I wanted to go on this date, but if it so happens that you end up going, you better enjoy it!
"This is nice, it's my first time here," Sabito says, tucking a strand of his peach hair behind his ear. "Do you come here often, Giyu?"
Tomioka just waves his hand and face hurriedly in denial to reply "No, never, it's too expensive!".
The date is not going very well.
The first thing they did, which Giyu was thankful for, was to have breakfast in the Art Center's restaurant. The place was nice; a large glass balcony that curved into a circular shape, filled with personal tables and tables for two people or more. Some are occupied with more customers besides themselves.
Light streams directly into the entire room through the windows of the building and the atmosphere had a perpetual aroma of apricots and coffee.
Sabito did most of the talking of the two during the meal. Tomioka, though he has never been a talkative person, was too embarrassed and awkward to say a word or respond appropriately. His face had been painted a slight shade of red all that time and his hands had not stopped being sweaty.
Giyu tried to concentrate solely on swallowing the food and ignoring the nervous knot in his stomach.
Maybe it had to do with the fact that this is different from all the previous times the two of them have gone out together. They're having a date . Something that completely changes everything and can have many, many outcomes.
Tomioka has known Sabito since they were seven years old and in school. They have been best friends for a very long time and it was never a problem talking or getting to know him. The years have made that task more manageable, but now, sitting across from each other, in an environment that is supposed to have an intimacy different from platonic, it feels like the hardest thing in the world.
And Giyu really doesn't know what to say to him.
He doesn't know how to act.
Although he doesn't do it on purpose, he knows that his answers and attitude are making Sabito's mood slightly decrease. Tomioka wouldn't have noticed if he didn't know him, and that makes him feel even guiltier.
.
.
.
Giyu opted to excuse himself and escape to the bathroom after they got up and left the restaurant. He needs to gather his thoughts and calm the restless drumming of his heart inside his chest.
Giyu waits until there are no more people with him so he can let out his breath and rest his hand on one of the walls. Tomioka slouches towards it, inhaling and exhaling the lemon floor cleaner scented air while keeping his gaze on some of the stains on his shoes.
He only straightens up when he feels he has calmed down enough after a few seconds, but his hands are clumsy as he reaches for his phone in his pants pocket and enters the diary app.
However, I'm sure you've never gone out on a date before.
So, below are some links to help you out, you late bloomer.
Really?
Next to the note are a few pink links, which open directly to Internet pages. They are mostly teenage blog posts. And Giyu would have laughed to imagine Tanjiro concentrating on searching on sites like those for something that will help him, if it weren't for the page titles, which have their touch of sass and increasingly strike at his pride.
You can get a partner too!
I suffer from anxiety but got a partner.
The dos and don'ts of dating.
Tomioka only manages to clench his jaw and feels his eyelid twitch slightly.
He's making fun of me…
Just then he hears the door open behind him and knows he has to get out.
.
.
.
Sabito is in charge of checking both of them in one of the galleries of the Art Center. It is an exhibition of photographs called 'Nostalgia', which has managed to capture the attention of both of them after they have been loitering on one of the floors for a while in silence.
Giyu walks in with Sabito, and the tour begins in earnest, letting their footsteps lead them around the room. They follow no apparent order, just walking, pausing to look at each photograph for no more than a minute before moving on.
Sabito steps forward a few paces after some point. The whole room has been silent from the beginning despite the relatively large number of people there, so he has stopped trying to start a conversation since they stepped in.
And Giyu merely follows him closely from behind, moving his eyes from one photograph to another.
The exhibition is large. It covers multiple rooms in which the walls are covered entirely with black and white photographs, framed in polished, glossy brown wood.
But it is not until they reach a part of the tour that Giyu finds himself unable to keep walking. His feet suddenly stop. All of him stops and his gaze fixes on the name of the section they are in.
It is titled Hida, and the photographs it contains glow in the white lights above him. It is a group of about thirty frames showing different places in the countryside. Houses, mountains, temples or ribbons.
Up to this point, Tomioka had only followed the exhibition with a somewhat indifferent posture, fixing only on what caught his attention the most before moving on, but now that his eyes have wandered, drawn to the portraits by something he doesn't understand, he can't help but straighten up and really see what's in front of him.
In the center of this section, there is a column of frames portraying landscapes. It is what appears to be the facade of a city hall. A Torii on stairs surrounded by forest. A bridge over the river. A lake-
The strange thing, which makes him hold his breath and look at the photographs in detail, is that Tomioka has the feeling that he has seen them before.
He knows them.
These places trigger a strange tugging at the back of his mind. It drags a feeling that unsettles him. Giyu wonders for a moment if the name of the exhibition has something to do with it. Nostalgia, could he categorize that strange feeling as that?
Because it seems to Giyu that he has somehow been to those places. It's like a longing. A sorrow for a remoteness that is unfamiliar and familiar at the same time.
He doesn't know how to explain it, only that these portraits have spoken to him in a way that the other photographs in the exhibition couldn't. Awakening the tug from the back of his mind to place it in his throat, taking his breath away and disconnecting him from his surroundings for a moment.
Sabito has turned around noticing Tomioka has stopped so suddenly. He watches him for a couple of seconds. His profile, the curvature of his nose and the jet hair on his head. The pinch of his forehead and the glint in his eyes.
An indecipherable expression that makes him sigh before moving closer to where he is and lean towards him, however now, unlike that same morning when he did it to tease him, he does it to speak in a quiet voice.
"Giyu…" Tomioka turns around coming out of his trance at the sound of his voice. Their gazes connect and it is as if he had forgotten for an instant that he was also there because of his lack of reaction to Sabito's closeness and scent. " You're like…a different person today ".
Giyu sees him turn to keep walking, with the same relaxed posture and hands in his pockets that he's had all along the way.
He presses his lips together and the pang of guilt runs through his insides.
But all he can do is move his feet forward, swallow the feeling and think about how it's not the first time he's been told that throughout the month.
