Work Text:
Aiko was a beauty and a half, anyone with eyes could see that. Standing over five feet tall with auburn hair and in a dress that reached halfway down her thighs, any peasant was lucky for being one of her classmates at the campus. She had a figure to match and skin as white and pretty as snow. Zenitsu was blessed for being one of those said peasants with eyes who could stare at her all day.
“So, so and super blessed!” At least that’s what he tried to enlighten all of his seatmates with anytime the conversation so much as steered towards girls. Sometimes the conversation went there anyway even if the topic was something as unrelated as what they had for breakfast this morning.
“Whatever you say...” The guy beside him, his name was Murata, sighed for the umpteenth time. The other boy was tired of the antics but did not have any other option for whom to sit with. Neither of them was very popular. Like any other outcasts, they tended to gravitate towards each other. But unlike Zenitsu who at least did well in the music course, scarily well, he struggled with the homework from the previous week, trying to complete it before their next class. “She seems like a gold digger to me.”
They didn’t understand. Only Zenitsu did. Sure she had a bad dating history that became known throughout their university. There were even a few boyfriends who tried to report her to the police for variations of theft but to no avail. But he’d be the one to break through her rough exterior and free the nice and kind girl that he knew she was! So what if her tune sounded ever so slightly off, playing a jazz of deceit to anyone that would listen? She just had to meet the right guy. Zenitsu was convinced that was all it was... and obviously, he was that guy.
“Zenitsu, please.” Realizing he’d been uttering his prayers out loud, the blond turned to Murata with a disappointed look.
“Poor Murata. You’ll understand what it’s like to be in love in a few more years.”
“I’d like to keep a tight hold on the cash I earned every Friday night working at the local bar getting thrown up on, thank you very much. Not all of us are like you and can rake in bucks by playing Chopin’s Nocturne on a dollar store harmonica. Some of us around here are normal.” It was all the response he got other than the scratching of eraser on the sheet music. The coarse sound was beginning to get on his nerves, but all Zenitsu did was sigh dreamily, leaning forward on two palms.
“I think I’m going to ask her out.”
“You do that.” Murata sighed again. “You know my number if you end up stranded somewhere. We can get some fast food as you cry about the break-up.”
Really, did Murata have to be such a spoil-sport?! He would never end up married at this rate! The poor soul probably never even got kissed by a girl even once! Given, Zenitsu hasn’t either but it wasn’t for a lack of trying. Like Aiko, he just hasn’t met the right girl yet. They were destined to be and he just knew it.
It was with that mindset that he sidled up to her after the lecture, taking the steps down the university hall two at a time. Zenitsu ignored the way Professor Tengen had just left the room with a roll of his eyes and a flamboyant flick of his wrist. Contrary to what one may think with the blond’s status as the star student and him being the best teacher in the program, they didn’t get along at all. How could they when the guy had three wives and was such a pompous and moronic bastard?!
But enough about that. Ask Aiko out, he did. Peering up from her phone, the girl seemed to recognize him and much to his surprise, didn’t drop kick him for making a move on her like everyone thought she would. Instead, the girl swiped her screen again before shoving the article in his face.
Zenitsu blinked, a little slow on reading the words but instantly recognizing some of the characters on the screen. She spoke up for him. “There’s a signing this weekend for some of the best actors in the country, Agatsuma-kun. I thought everyone knew about it.”
He reeled back, trying to recover. He could do this. “Of course, Aiko-chan~! I knew about it.” He did not know about it. But he could easily spend two hours researching and memorizing the map of the venue just for her. “Anything that you’re passionate about has to be important to me as well.”
“Sure,” she scrolled down without looking twice at him. “Entry tickets are an arm and a leg to pay though. I’ll give you my phone number and send you a link to buy them. They’re online so you can just give me a picture of the ticket afterwards. We can meet at a coffee shop this Saturday at three o’clock before heading there. Don’t be late.”
