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“Looks like you could use a little help, hm?”
Tanjiro startled, then turned toward the sound of Genya’s voice with a rueful smile. “Just a little,” he agreed, holding out the hairbrush he’d been attempting to use one-handed. “Turns out detangling knots is a lot harder with one hand than two.”
Technically, he still had his left hand, but considering he could barely lift it and felt nothing below the elbow, he functionally only had his right hand. And he’d been learning to deal with that imbalance ever since Muzan’s defeat, but it made it a lot harder to do things like work through tangles without painfully yanking his hair every which way. It didn’t help that his hair was long enough to reach his shoulders: that was a lot to disentangle.
Genya huffed in amusement. “No kidding. You could’ve asked before going to all that trouble.”
“...How long were you watching me before you said anything?” His tone implied he’d been standing there for long enough to see Tanjiro nearly pulling out half his scalp with the brush.
“Long enough to know you could’ve called me or Nezuko,” Genya frowned. Still, he let out a sigh, coming closer and accepting the brush before kneeling on the floor behind Tanjiro. “And probably should’ve.”
“You were busy - I didn’t want to bother you.”
Tanjiro didn’t need to see Genya’s face to be able to picture the expression of utter disbelief he no doubt wore. “I was reading the latest version of Zenitsu’s book because he wouldn’t stop begging me to look it over. Do you really think I’d rather do that than help you?”
Tanjiro sighed, “Well, when you put it like that…”
“Exactly.”
In spite of his words, though, Genya began separating sections of Tanjiro’s hair and running the brush through it bit by bit, starting from the bottom of the strands and working his way up. To Tanjiro’s relief, he was extra careful not to pull too hard, thereby sparing Tanjiro’s already-abused scalp from suffering any more.
As he worked, Tanjiro let himself slump further and further, until Genya grunted and nudged him. “Can’t work with you leaning back like that.”
Tanjiro let out an exaggerated sigh even as he sat up properly again.
“Hey - you’re the one who needs help with this,” Genya said, though his tone was teasing rather than frustrated. Tanjiro turned, opening his mouth and preparing to retort, when Genya pressed a finger to his lips, effectively silencing him. “If you’re about to say you could’ve managed by yourself, Tanjiro, I swear—”
“I didn’t say anything!” he protested.
“You were thinking it.”
Tanjiro huffed but turned back, allowing Genya to continue his task. The minutes passed in comfortable silence until Genya finished, and then he set the brush aside but continued to gently comb his fingers through Tanjiro’s hair. “Your hair’s gettin’ long,” he observed, absentmindedly braiding and unbraiding small sections. “You thinking of cutting it?”
“I don’t know,” Tanjiro shrugged. “It’s more work this way, I guess, but I don’t mind it.”
“Are you looking to make this a regular occurrence?” he wondered, slightly incredulous. “Not fifteen minutes ago I heard you scolding an actual comb for not cooperating with you.”
“Well, not that part,” Tanjiro conceded. He let himself slouch backward again, so that he was leaning against Genya back-to-front.
Automatically, Genya shifted so he was sitting cross-legged instead of kneeling and wrapped his arms around Tanjiro to pull him closer. “Oh?” he murmured, directly into Tanjiro’s ear. “This part, then?”
Tanjiro nodded. “Exactly.”
Genya laughed softly. “Well, anyway, it’s your choice. But I will say that if it means getting out of reading Zenitsu’s literary…accomplishments, I’ll help you anytime.”
“Noted.”