Besides how, of all those times, this seems to be the one that has stuck inside Giyu the most.
.
.
.
Crows flit over the buildings on the way back to the train station. The warm sunlight fades as the day ends. It takes on a pleasant autumnal coolness amidst the noise of the cars driving through the streets under the bridge they walk on.
But Giyu stirs restlessly about himself. He fiddles anxiously with his fingers, almost counting every step he takes. He has kept behind Sabito since they left the Art Center, at a relatively safe distance, his eyes fixed on the peach-colored hair at the nape of her neck swaying in the wind.
Everything inside him screams for him to say or do something to get rid of the silence and the squeeze of guilt for not having considered in the slightest how Sabito might be feeling right now.
Giyu feels too imprisoned for being socially awkward, as he knows that Sabito deserves much more than this.
He really would have liked to give him a pleasant evening, one where they could both enjoy themselves and not an atmosphere of awkward, incessant silences where they can only hover around each other without knowing what to do.
But he is not Tanjiro or Tengen or Tsutako. He doesn't have that eloquence or ease with people and hasn't known how to navigate with Sabito so far.
Tomioka takes a breath, filling his chest to give himself courage before finally speaking and saying the first thing that pops into his head that he hopes will help lighten the mood.
"Sabito, are you hungry?" The question comes out somewhat hastily and Giyu mentally scolds himself, raising his hand to the back of his neck as a nervous gesture "How about dinner..."
"Giyu" he says and they both stop. Their gazes reconnect as he turns over his shoulder, his face is relaxed and he smiles at him, as kind as ever despite everything, "Let's call it a day"
"Yeah-" Tomioka wants to say something else, an apology perhaps, but the words get stuck on the tip of her tongue and all that comes out is a slight hum of acceptance. "Yeah..."
Sabito cocks his head to one side for a moment without breaking eye contact, as if considering whether or not to keep talking. Finally he straightens up and finishes turning to look at him fully.
"Giyu you… Sorry if I'm wrong." his voice comes out almost as a whisper and his hands hide behind his back.
"About what?"
"You used to have a crush on me, right?"
Tomioka feels his shoulders twitch and the heat in his face rises in surprise. He skips a heartbeat, but doesn't feel it, as he almost literally loses his breath when his chest tightens.
Because of course Sabito was going to figure it out at some point, what did he expect when he was never too modest or good at hiding it, much less this past month.
Goddamn it, Tanjiro.
"But now, you like someone else" Unlike what anyone might expect, the words don't sound as if they were spoken in pain. Instead, they sound like a statement of confidence, delivered with a relaxed and friendly expression on Sabito's part.
What?
"N-no!" the answer comes out as a chaotic mumble, an automatic denial that doesn't sound entirely convincing "I don't!"
But that seems to trigger the opposite and spark Sabito's curiosity. A much bigger smile begins to tug at his cheeks, stretching the skin of his scar and awakening a mischievous gleam in his eyes.
"Really?"
Giyu turns his gaze away, feeling embarrassment crowd on his face. He brings his hand to his face, trying to somehow cover the evidence of his growing blush, but he knows it doesn't work. Not when Sabito's eyes keep searching his elusive gaze as he moves closer towards him.
"That's not true at all!" Giyu tries again, legitimately convinced that he doesn't like anyone but Sabito.
Because it's not like this past month he's met anyone who stirs up strange feelings inside him besides-
Oh. Oh.
No.
No.
No, nonono-
I don't-
I-
"I don't like him like that!" His tongue betrays him again and this time Giyu freezes.
Sabito laughs teasingly, evidently enjoying Giyu's embarrassed state, not looking hurt at all. "I wonder"
For an instant, Tomioka feels his stomach sink. His heartbeat spirals up until it rumbles inside his ears and his mouth feels dry.
Because at that very moment his mind is filled with nothing but Tanjiro: his face reflected in the mirror; the pictures on the phone of him smiling; the tingle of those pesky earrings on the skin of his neck; his kindness and bright energy; his scolding and concern; his delicious meals; his notes in the diary; his cheekiness and endearing attitudes.
Simply Tanjiro.
Tomioka wants to deny him again. To blatantly lie and avoid it all, but his lips don't respond and seem to have only sealed against each other, a product of the shocking realization of what that means.
Giyu recognizes a sense of deja vu for a moment, but can't think about it deeply.
The silence is enough of an answer for Sabito. He straightens up at last and denies, almost surrendering to the hopeless attitude of the boy in front of him. He still smiles, it's small compared to a few moments ago, but it's a smile nonetheless.
"Well, thanks for today." Giyu finally looks back at Sabito, he has raised his hand in farewell, with a soft and calm gesture on his face before walking away "See ya!"
Somehow, that ends up being the acknowledgement he needs for the guilt to dissolve and he can feel a weight off his shoulders.
.
.
.
Tanjiro had a nervous breakdown in the morning. His body gave in to the emotional exhaustion and he ended up passing out, with the warmth and perfume of his sister as his last memory before falling into darkness.
He slept most of the morning, only waking up when the smell of lunch filled the entire house and the sound of his bedroom door closing came on.
Nezuko didn't go to school either, too worried about taking care of him after seeing him like that.
Tanjiro felt guilty after seeing her almost cry when he sat up straight on the futon, and didn't know what to say when she urgently asked him for an explanation about that morning.
About how one second he was fine and the next he was in shock on the floor crying non-stop.
It was impossible to even think of where to begin. Too many things he would have to say, to make sense of, and if he was honest, Tanjiro didn't feel stable enough to be able to do that.
What he was feeling was pretty much like it was when his parents died three years ago.
The five stages of grief.
Denial.
Because, for a moment Tanjiro questioned whether it had all been real.
If it had really happened. If he really is the reincarnation of a past that seems dystopian and nightmarish.
Perhaps he had finally lost his mind. His head giving in to the unyielding pressure on him until he was imagining things that never really happened.
A previous life?
Oh, please.
