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Something was wrong with Genya.
Sanemi just wasn’t quite sure what. He’d seemed… sluggish lately. Out of it. Even the lightest manual labor left him winded. But whenever he was pressed about it, he acted as if he had no idea what Sanemi was talking about.
He had noticed it about a week and a half ago. When old man Isao offered them the unsellable produce from his farm. The nearly spoiled fruits, vegetables, and grains were placed in Sanemi’s half-emptied cart while the real prize, a half-rotten watermelon, had been placed in a sack slung over Genya’s shoulders. Sanemi had offered to carry it for him, but Genya had insisted he would be helpful.
The watermelon had been small and Sanemi just couldn’t say no to Genya’s earnest plea to help. So, Sanemi had acquiesced and let his little brother carry the melon.
Not even halfway through their journey, Genya looked exhausted. Gasping for air and sweating profusely despite the cool winter air. Sanemi at the time had chalked it up to him already being tired from a long day of work. He was just five years old, after all. Now, looking back he should have taken it as the first sign something was wrong.
As the days went by, Genya seemed to get tired faster but would insist on helping Sanemi out anyway. Every day got colder and colder, yet Genya still stubbornly persisted.
The cough had come next. A wretched, wet-sounding cough that came from deep within his lungs. When Sanemi had first heard it, he had immediately relegated Genya to bed rest. Their younger siblings needed someone at home anyway. With their mother far along in her pregnancy and their father a useless lout, it was left to Sanemi and Genya to step up and take care of their younger siblings.
Yet Genya just refused to stay put. There wasn’t much Sanemi could do to keep him in bed. He couldn’t hover over Genya’s futon all day, as much as he wanted to. His siblings relied on him and their mother to bring home money to put food on the table. Genya worked tirelessly around the house, taking care of the younger siblings and cleaning around the house.
Sanemi usually comes home to find Genya beating the dust out of the rugs or fetching more water from the nearby well, always with one of their younger siblings clinging to his leg or strapped to his back. At such a young age, he was already more like a parent than their own father, taking on the emotional burden of caring for the little ones when their mother couldn’t. Not that they blamed her, of course. It was only because their father was a good-for-nothing that she had to work so much. She barely even slept, moving from one menial job to the next and collapsing into bed at odd times of the day.
It happens while Genya is hanging the laundry out back. Sanemi had one of his rare days where he finished up his work early and was able to come home at a decent hour. He immediately looks to find Genya after finding his futon empty.
Hiroshi runs up to him, frantic and in tears. He tugs on Sanemi’s sleeve and pulls him toward the back of the house.
“Genya fell down! A-and he’s not getting up!”
Sanemi feels his breath catch in his throat as he rushes to the back of the house, finding Genya collapsed in the dirt with Teiko hovering over him. Sumi and Shuuya wail with distress, too young and confused to understand what was going on.
Teiko spots Sanemi hovering in the open doorway and pleads with her eyes for help. Sanemi hurries over, dropping to his knees beside Genya, uncaring of the dirt that stains his white haori. Genya looks at him blearily, eyes unfocused and gasping for breath.
“Nemi…?”
“What the hell, Genya!” Teiko gasps and covers her ears at Sanemi’s language. “You were supposed to be resting! What happened?”
Genya struggles to catch his breath as Sanemi picks him up, carrying him back into the house in a princess carry.
“I just,” he wheezes, “I jus’ got a lil dizzy. ‘m sorry…”
Yet Sanemi couldn’t help but feel angry. But he knows yelling won’t help Genya right now, so he suppresses the feeling as the pit in his tummy grows.
“I know you are.”
He lays Genya back into the futon and covers him up. He stays there until Genya falls into an unrestful sleep. Teiko and Hiroshi creep over, having corralled Shuuya and Sumi inside. Sanemi stands and dusts off his pants.
“I’m gonna go see if I can do some more jobs for old man Isao.”
They may need to scrounge up the money for a doctor, after all.
Sanemi cautiously crept into their house, checking around the corner and spotting his father passed out in the middle of the floor. It seems he had gone on one of his drinking benders again, likely gambling away the money they had worked so hard to gather for the month.