Too preoccupied on actually getting her number (her number!), Zenitsu nearly faints in happiness when he sees the text on his own phone and almost forgets to the resist the urge to jump for joy out of the room. If Murata was with him, he’d point out the little hearts practically radiating off of him. But as it turns out, the boy in question was too busy sending Aiko a suspicious glance. True to form, she returns the eye contact and does nothing but wink back at him.
Murata sighed for a third time. Looks like he’d be picking Zenitsu up for fast food after all.
-U-U-U-U-U-
Treading down the snowy streets, Zenitsu cursed the cold and wrapped his yellow scarf tighter around his jaw. It was freezing, what the hell! But it’d all be worth it. The sight of Aiko’s smile would be enough to warm him up later. To distract himself, he quickly ran the names through his head again.
Shinobu Kocho, Giyu Tomioka, Mitsuri Kanroji, Kanao Tsuyuri, Tanjirou Kamado, Inosuke Hashibira, Muzan Kibutsuji...
Those were the biggest people who would be at the venue. If they were to get signatures from all of them, they would have to be strategic about their timing. One of them was the nation’s leading make-up artist and preferred blocks near the end of the day. Another would dedicate almost the entire event sitting there and greeting fans much past her timeslot and continue doing so outside of the venue just in case there were any last-minute meet-ups. Then there was the guy who refused to wear a shirt and only appeared in action films as a wild boar-man. Zenitsu sincerely hoped that part of the day wouldn’t be a pain to get through.
But who cares about that? He was going on a date with Aiko-chan!
Staring at the digital ticket again through his phone, Zenitsu practically skipped through the doors of the cafe almost a half-an-hour early. The jingle of the bell announced his presence. It was only the soothing melody of a flute and the sight of a middle-aged man on stage that had him realizing that this was a live music cafe. Kind and with good tastes, Aiko-chan and I really were meant to be together!
“What would she like? How about chocolate? That’s a good choice!” He contemplated, staring at the menu with a tune of joy playing both in the background and in his head.
“Then just pick it already!”
Recognizing the younger girl, Zenitsu screeches. The sound has the rest of the cafe turn their heads to them in panic. “AOI-CHAN...?! What a-are you doing here?!”
“I work here.” She huffed, making a gesture of her fingers pointing from her own eyes to his. “I’m watching you, pervert. If you make any moves on anyone, I’m kicking you out.” It was all she graced him with before swiping a hand beneath the counter to produce the chocolate fudge in a paper bag to hand to him. Like she commanded the entire empire, she made a single motion with her hand before all the glances being sent their way gradually returned to the stage.
A surprise encounter with Aoi was probably the only thing in the world that could dampen his mood. It wasn’t that she was a huge gossip or did it for fun, but she had a habit of sharing his numerous conquests with some of the girls at her local high school. It was more that she viewed those girls as her family and wanted to protect them from the bad and unreliable man lest he set his sights on them next. And come on! Zenitsu would never gun for under-aged girls! He wasn’t that stupid, but Aoi never believed him. Needless to say, Zenitsu struggled a bit more while paying her and stumbling to his seat.
Okay, now Zenitsu was sweating buckets. At least it was still two-forty-five! That was plenty of time to get himself together before his date showed up and come up with a scheme to somehow convince her that they should eat someplace else. Breathing through his nose, Zenitsu nearly jolted again when the room was encased in a quiet applause.
The man on stage bowed, flute still in hand.
In his haste, he hadn’t had the time to listen to the song at all. Sorry, mister! Luckily, the next volunteer was quick to make her presence known. It was a small girl this time, fixing her skirt before she plopped herself on the piano chair and started testing the keys. Then, as if a switch was turned on, she plowed the keys like they were her means to life. Zenitsu blinked, finding his shoulders relax and encounter forgotten. Music was an easy thing for him to get lost in; especially when his ears could pick up each individual string and how it resonated in the air, how each twist in the rhythm lifted the heartbeats of those around him.