But the sinking feeling that followed him, that twisted inside him told him that no, it was real.
It was fucking real.
And Tanjiro had remembered it all.
So the only option left to him was to play dumb and tell his sister that he didn't remember what had happened.
It was obvious Nezuko didn't believe him, but neither could she do anything else in the face of Tanjiro's stubborn avoidance of the subject, and before she could insist, they were interrupted by Grandpa when he came up to get them for lunch.
Urokodaki laid him on the futon after he lost consciousness and, together with Nezuko, had been coming to check on him continuously.
The aroma of food tickled his nose for an instant, inviting him to go downstairs and eat lunch, but Tanjiro didn't want to. The sinking of his stomach meant he wouldn't be able to get through a bite and the numbness in his limbs told him he wouldn't be able to get up.
In the end, his sister and grandfather had reluctantly let him be, with a silent declaration that they would try again later.
Once he was alone, he lay back down, facing the ceiling of his room, and let the sensations wash over him.
He didn't resist them. He didn't hide them under the metaphorical blanket he always puts next to a smile and an "I'm fine."
He didn't deny them passage to his heart.
The uncertainty, the uneasiness, the anger.
He let them flow and spread throughout his body until all he could feel was numbness and his mind in a place far away from home. From his life. From his present.
From his fingertips to the center of his restless chest, with deep, slow breathing, Tanjiro cried again.
But it wasn't in the form of hiccups and sobs as before. No, it was more of a silent, frustrated cry. Tears that only fell from his eyes, leaving a wet sheen on the skin of his cheeks until they lost themselves down the sides of his neck.
It was painful. It burned.
Some say it is better to live in ignorance than to face cruel reality, and Tanjiro understood that until that moment.
He understood many things, in fact. It was a time of reflection and self-discovery in which he refused to leave his room.
He kept himself locked in his head and in the memories of his newfound previous life.
It was unsettling and frightening at the same time. Rummaging through fantastic images and situations that kept coming back to him over and over again.
The temple. Yoriichi and his family. His friends.
They were too many things, clumped together and crackling like a fire spreading out of control.
It felt horrible.
It made him angry, because it had been so unfair.
To know it all, to know that he lived and that... that he had died at the young age of seventeen, after the last battle against Muzan.
That dance-breathing, whatever. The family tradition. The demons. The earrings. A whole series of unfortunate events, connected together in a vomiting butterfly effect.
What he was forced to do as a mere thirteen-year-old boy.
What he saw.
What was taken from him again.
What they wouldn't let him live.
Tanjiro felt the irritation drain his energy. If he had wanted to get up at that moment, his body would have abandoned him and he would have a bruise on his face from the fall.
Plus he already felt the earrings too heavy in his ears.
It was unbelievable to think of them coming back to him. Those amulets that once belonged to his uncle.
Until that moment, Tanjiro hadn't thought of them other than as a gift inherited from his father after the accident.
He was fully aware that they were valuable in the temple, but Tanjiro had not wanted to give them any meaning other than as a reminder of Tanjuro.
And for a moment he felt guilty that he wished they had never been. That they had never fallen into his hands or into his family again. Though he finds it hard to imagine a life where everything would have turned out differently, he's sure it would be much more peaceful than this one.
Now that he has recovered his memories, he couldn't help but let his grandfather's words come back to him as well. He understood why that "Now it's your turn" carried so much weight and haunted him until now.
Because behind it was full of unimaginable things.
He understood.
He really understood.
But, in spite of everything, Tanjiro did nothing to stop all that psychotic and emotional wave. He wouldn't have been able to anyway. Not when Giyu was present in most of it and, that without a doubt, was what strangled his heart the most.
Giyu Tomioka.
That same person he had been switching notes and bodies with for the past month.
The one he argued with, got angry with, frustrated with, and scolded.
The one he'd been cooking his favorite food for because he knew he'd eat it without protest.
That stubborn and quiet boy, but when it comes to defending others he becomes strong and firm.
Kind and with a smile that anyone would be lucky to appreciate.
Tomioka-San.
That same person with whom he would do soba eating competitions.
Who was amazing, fought by his side and protected him.
Who in a previous life had suffered so much and didn't see the value he truly possessed.
Giyu, did you know that butterflies can't see their own wings?
That's why they don't realize how beautiful they are.
You are like a butterfly, because you are an… amazing person, and you just don't see it.
That person who had moved him so much with his sweet and selfless actions.
The parallelism between the two was evident without a doubt, he noticed the marked difference of one and the other, but for Tanjiro, he was still the same person he had fallen in love with twice.
He was still his Giyu.
Love also found its way inside him. Leaning back, with his vermilion gaze still lost somewhere in the wood of the ceiling, Tanjiro felt all his feelings for this man overflowing.
The initial shock of the revelation stopped being so heavy and subsided into a bitter sense of loss and sadness.
It was ironic. Love is supposed to be the most beautiful force in the world. Something uncontrollable that envelops you like warm water and makes you happy. However, for Tanjiro that moment was only something that suffocated and depressed him.
In this present, the love Tanjiro felt for Giyu was unrequited. Still palpable was the reality that he was having a date with the person he liked at that moment, hundreds of miles away from his reach and from the last words they exchanged before his life was extinguished.
Of that promise.
He had fucking promised.
But Giyu didn't remember it. He didn't remember him , and that only made it worse.
Everything that was revealed to Tanjiro was still lost in Tomioka's unconscious, making everything they had experienced in that past only meaningful to him and no one else.
It was more of a hunch, but Tanjiro was sure that that previous life slept somewhere in Tomioka's head.
And if only Tanjiro had remembered it before, he would have done everything he could to make Giyu remember it too, so that their history together wouldn't be forgotten and so that he could tell him again and again how much he loved him.
But it didn't happen that way, and that reality was numbing.
Exhausting, and Tanjiro tried with all his might to fall back into the arms of sleep to just stop thinking about it, but every time he did, his tormented head became infested with questions.