“So much for taking Genya to a doctor,” Sanemi thought bitterly. But it was okay. Genya was so young but he was also strong. Sanemi had the childish faith that he would pull through this. Genya had always had an iron-clad immune system, after all. He had witnessed Genya eat the vilest of concoctions of rotten food and inedible objects, much to his horror, with hardly any ill effect.
He tiptoed past the sleeping monster, hurrying to the room shared by him and all his siblings so he could tuck Genya in. This was just one of the ways Genya allowed himself to be babied, letting their mother or Sanemi tuck him into bed. He always insisted on tucking in all their little siblings first, telling them all stories or even singing to them.
Tonight, though, Genya had neither the energy to tuck their siblings in, nor to wait on Sanemi as he usually did. Instead, he lay sprawled across the top of his futon, sleeping restlessly. Sanemi tiptoes closer, wanting to check on him anyway.
Genya’s chest heaves with shallow, labored breaths. Sanemi could see his ribs with every inhale. Sanemi leans down to feel over his forehead, checking him for fever. This close, he can hear the soft whistling sound his rattling chest made with each exhale and see the sheen of sweat that coated his forehead. He stirs as Sanemi places a hand on his forehead, groggily murmuring his name. Sanemi pets his hair soothingly.
“Hey, Gen. Didn’t mean to wake you up… How’re you feeling?”
“Hmng,” he suppresses a cough. “’m fine…”
Rather than arguing, Sanemi just nods. “’course you are. You’re strong.”
Rather than respond, Genya let out a panicked wheeze before devolving into a horrible coughing fit. Sanemi dropped to his knees and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder as Genya’s body was racked with coughs. He heaved and retched and Sanemi dragged over the bucket, quickly shoving it into Genya’s hands just in time. He hears an awful gurgling in Genya’s chest as he coughs up something wet. The substance is bright red and frothy and coats the bottom of the bucket in a horrific splatter.
Sanemi’s heart stopped in his chest. Blood. His baby brother was coughing up blood.
“M-MA!!” He ran to find their mother, skidding into her bedroom where she was resting. “MA! Ma, wake up!” She groggily opened her eyes as Sanemi shook her awake
“S’nemi? Wha’s wrong?”
He thanked whatever God was still listening that their father had passed out. “It’s Genya! H-he’s coughing blood! Momma, Genya’s bleeding!”
“Sanemi, listen to me. Check the floorboards in the kitchen-”
“What?”
“Listen! There’s a loose board opposite the hearth. Pry it up and bring me the pouch while I get your brother ready for the doctor.”
Sanemi doesn’t ask any other questions no matter how much he wants to, dutifully running for the kitchen to do as she asked. He feels around until one of the boards gives under his pulling. He glances wearily back at their father as he reaches down. Beneath, he finds a pouch full of coins and a couple of bills.
Money?
But there was no time to process that, instead, he turned and ran the pouch over to his mother, who had wrapped Genya into a makeshift sling and strapped him to her front. She covered herself with her ratty old cloak, tucking Genya under it to keep him extra warm. She takes the bag from him and quickly hides it under her cloak, terrified that Kyogo would wake and snatch it away.
“Sanemi, I need you to watch the kids while I’m gone, do you understand?”
“I-I want to come with you!”
She knelt and placed a hand on his shoulder, the other hand steadying Genya.
“Your other siblings need you right now.”
“So does Genya!”
“I need you, right now.”
Sanemi anxiously looked to Genya, who wheezed helplessly in their mother’s arms. There was no time to argue, every second they wasted was another that Genya suffered. So, Sanemi swallowed his misgivings and nodded. Anything for Genya.
Shizu smiled and affectionately pet his hair, before standing and rushing out the door.
Sanemi nervously paced the room. They’d been gone for hours now. He had managed to wrangle the twins into bed and had nothing left to do but worry. The longer he waited the more his mind raced. What if they had been too late? What if the doctor says there is nothing they can do? What if Genya died before his mom even got there?!
Tears pricked his eyes at the thought of his precious baby brother never coming home. He should have noticed the signs sooner. Should have forced Genya to rest. But Genya had looked at him with those pleading eyes full of determination and Sanemi could deny him nothing.
His spiraling thoughts are interrupted by the sound of the door sliding open.