She played several songs. It might’ve been over five. When she finally finished, the blond clapped alongside everyone else. When no one else stepped up to the stage, a low volume of chatter soon overtook the small restaurant. Slowly turning his head, he went to check the clock again-
Three-thirty...?!
“HUH, SINCE WHEN DID THAT HAPPEN?!” Zenitsu exclaimed. Not knowing the definition of the word quiet, Aoi shot him a glare from her post near the coffee machine. He was quick to slam both hands over his mouth and whisper. “Sorry!”
Quickly falling back in his seat, he snatches his phone out to send a message to Aiko, asking her if she’s okay. It’s possible that she got stuck in traffic. Maybe she had a disaster with a hair dryer and needed some more time to get ready. Maybe she even showed up and he didn’t notice her. It was definitely possible. He shot his head around to survey the tables around him. One old man was on a newspaper while sipping coffee. A group of teenage girls chatted around a table while sipping fruity drinks. Adjacent, a creepy figure in a hood sat slouched over a blueberry muffin. Across from him and on the other side, a couple and their toddler were sharing a sundae while wiping off any cream from the young boy’s face. But still, there was no sight of auburn hair or snow-like skin anywhere he looked.
Peering down at his watch, it ticked by innocently. Three-forty-one.
Checking his messages, his phone remained silent. That wasn’t right. Aiko must’ve had a good reason. So Zenitsu continued to wait. In absence of any performance to distract him, he tapped his nails on the table leg to Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata. The crinkling of the paper bag in his hands increased when the fingers of his free hand curled around the rim.
Finally, another twenty minutes later is when his phone rings. Zenitsu nearly drops it in excitement and answers without looking at the name. “Hello, Aiko-chan...?”
“Nope. It’s me.” The voice of his friend sounds on the other end. “So, how is your date goin-”
“Some other time, Murata! What if she calls me while you’re cutting off my line?!” This was common sense, and Zenitsu was shocked that the other didn’t think of it. This was why his friend was stuck home alone on the weekend while Zenitsu scored a date. “I IMPLORE YOU to text me next time.”
“Wait,” Murata evidently does not hang up, opting to continue instead much to Zenitsu’s dismay. “Did she not show up yet? Are you STILL waiting at the cafe? What the heck...?”
“Yes, I am. So what?” What was with that tone? It was seriously starting to piss Zenitsu off!
“Oh my god, Zenitsu...” The way his voice sounded so sympathetic didn’t serve to do anything but make him even more annoyed. “You bought the ticket online and sent it to her, right? She probably went ahead to the signing without you-”
“No, she didn’t.” The statement sounded strangely calm despite how ticked off he was. “Aiko-chan wouldn’t do that.”
“Uh, yeah. She totally would. Everyone knows that she isn’t the nicest of people-”
He was cut off again but damned if Zenitsu cared. “STOP TALKING ABOUT HER LIKE THAT! This is why she doesn’t trust anyone! It’s because no one believes in her. She’ll show up, you’ll see!” And just like that, Zenitsu hung up on him. Slamming the poor device on the counter, he huffed back into his seat as far as he could and buried his neck in the plush cushion. Angry, but with a smidge of blurriness in his eyes.
Did she really...?
Was Zenitsu not even good enough-
Of course not! That’s the type of thinking that he absolutely refused to engage in.
So he sat there and continue to wait he did. No matter how many times his phone vibrated with text messages or calls, he kept it firmly face-down on the wood if they weren’t from Aiko. At some point between mixing up sweet drinks and baking a fresh batch of doughnuts, Aoi sent him a perplexed look that he ignored. He might’ve blanked out at some point, lost in abstract thoughts as it began getting dark outside. It was winter, after all.
And when the cashier that he thought he feared stomped up to him, slamming a cup of hot chocolate on the table, the clock was nearing seven. “Oi, wake up!”
Zenitsu flinched up from the spot on the counter that he was promptly drooling on. Since when did he fall asleep? “Mm- huh?”