How was the date going for him?
Had the blogs he'd left him done any good?
Would he have enjoyed it as much as he hoped?
Would he finally have been able to tell Sabito that-
That…
It was painful to think about Tomioka finally confessing his feelings to his peach-haired friend.
Although well, having Giyu constantly on his mind sure was.
After a time that seemed like forever, Tanjiro was aware that hours had passed as the sky changed from a soft light blue to warm splashes of orange, pink and red, and he was able to muster enough willpower to figure out exactly what time it was.
His stomach growled for the food he was denied at noon, and only then was Tanjiro able to leave his room.
He strode through the corridors and down the stairs. He did so cautiously. Quietly. Wanting at all costs to avoid his sister noticing he was finally out and ambushing him with questions.
The house was silent and gloomy. Tanjiro realized at that very moment how big it really was. Despite having spent his whole life within those walls, he had never stopped to really notice the darkness that enveloped it when it was not in that pleasant and familiar environment.
It wasn't hard to guess that it felt that way because of what had happened to him that morning. In a perpetual state of tension that could be cut with a knife, and Tanjiro didn't know whether to feel worse for worrying his family like that.
Tanjiro didn't make it to the kitchen. Still with too many things swirling around in his head, he halted his steps when he found a light escaping through the open doors of one of the rooms on the first floor. There was no sound, apart from the brush of what sounded like the turning of the pages of a book, but from the faint smell, Tanjiro knew it was Urokodaki who was there.
For an instant he wanted to walk away. To turn back and forget his hunger, to get to the dining room he would have to walk past that room and his grandfather would sense him.
But he didn't, instead he stood still, with only one thought going through his head.
Tanjiro has always been impulsive. Someone who makes rash decisions, only to deal with the consequences later. However, he had never felt such a need to do something, as he did at that very moment.
Everything in him started screaming for him to move and enter that room. His memories were pushing him to act. His hands tingled with the urgency and anxiety he was experiencing.
Do it!
Get in that room!
Tell Grandpa!
Tell him!
Tanjiro then made up his mind. Forgetting his first objective of going to the kitchen, he filled his chest with courage and took a step forward which was followed by many more. Reaching the door frame, he found Urokodaki with his back to him. He was on his knees reading in front of the tatami in the middle of the room and if he noticed his presence, he decided not to move.
Tanjiro hesitated for a second. His hand fiddled with one of his earrings as a habit in the face of his nervousness.
"Grandpa."
His voice sounded hesitant. He even avoided looking at his grandfather's back as he called out to him by directing his eyes to the ground, but when Urokodaki finally turned, curling his body back to look at him, he knew there was no turning back.
There was nothing he could do about Giyu even when he had been given another chance.
But there was one thing he could take care of in this present.
Something he had to stop running away from and face it.
Take the bull by the horns and finally send it the fuck off.
"Can we talk?"
Tanjiro only hoped he wouldn't regret it.
.
.
.
"Brother" The door closes as his sister's soft voice and silhouette appear in front of him.
Tanjiro has been sitting for a long time. No longer on the futon, but leaning his back against the shoji doors in front of where Nezuko is. They are slightly open, letting in the wind and letting the playful tinkling of the little bell hanging from the frame be heard.
"How are you feeling?"
Tanjiro puffs out his chest, breathing deeply. Aware of how the air enters filling his lungs and exits to lose itself in the ambiance of the room. An endless cycle that is easier now. Liberating.
It allows him to keep his gaze fixed on her worried eyes and think to himself how strange it is to see this version of his sister after what happened in the morning.
"I'm fine, Nezuko," he answers her in a small voice. He has lost count of how many times he has said those words throughout the day.
He sees Nezuko stir on herself for a second, hesitating until she finally approaches him with an almost cautious step. Her body slides down until she sits beside him as well and then there is silence.
It's not uncomfortable, but it can't be said to be comforting either. It is rather expectant. It's that anxious little lapse that forms before an important conversation begins.
"I know you spoke to Grandpa a few moments ago," she begins. Her voice is soft, as if she doesn't want to be overheard because there's someone else somewhere besides them.
Tanjiro was already expecting it. Somehow, Nezuko always managed to find out about everything. Maybe she's hiding to listen or Grandpa tells her at the end. It was only a matter of time before she came to talk to him about it, although a part of Tanjiro wished it would happen later or maybe tomorrow.
Well, we often don't get what we want.
"Are you sure it's for the best?" Nezuko insists. Tanjiro can feel her gaze fixed on his profile as he hasn't changed position at any point. Shoulders slightly hunched forward. Head back, leaning against the door. And gaze fixed straight ahead, to a non-existent point at the other end of the room.
Tanjiro had been wondering the same thing for the past few minutes. Whether the decision he had made was really the best one for him.
Reject his role in the temple and walk away for good.
"Believe me, I've tried for a long time not to end up like Yoriichi" Tanjiro finally replies. He doesn't need to turn to look at Nezuko to know that all her attention is with him.
For the longest time, Tanjiro feared he would end up like his uncle Yoriichi. Ending up doing the same thing and hurting his family as much as he did when they had to find a new head for the priesthood.
It was a heated argument that is still fresh in his memories. Although he wasn't part of it, he was close enough to be able to hear his uncle's and grandfather's voices rising above everything else. Complaints, cries and rejections.
After Tanjuro's death, Urokodaki sent for him to be the next to take over the Kamado shrine, but Yoriichi flatly refused. He was upset to the point of not measuring his words. The wound from the loss of his parents was fresh, too fresh , and hearing him speak like that only made it worse.
Their relationship with him was completely severed from that day on. Yoriichi left home and concentrated strictly on politics.
And at fifteen, Tanjiro inherited the earrings and would become the next leader of the temple when he came of age.
He had already turned eighteen, a few months before the swaps with Giyu and all this. The ritual back in September, when he still felt the uncertainty of what the future held for him, was just the beginning so that he could finally take his place in the priesthood in January. Well, that was the plan, but Tanjiro is not going to be able to do it, so his sister's concern is understandable.