“I’m home,” his mother’s exhausted voice rings out.
Sanemi runs to her, sagging in relief at the sight of Genya lying in her arms, asleep but still breathing.
“Is he gonna be okay…?”
His mother’s face looks grim as she goes to kneel before him once again.
“I’ll be honest with you, Sanemi. Genya is really sick. He has an infection called ‘pneumonia’ and the swelling caused some blood to leak into his lungs. The doctor gave us some medicine but Genya is still going to need lots of rest and care, okay?”
Sanemi’s lip quivered for a moment before he nodded with determination. She often forgot her oldest son was just an eleven-year-old boy. He was so mature for his age, always stepping up to take care of his younger siblings and help her earn money. She could tell that he would be an excellent man someday.
With that, she stood and pulled over the good futon, the one they usually let the youngest sleep in, and tucked Genya in. Sanemi was by his side in an instant, mopping up sweat to try and keep Genya clean and dry. Shizu smiles fondly at them and goes to try to scrounge up something warm for Genya to try to keep down.
Normally, Sanemi would help her with dinner while Genya corralled the kids or vice versa. Tonight, though, Sanemi stays by Genya’s side, an unmoving guardian. Shizu whips up a simple miso broth, having been warned by the doctor that Genya likely wouldn’t be able to keep down anything heavier. She brings the small bowl over and kneels by Genya’s side, helping him slowly sit up. She holds the bowl to his mouth and tips it back ever so slightly, letting him drink at his own pace.
He turns his head away, stomach rolling in protest after only a few sips. Shizu attempts to cajole him into drinking just a little bit more.
“Baby, please. You need this to keep your strength up.”
He shakes his head stubbornly, gagging at just the thought of more food. Shizu relents and sets the bowl to the side with a sigh. As much as it pained her to waste any food, perhaps she could reheat it later for him to drink.
In the other room, the sleeping monster finally stirs.
“Shizu! Shizuuu! Where tha hell are you?!”
Shizu tenses. “Stay here.”
“But-!”
Before Sanemi can say another word, she stands and exits the room. There was the sound of a loud crack and a cut-off scream, but all Sanemi could do was hold Genya tighter, scared that Kyogo would hurt him while he was already vulnerable. They both know what would happen next.
“Nemi…? W-will you stay with me until I wake up?”
The “if I wake up” was left unsaid, but hung heavy in the air between them.
“I promise.”
They huddle close together, waiting for the awful noises from the other room to stop. They eventually fade, punctuated by the sound of a slamming shoji door and the soft sobs of their mother. Eventually, even that fades as she limps back to her room.
It’s touch and go for a while. Genya fades in and out of consciousness, shivering and sweating profusely. He looks right past Sanemi as if he can’t see him seated just inches from where he lies and calls for him. Desperate calls of “Nemi! Nemi, don’t go!” Sanemi clutches his hand and promises to never leave him. He means it with all his heart. He can’t imagine ever abandoning his kid brother, no matter the circumstance.
Halfway through the night, Genya rears up suddenly, jolting Sanemi from his half-sleeping state. He hears gagging and scrambles for the bucket, but is too late. Genya vomits up what little he ate, miso mixed with bile staining his thin clothing. He whimpers miserably and Sanemi’s heart aches for him.
He peeks into the living room, sighing in relief when he finds it empty. He lights the hearth in the kitchen and fetches some water to heat. He goes and scoops Genya into his arms, uncaring of the mess. Thankfully, none of it had gotten onto the futon, so it was still good to use once Genya was cleaned up. Genya leans against him, limp and exhausted. It was up to Sanemi to undress and wash him, mopping up the mess with their cleanest rag.
Once clean, he dresses Genya in some of Sanemi’s softest, hand-me-down clothes. He tucks Genya back into bed, worries growing as Genya barely reacts. His glazed-over eyes roll around aimlessly in his head as if he was unconscious with his eyes open. He brushes his hand over his forehead, brushing his hair from where it clung to his sweaty forehead. Genya wheezes, lips pale and blue around the edges.
There, in the loneliness of night, Sanemi breaks down. He cries for their mother, he cries for Genya, and he cries for himself.