“It’s been over FOUR HOURS and you’ve been sulking in your corner of sadness and hogging this table the entire time.” Aoi didn’t hesitate to say it like it was. “Order something, call a friend to come join you, drown yourself in an essay the day before it’s due like everyone else, or go home, dammit!”
“Are,” the blond squeaked when the hot mug was shoved into his hands and nearly scalded him. He quickly placed it back on the glass with wet eyes. “Are you kicking me out?”
“Maybe I am. But I can’t actually do that.” She glared but didn’t say anything else, only marching back to her post. It took a moment for Zenitsu to realize that even the girl who hated him with all her guts was pushed to the brink of feeling sorry for him.
Aoi really was a good girl. He hoped she did well when she graduated high school.
The fact of the matter was that she was right. Zenitsu was, very easily and without hesitation, stood up.
But despite not eating anything since lunch, he wasn’t hungry. After the way he yelled at Murata earlier, calling him to beg for a late-night raid of the closest fast food joint wasn’t high up on his to-do list. The guy deserved a night to study without worrying about Zenitsu. He’d also completed all of his homework the night before. There was no reason for him to be here. That was the gist of it.
Feeling his vision blur again, Zenitsu made to get up from his seat while wiping his eyes quickly so no one would see-
-Only to freeze when he felt the weight of something- or someone plopping down across from him.
He looked up, horror flowing in his veins when he saw the same creepy hooded figure from before but very much blueberry muffin-less and seemingly staring back at him. Zenitsu, being Zenitsu, immediately jumped to the worst conclusion and nearly tumbled out of his seat. “O-OH MY GOD! It’s a serial killer! A stalker! I-I’m not a good victim, I SWEAR! No one will pay any ransom for me, Mister- OH, PEOPLE LIKE YOU NEVER LISTEN! THIS IS IT, I’M GONNA BE KILLED!”
“SHUT UP!” Aoi threw a bite-sized doughnut at him.
The figure in question could only gap when the confectionary hit Zenitsu square in the forehead. And he couldn’t help it. He swears he’s usually not this mean but nothing in the world could’ve stopped him from bursting out laughing.
Zenitsu stopped when the voice coming from the hood was surprisingly young. Not a child, but with a hint of tenor that someone his own age would have. He listened closer and- and suddenly, he felt assaulted. But in a good way; by a harp being played with so much gentle compassion that Zenitsu wanted to cry. Each heartbeat strung a new note to a song that he’d never heard before. He found himself wanting to write the tune down, if only to listen to this stranger for longer-
It isn’t until Zenitsu’s knuckles turn white from exertion that he realizes the only thing keeping him from falling to his knees was his tight grip on the chair.
How could someone sound so kind?
“I’m sorry.” The phrase manages to make it out past lingering chuckles. The apology is enough for Zenitsu to lower himself back in his seat, mesmerized by the melody that this person’s voice sang in his ear. “I promise that I’m not a kidnapper or serial killer of any kind. I don’t even have a car that I can stuff anyone into the trunk of.”
That’s when Zenitsu snaps out of his trance. Beautiful sound or no, he can’t stop himself from practically screeching out the next accusation. “H-How do you explain the clothes then?!” As if to make his point, the blond gestured to the baggy black drawstring sweater that came with a hood that nearly obscured the stranger’s entire face. “And the slouch in your shoulders?! That limp...?! You definitely look suspicious!”
“I... do?” This person seemed genuinely surprised at hearing this. Despite looks, the harmonious sound of innocent astonishment mixed with maturity radiated from him. Wait, did those two things even go together?! How?! Zenitsu had to know. “I was trying to be inconspicuous and normal.”
“NO, NO!” The blond crossed his arms, shaking his head furiously. “You definitely stand out! I don’t know how else to explain this to you! Not to mention that you sat down with me after waiting four hours in a cafe and with no warning whatsoever. That’s a special-guest pass straight to the police’s watch list!”
Staring at the blond, the man tilted his head. It took a light jingle of wood hitting skin for him to realize that the other was wearing earrings shaped into cards which he’d never seen anything like before. Unfortunately, the bundle of cloth that he could identify as a scarf from beneath obscured his view from seeing anything more. “You seemed sad, though. That’s why I came. What happened?”