He doesn't want to admit it, but this new reality has taken that crushing weight off his shoulders and Tanjiro... he doesn't feel guilty about it.
Not at all.
"But you... you couldn't" Nezuko ventures to declare. Somehow it's nice how careful she's being with her words and actions with him.
"I'm tired of not being honest with myself and others, Nezuko." Saying it out loud is gratifying. He no longer has to hide it . He no longer has to pretend.
Tanjiro lets the air out again in a sigh and this time drops his head to the side on his sister's shoulder. The distance separating them since Nezuko took a seat next to him was almost non-existent. However, she reacts by moving even closer to him, resting her face in her brother's hair and waiting for him to continue talking.
She restrains herself from insisting because she knows that, as it happened that morning, it wouldn't work and only gives her brother what he needs at the moment. Time. Support. A shoulder to lean on. Literally.
"I can't stand the temple" The words escape his lips with an ease that makes him want to laugh bitterly, as if it's never been something that left him shaking with rejection.
After his uncle left, Tanjiro found himself wondering, why did Yoriichi have that reaction?
Why did he do what he did and say what he said?
I loved my brother, not the Kamado shrine or that fucking sun god dance!
I am not going to wear those earrings.
At the time he was furious that he couldn't understand it; that he had not done something when their gazes met for the last time before the final slamming of the door that his uncle left behind never to return; that he had not said something to defend what his father in life had been so devoted to.
But now he understands.
That maybe his uncle was like he was. That maybe all that behavior was driven by the same thing it was for him.
The past.
Tanjiro doesn't know if Yoriichi has any memories of all those years ago, when he himself was a demon slayer. The memories inherited from his ancestor helped him learn a little about what was the origin of the breathing and solar dance, but only Yoriichi himself from hundreds of years ago could know the impact it had on his life and all that he experienced.
In the present day that man who in a previous life created it, is his uncle. Blood of his blood that maybe is just tired of the religion or wants to stop being part of it for whatever reason, and just live a quiet life.
Let the past stay in the past.
Tanjiro could understand that unlike him, from the very beginning Yoriichi had the courage to stand up to it and seek his own well-being and peace, but it was a double-edged sword, as he did so at the expense of his relationship with his family.
Sometimes things turn out like that.
"Why didn't you say anything sooner?" his sister asks.
Tanjiro purses his lips into a grimace and takes a considerable few seconds to answer her "I didn't want to hurt Grandpa or you..."
Luckily, for Tanjiro, it didn't turn out that way.
"He's not upset, you know that, right?" this time Nezuko says it with certainty. Convinced that there is no more reality than that, but with that sweetness so characteristic of her. "Neither am I."
The smile escapes him before he can contain it. The first genuine one he's made all day. He feels Nezuko move, for an instant he thinks she's going to get up, but then she wraps the arm he was leaning on around him and now hugs him sideways.
It's a bit awkward, so Tanjiro straightens up to settle into the warmth of the gesture and lets himself be coddled a bit by his sister. She begins to fiddle with his hair.
" Yeah, and that was what surprised me the most" he admits between the snort of a laugh and Nezuko squeezes her hug a little in a gesture of support.
When Tanjiro spoke to Urokodaki, it was almost as if he had already expected it. As if he had been aware of it beforehand. All his grandfather did was take off his mask, smile and hug him tightly, telling him that it was all right. It leaves him a little uneasy, wondering how much his grandfather knows or if he is really that bad at hiding his emotions.
There is a long lapse of time before they say something again. He thinks of nothing in particular, just enjoys the sound of the crickets on the other side of the shoji gates, the scent of the countryside and the familiar caresses on his head.
For a moment it reminds him of the ones his mother used to give him when she hugged him, and Tanjiro thinks he could fall asleep right there because of how comfortable he is and how heavy his eyelids are starting to feel.
But Nezuko speaks up before that happens.
"Don't worry, I'll take care of everything so you..." she seems to hesitate for a second, though at first it was as if she had reasoned it out enough, then she takes a breath and continues "You'll be able to follow your heart, like you always told me to do."
Tanjiro feels a pang in his chest and the smile disappears. The drowsiness leaves.
He definitely doesn't want that for Nezuko. He doesn't want her to be a part of the whole mess behind all this. He wants her to form a life for herself and end up growing up happy. Free from the traditions and the weight of the temple on her back. May she meet that special person and fall in love , even if it ends up being Zenitsu.
He wants her to be selfish and think of herself as well, but he knows there is no way to change her mind now that she feels it will be her responsibility.
Because Nezuko has always been like that, thinking of her loved ones first before herself. He is sure that if, in this present, they had also had siblings, she would be like a second mother to them. He can't help but feel a pang of guilt even if he doesn't intentionally do it.
But he also can't tell her and talk her out of it without looking or sounding insane. It's still too hard to explain. Too painful to remember.
Tanjiro feels the throbbing in his sister's chest again when she speaks. The vibration of her voice. It rumbles in his head at his lack of response startling him and drawing his attention back to her.
"Tanjiro, who's-"
.
.
.
Giyu should have returned home by now, but he's in no rush to do so. Not that he's looking forward to going back either.
Maybe half an hour has passed since Sabito left, he's not too sure since he hasn't touched his phone in a while. He hasn't even moved. He has just stood there, leaning on the railing of the same bridge.
The traffic lights change every so often. The cars passing underneath him haven't stopped moving. The sun is getting lower and lower behind the buildings. And some planes have flown over the clouds in the darkening sky.
The world remains immovable before his eyes, while Tomioka merely lets himself be enveloped by the haze of his new feelings.
Tanjiro.
Giyu likes Tanjiro.
He literally just realized it. His chest is light, but it flutters at the same time from how good that thought feels.
Giyu has never been very good with feelings. Awkward with relationships, and even with animals like dogs. If he realized he liked Sabito when he was in high school it was only because Tsutako helped him put a name to everything he felt then.