“Please, God. Don’t take my baby brother away. We need him, mama needs him, the babies need him, I need him.”
He cries himself to sleep that night, holding tight to Genya’s cold hands.
He wakes with Genya wrapped in his arms, still wheezing, but breathing. The white-haired boy feels that he could cry once again, this time from relief. He pulls Genya close, buries his face in his hair, and ignores the scent of sickness. He’d made it through the night.
Their mother comes in soon to check on them, kneeling by their side and feeling over Genya’s forehead. She strokes Sanemi’s hair as well, softly praising him for being such a good brother. But Sanemi doesn’t feel like a good brother. He should have noticed something was wrong sooner. He had noticed, but he’d been too little, too late.
Shizu runs to reheat the miso soup from last night, hoping Genya will be able to eat and hopefully keep down food. Sanemi sighs in relief as Genya manages to drink a little more than the previous night before he turns his head away.
Their mother administers his medicine before she leaves for work. She had explained to the fearful children that they would need to cover their mouths and noses when taking care of Genya because he had a type of pneumonia called “bacterial.” Spending so long working in the cold had weakened his immune system and made him susceptible to this bacterium, especially since he was so young. Now, his lungs were filled with fluids like pus, mucous, and blood (this was met by a very disgusted Teiko, who had scrunched her nose at the very mention of mucous and pus) that made it hard for him to breathe.
For the first time since Sanemi learned how to walk and work, Sanemi takes a day off, opting to stay and care for Genya and their other siblings around the clock. Their mother shows him how to give Genya his medicine, an antibacterial, before she leaves for work. Genya sleeps for hours on end while Sanemi alternates between teaching his younger siblings to read and count and tending to Genya, switching out his cooling rag and mopping up sweat. Thankfully, Genya can keep down what little food and water is given to him.
The few times he wakes up, he’s delirious. Mumbling nonsense as he struggles to get out of bed. He pleads desperately for their father to stop hurting him, to stop hurting their mother and Sanemi, and his heart breaks. Even at rest, Genya couldn’t escape their hardships.
To Sanemi’s immense relief, the medicine seems to be doing its job. Genya’s fever starts to go down a few hours after each dose of his medicine and his eyes become less unfocused. That night, he’s able to finish his bowl of broth before curling back up in bed, shivering himself to sleep again. Sanemi sleeps by his side again that night, uncaring that he could get sick himself. He deserved it, for letting poor Genya overwork himself to sickness.
He had just been so relieved to have help. Genya was different than the rest of his siblings. He had stepped up like Sanemi to care for the others. He was Sanemi’s first baby brother, the person he could confide in first because he understood.
Genya manages to sleep through the night without incident and the next morning he seems much more alert. While his fever goes down, his breathing doesn’t seem to get much easier. He’s wracked with chills and wears himself out just getting up to use the restroom on his own. But eventually, even that begins to get better as well. It seemed, at the time, that they had gotten through the worst of it. And for the first time since Genya collapsed, Sanemi feels like he can breath.
Sanemi marched down the halls of the Butterfly mansion. He was no longer the same boy as all those years ago, yet his heart raced all the same. Shinobu had contacted him, sending a letter by crow to let him know that Genya had fallen ill.
He wasn’t stupid. He knew the reason Genya couldn’t use total concentration breathing. His lungs simply could not handle it, weakened from the affliction that had almost claimed his life. The doctor had called his condition asthma. In addition to Genya’s recurring asthma attacks, he was also extremely prone to lung infections like pneumonia.
He just barely resists the urge to slam open the door, knowing he’d be in deep shit with Shinobu if he disturbed her patients. His eyes are immediately drawn to Genya, asleep in his cot. He’s flushed with fever; breath whistling passed his too-pale lips. It's all too similar.
Lying in that cot, all Sanemi can see is his baby brother, five years old, struggling to breathe because his big brother wasn’t able to properly protect him. Not this time. Sanemi would protect Genya from himself, from the demons, and from the world. He’d do anything.
He brushes Genya’s hair back from where it sticks to his forehead, taking one last look at his sickly brother. Then, he turns his back and leaves. He had seen all he needed to reaffirm his beliefs. Genya was not meant to be a demon slayer.