.
Tanjiro's heart clenches at the thought, remembering she used to do this as a child.
“Nezuko, it's okay to cry,” he says, getting up from his futon to crouch near her and hug her.
“I won't force you to tell me, but just know that I'm here and I will listen when you're ready,” Tanjiro speaks up again, trying to reassure her.
Perhaps one day, when she has learned to be kinder to herself, she would find the courage to tell him. She knew that sharing her feelings could help her embrace her own worth, and while today wasn't that day, she held onto the hope that it would come soon, when she could finally see herself the way everyone else saw her.
She returns the hug while silently apologizing for waking him. Of course, he tells her it's fine; everyone always tells her it's fine, and just this once she lets herself believe it.