That pleasant, happy buzzing in his veins. The giddy swirling of tickles settling in his stomach.
What he feels for Tanjiro is the same.
The progression from thinking of him as a brat, to just as Tanjiro was gradual. Natural even, because he doesn't remember the last time he got to call him that.
Although they haven't met in person so far, it's pretty obvious. There's a reason Sabito himself told him so.
Now that he thinks about it, it's one of the main reasons why the date went so badly. Sometime during the month he stopped having those romantic feelings for his best friend and, as a result, they didn't hit it off this time.
He hadn't realized it because his head was constantly on the swaps and keeping his lifestyle as normal as possible. Just... just on Tanjiro.
He probably did it with the best of intentions, but in the end, this day will remain as an attempt of something that didn't work.
Maybe he'll scold him through the diary, in that unique and endearing big brother way he has. Or maybe he'll worry and end up apologizing for getting too far ahead of himself, thinking he's ruined a friendship as strong as the one Tomioka and Sabito had.
Giyu will have to clarify that everything was fine in the end because the last thing he wants now is to worry him. Because even if they didn't say it explicitly, he could understand that Sabito wasn't angry. That their friendship relationship will remain intact, and that's more than enough for Giyu.
Now the question is, what to do with Tanjiro?
This whole month they spent exchanging messages and swapping bodies somehow felt more bearable. As if the world and his college life weren't too much.
Beneath the surface, deep down, where the confusion and frustration over his situation wasn't present, Giyu could tell that he came to feel comfortable, alive, excited somehow.
Fuck , he could even say he felt happy . But not as happy as when he's with his sister. Or with his friends. It's a special kind of happiness he could only have because of Tanjiro.
Giyu could search the internet for what a person feels when they like someone... and he knows he would have millions of answers and results.
But for Giyu, it was as if now, he felt complete in some way.
Not necessarily complete of not being able to live without that other person since it's never been that way, but rather complete of feeling like they complement each other.
That it makes it easier for him to just breathe. That it makes him feel strong. Feeling like he can and wants to be better.
That makes the colors brighter. That makes them shine . That the worries of his day to day life aren't so crushing, and that no matter how bad things are, everything will be okay in the end.
It's... amazing to feel so much for someone whose voice he hasn't even heard in person.
Giyu's hand had already moved to his pocket before he realizes it. He turns on his phone and his fingers automatically reach for the diary app. There are the last words written by Tanjiro in the note and Giyu can't help but read them out loud.
"By the time the date is over, the comet will be visible in the sky."
By the time the date is over, the comet will be visible in the sky.
"Comet?" Giyu rereads them about two more times, then stretches his neck as he looks up. "What is he saying?" he asks to the nothingness.
His gaze searches the ever-darkening clouds of the late evening for something other than the few stars in sight or something like a comet. He does so for a few more seconds, but there is nothing.
Giyu looks at his phone again, confused, and finds the note staring back at him.
Tomioka contemplates it for a few seconds. He purses his lips and frowns, suddenly nervous about the idea crossing his mind. He searches through his contacts for one in particular, but does nothing once he finds it.
He looks at the kanji carefully. That name.
Tanjiro Kamado.
The number appeared on his list after one of the many swaps, but he's not sure why he never called Tanjiro or sent him a message instead of leaving notes in the diary or on his skin.
Now, however, seems like a good time to finally do so.
He could tell him directly what happened to him during the day. Ask him how he's doing or if he left any food in the fridge. He didn't check that morning because he left in a hurry. Suddenly, Tomioka wants to laugh at the thought that that would be another thing he would scold him for.
He could even...tell him what he had just found out.
Then he takes a breath and, after a few seconds, gathers enough courage to tap the green, small call icon on the screen. The phone comes to his ear and the ringing of the call begins to sound.
One.
Two.
Three.
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.
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"Tanjiro, who's-"
But Nezuko's question dies before she can complete it. A phone ringing starts to be heard near them, breaking the comfortable and familiar atmosphere that both siblings shared.
It is Tanjiro's phone. It moves softly as it vibrates on the floor near them. Nezuko just realized it was there the whole time as she and her brother simultaneously turn towards the direction of the sound.
The hug breaks and Tanjiro straightens up. He picks it up almost lazily with a heavy hand before looking at the screen for a second and noticing the name on it.
Tanjiro holds the phone to his ear and finally answers. Following his movements, Nezuko also notices that he's not wearing his earrings.
"Oh, hi Zenitsu " his voice is a bit slurred and it will be obvious to Agatsuma that something is wrong.
Nezuko listens from where she is to her friend's muffled voice on the other end of the line somewhat hurriedly. She assumes he must be worried about his brother since neither he nor Inosuke have heard from him all day. Besides, she forgot to tell them something since she was too focused on taking care of Tanjiro.
"No, I just didn't feel like going, that's all..... I'm fine." Tanjiro lies. He can feel the reproach in his sister's gaze on him even without turning around to check. "What? The festival?".... Yeah, the comet. Today is the peak of its brightness, isn't it?"
Tanjiro had actually forgotten about it. He supposed he'd put it aside after... everything that had happened in the morning. Not that he'd felt like talking to his friends or anyone in particular all day either.
A few more seconds pass where he hears Zenitsu tell him that they'll be waiting for them by the coffee vending machines to go to the festival, with Nezuko kneeling next to him just silently.
"Okay, got it. Later then." Tanjiro accepts and the call ends. His hand and the phone lower to rest in his lap and he sighs before finally turning to meet his sister's insistent gaze.
"Are you sure, brother?" she asks.
The pinch of worry has settled between her brows again and Tanjiro rolls his eyes and simply lifts his hand to her face and rests one of his fingers on it to smooth it out and make it disappear. She lets out a little sound of surprise and almost exasperation at the action. "I mean it, Tanjiro."
"Easy, Nezuko." He means it, too.