Zenitsu recoiled. Oh. Oh, right. In the exasperation he felt at the situation, that tinge of black colouring his heart was so easily forgotten but still there. This wasn’t the first time that someone asked if he was all right out of the goodness of their poor Samaritan soul. Before long, his loud personality and penchant for bad luck would drive them away. Like always, maybe if he told this guy exactly what happened, it would be pitiful and awkward enough that it’ll get him to just leave. “I was stood up on a date.”
“O-Oh.” The man sounded like he wasn’t even able to comprehend the concept. It only served to make Zenitsu want to rip out his hair more. Was he really, truly the only one pathetic enough to have this happen to him?! “That’s why you were here waiting this entire time.”
“Yup. She barely knows me. It was our first one.” Could he just leave already? Everyone else did at this point, rolling their eyes and thinking it was a typical Saturday for Zenitsu to get brutally rejected just for trying.
“Four hours for someone you just met...?” The stranger gasped. “If it means anything, I think that’s really kind of you to wait here and believe in that person for so long.”
He sighed, clutching his head to block out all the sounds. Lies, lies, lies. That’s all his mind’s voice would ring back at him. The next words he spoke were sincere but tired. “Thanks. You’re a good guy. I can tell. But I know that I’m annoying and you want this to end as soon as possible. I feel better already, see? So I’m just going to head home and we can pretend this interaction never happened.”
He was planning to do just that. Not even bothering to snatch up any of his belongings other than his phone, he’d be damned if he kept the map of the event venue or the copy of the schedule with him, he made to stroll out of the cafe without another word.
Alas, it seemed everyone was against him tonight. He failed when a hand went to grab his sleeve before he could even make it halfway out of the vicinity. Turning back in irritation, Zenitsu stopped at the brown paper bag being offered to him. He took the forgotten chocolate fudge, still not very amused. By now, it must’ve melted and been misshapen by his constant fidgeting with the wrapping. “Thanks again-”
But the addressed continued anyway with a chord of indignation. It was like he didn’t know what giving up meant. “What makes you happy?” Wait... was he pouting?! Why was a guy making that kind of expression? Stop it! Don’t be cute annoying like that!
Zenitsu didn’t know whether to laugh at the expression or cry. Too shocked at the sudden parade of kindness and empathy blasting a symphony right at him, he could only answer honestly. “Playing music.”
“Great!” He could just picture the metaphorical puppy tail and ears perking up on the stranger. As if he solved all of the world’s problems, he gestured to where the stage was empty and still littered with a variety of instruments. “You could perform something for everyone. I bet you’re really good. Which instrument can you play? What songs? I hope you don’t have stage freight though. If you do, you don’t have to!”
Zenitsu had never really had his ear talked off before by someone else. It was usually the other way around. Was it weird to say that being on the receiving end for a change felt kind of nice? But, right. There was a question. He had to answer the question. Peering up at the well-worn piano and guitar, there was a litter of some rarer and more expensive instruments that he’d never expected to find here. He had to admit that it was impressive. He could play almost all of them to at least a junior level, so took a different approach. “What’s your favourite song?”
For all that was good in the world, the hooded man stopped his uttering to blink down at the blond in confusion. Curse him for being just slightly taller than him, by the way! The other seemed hesitant on voicing the name. But when he did, Zenitsu could tell that he genuinely loved it, probably more than the majority of the population had any right to love a song. “Kamado Tanjiro by Go Shiina.”
The name rang a bell, if only because Zenitsu had actually spent two hours researching him along with a group of other people because of his own idiocy. “A song named after an actor...? I’ve never heard of it. If you have it on your phone, I can listen.”
