Chapter Text
Today, the flowers are particularly repulsive for Zenitsu.
The same shade as his hair.
Soft, silky yellow surface dotted with darker shade of itself. The broken lines going from one tip to the other. Some of them possess a pure shade of lighter gold that makes the red of his blood much starker.
Couldn’t the world at least give me something nicer to look at?
The wisteria mansion he and the Kamado siblings are currently occupying rang with silence only disturbed by the periodic thuds of the bamboo dripping with water on the pond by the engawa. Crouched amidst the bright sun beating down the back garden, donned in a simple cream yukata, Zenitsu blearily stared at the palms of his hands. Having just experienced another bout of wracking coughs, he can’t help but wonder which would kill him faster; this disease or his incompetence?
The memory of the fight the night before echoes clearly within his mind.
A pack of demons has been their enemy. A pack of newborn demons. A family. The mother had eaten her third and youngest child, gorging herself with guts and blood of the kid who must have not even experienced his fifth summer. The father stomped on the gore of what used to be his eldest, the young man struggling and clawing at the legs that broke through his skull at the third stomp that rang clear through the air of the still forest. It was what attracted Zenitsu’s attention. What confirmed Tanjirou’s fears.
As Tanjirou kicked the door open of the shabby hut and promptly stumbled back, Zenitsu couldn’t help but think of the wooden box they left behind in an alcove of trees, afraid that the nearing dawn will get to it.
Drawing his sword and simultaneously pushing the Kamado away from the swipe of a female demon that rushed at his entrance (who must’ve been at her mere teenage years, whom they later learned to be the second child), he met the vicious hiss of the girl with the flat of his sword, quickly pushing her back into the house.
Using the brief reprieve to take in the situation – all new demons, Kibutsuji Muzan..! – he immediately locked his gaze on the demoness now advancing towards the older woman donned in what could’ve once been a lovely pink kimono. Settling into the sole stance he could utilize, a deafening silence rang in his head for the split second it took to behead his target, the move staining his haori and attracting the attention of the three remaining demons all at once. Before the stronger male demon could even try to claw at Zenitsu, his head was already falling onto the blood-stained tatami, the slash of Tanjirou’s first form merciless in its path.
Directing his focus onto the sole demon who has consumed human flesh, confident that Tanjirou would take care of the remaining one, Zenitsu grit his teeth at the impact of the woman’s claw clashing against his sword brought. Growls and the sound of dripping liquid – drool, blood – loud against his hearing, he took a swipe at the crazed woman, the tip of his sword cutting her chest open. The attack was met with a loud cry accompanied with spittle as the demon fell back. He moved to behead her, almost faltering as he stepped onto the remains of the child, but his strike remained steady, meeting the vulnerable neck of the woman, cutting through the flesh and bones.
The sudden silence the befall the hut as the corpses faded into nothing told Zenitsu that Tanjirou was also done with his fight. Turning to look at the Kamado, the thunder breath user felt his heart constrict and his lungs stutter at the look on the other’s face.
He should never look like that.
Kamado Tanjirou’s distressed heartbeat filled his senses. Every beat pulsing through his body, crushing his own heart. Every beat sending another rush of pain at his aching lungs.
They buried whatever remained of the child and burned the hut.
The suggestion to take a break at the nearest wisteria house was met with a mere sorrowful nod.
Looking up from his bloodied palms, Zenitsu stepped towards the pond, wanting to wash off the evidence of his recent attack. Crouching down by the waters, he weaves his hands through its coolness. Agatsuma Zenitsu stares into the koi fishes swimming around the water, and then thinks of last night’s expression. He compares it to the usual smiles and grins. To the usual tunes of kindness and warmth. Zenitsu finds himself disgusted.
He failed again. He can’t even protect the sole thing that matters to him. What a joke.
“I’m stupid…” His voice was barely heard over the slight breezed blowing through the area.
“Tanjirou.” Murmuring the Kamado’s name brought a pang of insecurity through his being. The ache flowing in that familiar way he’s so accustomed to.
“What are you a looking at, Zenitsu?” The voice that came from his direct right spooked enough into letting out an embarrassing squeal of surprise. Rapidly turning his head to look at the stupid (endearing) expression on Tanjirou’s face, he almost falls into the pond if not for the hand he stuck out to hold his weight, the momentum making rocks dig into his palms and staining it in blood.
“I’m sorry! Are you alright? I smelled something and came to see but I swear I didn’t mea-“ Tanjirou’s babbling was cut off as he noticed the injury, his hands moving to cradle it.
“How could I be okay?!” Zenitsu was almost stunned at the worry he saw shining through those burgundy eyes before he got hold of himself. Don’t cling to false hope, you unworthy piece of … !
“I wasn’t even injured last night and now I’m bleeding! Bleeding, Tanjirou! Now my hands will be all faulty and I won’t be able to hold my sword and then I’ll one hundred percent die next miss-“ The sound of laughter interrupted his tirade, dazzling him for a brief moment at one of his favorite sounds. “What’s so funny, huh?!”
“No, no. I’m just thinking.” The Kamado stops his laughing to lock his eyes with Zenitsu’s.
Oh.
“Zenitsu never fails to amuse me.” And then he shifted his gaze back into the injured hand he’s still holding onto. “But for now, let’s get you treated. Really, you’re a bit of a hazard, aren’t you?” He moved to tugged the blonde back into the engawa.
Tanjirou’s eyes are warm again.
And then.
This expression is a new one.
It might just be his favorite so far.
Alstroemeria.
It almost mocks him in its likeness to himself.
Devotion floods his veins as his gaze locks onto their connected hands.