Then Tanjiro gets up, dusts off his pants and fixes the school uniform sweater he's wearing and which he didn't bother to take off all day.
It's true that too much has happened.
If he's honest, Tanjiro just wants to lie down and sleep and face it in the morning. The bug of his previous life is still there, clinging with him. He's not going to be able to forget it or live with it so easily, but he knows that if he were to give into all those emotions so easily, he'd be nothing but miserable.
He's avoided his friends and family for long enough, and maybe being at the festival will manage to give him that distraction to appease his heart and stop thinking about Giyu Tomioka.
After all, he was looking forward to going.
Tanjiro holds out his hand to Nezuko to help her to get up. She takes it and, after a tug, is back on her feet with all her weight on the ground.
"We had planned to go to the festival beforehand" he finally declares, letting go of her hand, and with a small but honest smile, he manages to convince Nezuko somehow "We can't let them down now."
.
.
.
"You just want to see Nezuko in a kimono" Inosuke chuckles knowingly, leaning into Zenitsu's personal space and fluttering his eyebrows up and down mischievously.
Zenitsu blushes at Inosuke's blatant teasing and how he chases after him no matter how hard he tries to move away.
They've both been sitting for about ten minutes, back on the old wooden benches by the vending machines, waiting for their friends. By now it's already dark, as it's about 8:15 pm.
"No!" Zenitsu exclaims and raises his hand, the one not holding the can of coffee he's been drinking, and smacks Inosuke in the face. He gets a groan in response when a van passes on the street in front of them and its headlights flash at them for a second. "Well, yeah, but that's not the point!"
He defends himself again and his brow furrows in annoyance. Inosuke straightens up and, though his brow has furrowed all the same, he laughs back, lifting his own coffee can to his lips to take the last remaining sip.
Zenitsu turns his face in indignation and takes a sip as well. His eyes then fix on the hill at the other end of the road until he finally comes upon the chimney of the Kamado house.
It stands there for a while, watching as the smoke dissolves and disappears into the sky. The wind ruffles his blond hair and sends a shiver through the ill-fitting collar of his yellow yukata.
His conversation with Tanjiro is still fresh in his head. Like a mosquito buzzing constantly by his ear, and to say he's worried would be an understatement.
It's not because in itself, it was already strange that neither he nor Nezuko had gone to school that day or because he hadn't heard from them until an hour ago.
Although Zenitsu has always been melodramatic and a first-rate crybaby, he can tell when something is wrong . And he only had to hear the first word on the other end of the line from Tanjiro to know that something was really wrong .
Zenitsu listens ; it's like a little talent, as his sense of hearing has been highly developed since he was a child. Tanjiro has always had a soft sound. Kind. Warm, and not having picked up on any of that when they spoke on the phone disconcerted him greatly.
Much to the contrary of Inosuke's thoughts, Zenitsu is not anxious to see Nezuko in a kimono. Perhaps a part of him is, but mostly he wants to see Tanjiro and make sure he really is all right as he had claimed to him a while ago.
Even if a part of him knows it was a big lie.
"He sounded kind of upset" Zenitsu blurts out the comment into the air, fiddling with the now empty coffee can in his hands.
Inosuke has thrown his head back and is leaning against the back of the benches with his hands in his jacket pockets. He's not wearing a yukata compared to Zenitsu, but he has brought his boar mask, which rests on the floor next to his feet at the moment.
Inosuke lets out a hum of understanding before replying "Maybe you annoyed him" he doesn't move from the position he's in, and though he says it lazily, there's a tinge of mockery that's easy to notice.
Zenitsu rolls his eyes and digs his elbow into the ribs of the boy next to him, wondering why he even bothers to tell Inosuke "Come on!"
The hit wasn't particularly hard, but it wasn't soft either, so Inosuke shrinks, hugging his side and winces. For an instant he's about to respond and maybe launch himself at Zenitsu, but the clap, clap, clap of geta on the ground and an agitated voice coming towards them interrupts him.
"Sorry we're late!" that' s Nezuko apologizing, standing in front of them and making them turn around at the same time.
She looks as lovely as ever. She wears her long hair pulled back, braided into a bun with a red ribbon. She wears a beautiful pink kimono that matches her eyes. It looks hand-embroidered with patterns, and a red and white obi cinched around her waist, ending in geta sandals on her feet.
Zenitsu has to clear his throat to hide the blush on his cheeks and get rid of his whimsy at seeing her in that outfit.
His gaze then falls on the person behind Nezuko.
A straight look at Tanjiro is enough for both of them to realize that something is indeed wrong, very wrong.
Tanjiro is almost hidden behind Nezuko. Just standing with his eyes on the ground or anywhere else but them.
He is dressed in a yukata just like Zenitsu, it has a pattern with green and black squares that make his red hair stand out. It is tousled. The locks fall messily in all directions, even covering the scar on his forehead instead of being brushed back.
And, just like several times that same month, he is not wearing his trademark earrings.
Because it is his rigid posture. His shoulders tense and his weight pulling back what gives him away. The fact that he's not looking at them puts Zenitsu on edge just as much, and the worry he was already carrying in his chest is charged even more.
His face is... off. What is usually a welcoming and expressive look is now almost stoic.
It would go unnoticed by anyone who doesn't really know Tanjiro, but not to them. They do notice. Both of them, because even Inosuke changes his disinterested posture and frowns for a second.
.
.
.
Tanjiro is trying. Shit, he's really doing it, but this already seems like a fucking joke of fate.
He wasn't originally going to come dressed like this. He wasn't going to think too much about what he was going to wear because he didn't feel like doing it honestly and a sweatshirt would have been enough.
But then his sister came into his room, still half dressed up and with her hair down, wearing that pink kimono. That. Pink. Kimono.
The one she wore as a demon in her previous life and which he would recognize anywhere. In this present, moreover, it's her favorite and it still fits her so perfectly that it's even painful for him to think about how he'd forgotten she had it.