When the stranger handed him the device, Zenitsu plugged his earphones in and adjusted the volume before hitting play. It was a beautiful harmony of music. Lyrics of destiny and protecting someone close were almost secondary to the strength of the tune that the composer poured their passion over. Music wasn’t so much just a synchronization of notes but an expression of feeling. Whoever created this felt really strongly about Tanjirou Kamado. It might’ve been love- familial or romantic or platonic, but Zenitsu couldn’t pick up on which. That was the most important and hardest to capture. It would be difficult to replicate in any form without the original intent or band but, matching his breathing to the beat of it as he rewinded it for a third time, it wouldn’t be impossible.
The stranger (friend?) could only stand in stunned silence when Zenitsu ripped off the earphones to calmly hand the device back. His scent radiated a sharp-minded focus and strength that stopped the hooded figure from asking him what he was about to do. It was only when the blond was already on the stage to the silencing of the remaining crowd and plucking a violin from the hoard of instruments that he finally realized what was happening.
Sure enough, when strings touched, it was like a spell was being casted on Zenitsu’s fingers and everyone else were the victims. Similar to a witch with all the magic in the world, the high amplitude captured everyone’s attention immediately, silencing the last of the idle chatter into nothingness. Nothing but the drop in notes when the violin settled into a more peaceful serenade where missing lyrics should be.
Zenitsu may not have been able to discern whether the melody was singing romantic or platonic or familial love for Tanjirou Kamado, but with all of the passion he could put into the wood, he played all three so the sound resonated with his own acute hearing and soul.
By the time the next rise in volume hit, the stranger-slash-acquaintance of said witch wasn’t surprised when he could smell tears emerging from around the cafe. He would be the first to admit that one such pair of wet eyes was his own. But for the first in a long time, they weren’t tears of sadness or rage or anger. They were what happened when a stream overflowed after too much weight was added to it and the water had nowhere to go, the weight being the warmth of love that radiated from none other than the stranger he met less than an hour ago.
The feeling of fullness accompanied the tears, alongside a quickened beat of his heart as he picked up the scent of what he could only describe as beautiful. It- Zenitsu was beautiful and like nothing he’d ever experienced before. It was then that he noticed that the other’s golden hair shone like lightning against the lamp hanging above the stage. The boy’s features were soft if not sad, and skin a fair but healthy shade that gave him the urge to reach out and touch it. By the time the spell was undone, the last few notes of his song resonated, leaving the rest of the room paralyzed and stunned.
He may have just met someone really incredible. That’s what his heart was telling him.
“Not bad, you dumb pervert!” Aoi was the one who broke the tension first, surprised but smiling as she clapped her hands in applause. Everyone else was quick to follow. The center of attention in question blinked as if snapped out of a trance. When faced with the near standing ovation, the cutest flush of pink that the stranger had ever seen surfaced near his cheeks.
And that’s where he drew the line. A declaration of something that he couldn’t decipher echoed in his brain. Not wasting a second, he grabbed the blond’s wrist and practically hauled him out of the joint and away from the sights of the other restaurant patrons. Three street lamps later is when the person trailing behind him finally realizes what is happening enough to squeak out in protest.
“H-Hey...! Where are you taking me? You’re not ACTUALLY A KIDNAPPER, ARE YOU?!”
That’s enough to snap him out of it. He immediately lets go of the other's hand, a blush of embarrassment and mortification on what he was doing rising up in his ears. Zenitsu is quick to snatch his palm back in wariness, holding it against his beige and black jacket. All the hooded figure could do to explain himself was hang his head. “I’m sorry. I- I don’t know what came over me.” The next part, he spoke while trying his best to look him in the eye with sincerity. “It’s just that you’re really amazing.”
“A-Amazing?” Zenitsu chokes, opting to cover his ears. Anything to dull that damned gentle sound that made Zenitsu feel funny things! He’d never been called amazing by anyone but his music teachers before. The shock of it had his mouth running a mile a minute before he could stop it, spilling out secrets that no one he just met less than an hour ago should hear. “Please don’t lie! I wasn’t the one who wrote the song. Pl-Plus you’re right! I feel way, WAY better now! Whoever you saw up there is just what I like to pretend to be when I’m playing music, you know? Being someone who can reach people’s hearts with music makes me happier but I’m actually REALLY lame and everything!”
