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“I’m gonna send you to hell!”
Tanjiro bolted awake from a dead sleep, his mind immediately recognizing the implications of those six words. Inosuke is having a nightmare again. He proceeded gently, turning over in their shared bed to lightly prompt Inosuke awake. He was thrashing, beads of sweat forming on his brow as, even in sleep, his face contorted in anger.
This wasn’t the first time Inosuke had this nightmare. It was quite frequent that his mind reeled back to his fight with Douma, Upper Moon Two. The fight had been brutal -- not only physically, but mentally, too, as Inosuke had to learn of his mother’s unfortunate passing. It made Tanjiro’s stomach churn, with memories of his own mother meeting an untimely death at the hands of a demon.
He spoke first. “Inosuke,” He cooed softly, repeatedly until some of the brash man’s stirring subsided. “Hey, Inosuke, it’s okay.” He reassured, placing a soothing hand atop sweaty locks and smoothing them back.
Green eyes came into view, and with them a confused anger. “Where is he?!” Inosuke accused, jolting forward to bring himself upright. Tanjiro placed a hand against his warm chest, afraid Inosuke might take off if he didn’t hold him back.
“It was just a dream, Inosuke. He’s gone, don’t worry.” Inosuke still wasn’t fully convinced, anger and frustration evident in his eyes. But Tanjiro saw it. Beneath the heated rage there was pain, there was hurt, and it showed in the way Inosuke’s lip quivered.
Tanjiro placed a hand on Inosuke’s cheek, and he rested his weight against the familiar touch. Inosuke wasn’t particularly fond of displaying any emotion that may deem him weak, but at times like this, his brash exterior cracked. Fragments of the sorrow and hurt he carried within him shone through, like peeking through a keyhole only to see something that wasn’t supposed to be seen.
“Tanjiro,” Inosuke whispered, barely loud enough for the redhead to hear. “I miss her.” And Tanjiro’s heart broke, an ache in his chest so deep he felt like hurling. He knew the feeling too well, Inosuke’s words touching Tanjiro in a space that was meant to be left alone.
“I know, I’m sorry.” It was all Tanjiro could muster from his tightening throat, his eyes burning with brimming tears. But right now, he needed to be strong. He needed to comfort Inosuke to the best of his broken ability, and so he sucked in a deep breath, letting it out through his nose.
Returning his head to the pillows beneath him, Tanjiro beckoned Inosuke closer. “Come here,” and Inosuke obliged, following Tanjiro’s guiding hands. Resting his blue locks in the crook of Tanjiro’s neck and lazily wrapping his arms around the redhead’s middle. Tanjiro hummed, out of tune and shaky, but it comforted Inosuke nonetheless. And then he felt it. The warm wetness that began to flow against his tan skin. Pulling Inosuke into him tighter, Tanjiro allowed his own tears to flow, dropping into Inosuke’s damp hair. He rocked them lightly, continuing his broken hums, carrying a song that sang:
I miss her, too.