The other man frowned, a tinge of annoyance that he never felt before nicking at his toes. To his surprise, the slightly taller boy stepped forward under the streetlight, illuminating his face far more than the dim lamps at the cafe did. “What’s your name?”
Those were definitely hanafuda earrings he wore. They looked familiar but he couldn’t think of where he’d seen them before. “Zenitsu.”
“Zenitsu,” he repeated it as if testing the sound on his tongue. Then, he did the last thing that the addressed could’ve ever predicted. He lowered his hood the slightest until amber eyes- the same unique amber eyes that he saw just last night on a cover of a magazine- gazed at him tenderly. The rushing sound of honesty colours Zenitsu’s cheeks red and the image of just how beautiful the face that looked at him was sends a chill down his spine as the next phrase is uttered. “I’m Tanjirou Kamado, and I’d really like to go out with you in place of your date sometime.”
What-
The reality of what just transpired in the past few minutes- getting stood up, meeting one of the most famous actors in the entire country, playing his song for him with his entire soul invested in the role of declaring boundless and unconditional love- hit Zenitsu like a freight train.
“WHAT...?!”
-U-U-U-U-U-
Monday came a lot slower than Zenitsu thought it would.
He was early for class as always, looking to perch himself on the same seat where the same bustling noises of students mingling in the hallways reached his ears. The same old beady eyes of Professor Tengen munching on one of his wives’ homemade breakfasts scattered themselves on a computer screen as he tested out a PowerPoint. The flamboyant god of a teacher’s arm waved at him in the same slight greeting just like he did every same old day. Like always, Zenitsu doesn’t return the greeting with anything but a nod.
When he makes it to his seat, it’s not surprising when Murata is there first, following the same old schedule of getting there exactly six minutes before him. He perks up. “Zenitsu! Oh my gosh, I was worried-”
As if breaking up the mundane routine, Zenitsu doesn’t brush the poor guy off like he usually does. Instead, he drops a bagel and carton of coffee onto his friend’s desk. Upon closer inspection, it was the whole wheat variety that Murata thought no one knew he liked the best because no one ever paid attention to him. But as it turns out, Zenitsu did. He doesn’t touch it until the blond explains. “I know you were. Thanks for looking out for me and sorry for yelling at you, Murata.”
“Z-Zenitsu! Thank you!” He can practically see the stars gathering near the boy’s eyes before he goes to dig into his breakfast. His growling stomach that Zenitsu could hear all the way from outside the building finally ceased. “Are you sure that you’re okay though?” Considering Aiko’s bad history, Murata knew that his friend got off easy.
“I think I will be, strangely enough.”
While they waited for class to start, Zenitsu reluctantly took out his phone, laying it on the other side of his textbook and away from any prying eyes. He kept blanking out, expecting to wake up from some weird dream and find out that none of anything on Saturday actually happened. But lo and behold, every time he started up his phone, it proved to not be of the case.
4 new notifications from Tanjirou Kamado
Ignoring the newer messages that the other had sent since Zenitsu had retired for the night previously, he scrolled up near the beginning of their chat history. A deep rooted feeling of surrealism hit him when he realized that it took him a good minute to actually traverse all of their exchanged texts from simply the last day. Did they really text each other that much...?!
I still don’t believe it.
What don’t you believe?
You can’t be Tanjirou Kamado! You were supposed to be at a signing event!
I saw this on a show the other day. You’re definitely a catfish!
( ᗒᗩᗕ ) ՞ Zenitsu, that doesn’t make any sense
I KN
I KNOW IT DOESN’T! SHUT UP FOR A SECOND!
Is there any way I could prove to you that I am Tanjirou? ˚ ‧ º·(˚ ˃̣̣̥᷄ ⌓ ˂̣̣̥᷅ ) ‧ º·˚
Send me a photo of you
With Inosuke Hashibira’s boar mask hanging upside-down from your neck
While you’re drinking milk from a paper cup
With the word ‘booty’ written in pink marker on it
Image sent.
Oh mY GOD
Wait, did Zenitsu even like guys? The warning bell rings above as students begin truly filing into the room for the last five minutes before lectures start. However, he finds that he doesn’t even react to the chaos around him, too preoccupied as he swipes his finger again. This time, he stops at a random message from later on.
I really do want to go out with you, Zenitsu (° ◡ ° ♡ ).: 。
I’m not saying this out of pity or as a one-time thing
Not unless you want it to be a one-time thing
Zenitsu?
( ´•̥̥̥ω•̥̥̥` ) Am I bothering you?
I’m sorry, I’ll stop
We can talk about something else and just be friends
That’s okay too
Don’t
Don’t stop
Just
Why do you want to date me?
I think I saw a part of your heart when you played that song for me
It was like I got a small taste of what it would be like
To be loved by you
And I want to get to know you better
I’m not good at explaining
Tanjirou
I
?
I want to get to know you better too
But did it really matter? Each pixel of text Tanjirou sent him resonated with Zenitsu and strung the strings of his heart further than any words anyone else he’d tried to date ever did. Finally scrolling all the way down to the new messages, Zenitsu didn’t even bother to try to hide the snort of laughter that escaped him as he typed up a reply.
I just woke up to see a spider on my ceiling
Do you ever think about what they’re feeling when trapped up there? (๑ १д१)
My partner and roommate for our next show about demons tired to squash it
So I smacked him on the head and brought the poor thing outside
I’m sure the spider is doing its best to survive
The response from the other is almost immediate, so quick that it surprises him.
:D
I knew you’d understand, Zenitsu!
They’re still creepy as hell though
( ゚ Д ゚ /)/
The only thing that stops the blond from typing up another message is the distinct figure of Aiko, with her auburn hair and perfect figure, marching away from her usual seat and further up the steps to where Murata and Zenitsu were near the back. Zenitsu is quick to shut off his phone and stuff it in his pocket right around the time his black-haired friend tugs on his sleeve with a scared whisper. “I forgot to tell you, Zenitsu. Apparently Aiko’s favourite actor ended up cancelling on the signing event due to a dispute with Muzan Kibutsuji’s agent. Now she’ll do just about anything to get her way and meet him.”
“Huh...” Zenitsu spoke this as if surprised but it came out like he was commenting on the lunch menu. The irony of the situation hit him then but Zenitsu felt like he was out of screams of blatant blasphemy over what the hell was happening to him. Before Murata can ask what on earth that response meant, Aiko is rounding the corner and by their desk like a silent viper.
“Oh, Agatsuma-kun,” she quietly sighs, and her voice is suddenly wet with emotion. As if she were about to cry, she’s a step away from flinging herself at him in utter regret. “I’m so sorry! I couldn’t make it because my mother ended up in the hospital.”
Lies, but Zenitsu gives her comfort anyway. “Aiko-chan, that’s so horrible! I hope your mom is okay.”
“I want to make it up to you.” She shakes her head. “I know it won’t completely erase what I’ve done, but there’s a public ticketed filming for Kimetsu no Yaiba next weekend. Would you like to go?”
From his peripheral, Zenitsu can hear Murata’s pained prayers hidden beneath a rough cough. It sounded like ‘here we go again’ but sputtered out by a dying fifty-year-old man stuck in a drain pipe. Aiko herself has the buzz of a train engine behind her face. Those pretty blues would’ve had Zenitsu drooling in any other instance. Anyone with eyes could tell how much of a beauty she was. Any peasant was lucky enough to witness her skin as white as snow. To break through her rough exterior and free the nice and kind girl that he knew she was, though?
Maybe he wasn’t the guy for her.
“No.” Zenitsu says, much to the collective shock of everyone else in the entire class. He’s sure even Professor Tengen drops his ruler. “Sorry, Aiko-chan. I have a date with someone else that day.”