He had freezed when he saw it and the sinking came back chaotic and sudden.
He doesn't know how he managed to hide it long enough until she approached him, handing him an outfit he hadn't noticed due to the initial shock he felt.
"I made it for you," she had told him, almost shy and embarrassed. Her eyes had lowered to what Nezuko was referring to "It's just like the one Dad wore, remember?".
Oh, of course he remembered it. A little too well even.
It was the second time - second life - that he had come across that checkered print, now turned into a yukata, that had been with him for so long at one time or another.
His chest had tightened as he noticed it. Tanjiro could only manage to bite his lips inside, not taking his eyes off the garment and still listening to his sister's sweet words: "But this time I wanted to do it so it would suit you."
Tanjiro has never been one to deny Nezuko anything, so he had no heart to refuse the gift.
His movements were almost mechanical as he dressed. His actions were involuntary and when he was finally with the yukata over his shoulders he felt... strange.
It was light and had a pleasant smell of incense that for some reason felt nostalgic to him. It was almost unreal to think about putting it on again after all, and involuntarily, Tanjiro wondered what would have happened to Tomioka's haori.
Ah, dammit.
He didn't bother combing his hair, though. He didn't have a mirror to look at himself anyway, since he broke it and Urokodaki and Nezuko had gotten rid of the frame and broken pieces of glass sometime in the morning.
When they left the house a while later, he thought he could go on with the evening without giving the yukata a second thought, only to realize that he had once again underestimated fate when he noticed his friends by the vending machines.
More specifically, he noticed what they were wearing. Zenitsu was wearing a yukata with the same design as his demon slayer haori. Yellow with white triangles scattered in no order along the fabric. It was badly put on and with a wrinkled collar, but it had all the essence of the Zenitsu of the past and Tanjiro felt himself pale.
Then there was Inosuke with that boar mask. He knows that it had been a gift from his mother in this present and, compared to the previous one, it is fake and covered with artificial fur. But in any case, the fact that he has it is already something that managed to unsettle him too much.
He couldn't face them when they finally caught up with them, and by the change in the smell of both of them, he also knew that they knew something was wrong with him.
Only there he could realize that around him there were always little hints or clues of his past and that life , but he never imagined that such irrelevant things as those could mean something more than they really are.
Nezuko was the one who started walking encouraging the others to do so, and Tanjiro took advantage of the fact that he had stayed behind her to walk ahead and take some distance from his friends.
He didn't want them to start asking questions too.
Now the four of them walk through Itomori. There are street lights lit, scattered all over the streets. They illuminate the pavement with an orange color and the grass growing in their crevices. Tanjiro knows they lead to the shrine and the festival food stalls built outside it.
All the people around him are heading that way and an unintelligible murmur charged with exhilaration and good humor completely envelops the atmosphere. Crickets chirp in the grass and a distant traditional melody is heard.
Tanjiro and the others, however, do not walk towards the shrine. They walk in the opposite direction to everyone else, up the hill along the path, led by him in question.
"What's wrong with him?" Zenitsu finally asks, leaning over to Nezuko to whisper to her.
The three of them walk side by side. She walks in the middle and he next to Inosuke on either side. Their pace is relaxed and almost shuffling, leaving a considerable distance between them and Tanjiro, who hasn't turned at any time and just looks around without stopping moving forward.
Nezuko sighs, almost discouraged and surrendered. It was only a matter of time before one of the two mentioned something about her brother's behavior, but even now she doesn't know what to tell them.
"I don't know," she admits, not looking away from the hair on the back of Tanjiro's neck swaying in the wind and his movements. It is a whisper, and both Inosuke and Zenitsu catch the strong emotions it contains.
Nezuko's face contracts into a worried grimace and Zenitsu turns to look at Tanjiro as well, thinking about how much it upsets him to see them both like this.
"Do you think it's because of someone who broke his heart?" Zenitsu asks again considering that possibility in his head. His eyes then turn to the dark sky above them and the bunch of twinkling stars in it.
Maybe he really is mourning for a person they didn't know about. Someone he loved who left him.
Zenitsu has never been in love. That is, he's always nagging with puppy dog eyes saying he'll marry Nezuko, but if he's honest he's never felt that way about her.
He likes her, it's true, but the line hasn't been crossed into real love , so he wouldn't know if that's the case or not.
Because Tanjiro is someone who loves in general. He's always empathetic and kind to the people around him, and many times, Zenitsu has come to think about how that genuine way of his would lead to him getting hurt at some point. And that worried him.
If he looks back, it's not like Tanjiro ever told them that he was attracted to or in love with someone either. The last time it may have happened was in middle school with that Kanao girl, but even that's not for sure.
Now, however, Zenitsu could be sure that this is what someone with a broken heart must look and sound like.
So melancholy and overwhelming.
So blue.
Nezuko lifts her shoulders not knowing what to answer him when he looks at her again. Inosuke hasn't said anything the whole way. He has only remained silent and with an eerily serious expression even for him, wearing his mask over his head, but not lowering it all the way down to his face.
Then, the three of them jump when they hear a startled gasp from Tanjiro up ahead. When they look, they realize that he has already reached the top of the path and has finally turned to look at them.
"Hey! You can see it!" his voice sounds excited somehow and none of them know how to feel about it.
Tanjiro points to something they can't see in the distance, before stepping into the tall grass beside the road.
The autumn wind blows and stirs the foliage of the nearby trees. The faintest leaves fall from their branches and follow it until they are lost in the meadow they have reached. It is wide, with a blanket of grass that rustles and tickles the skin of his ankles as he walks.
Their eyes are fixed on the sky. Their faces have been turned upward so that they can clearly contemplate all that is exposed above their heads.
There, in the midst of all the deep night, standing out among the stars large and small, they can see lines and brushstrokes painted in the most beautiful shades of purple and blue sky.
A shimmering trail, stretching between the remnant and almost imperceptible clouds. A long hair of striking intermittent colors that crosses the night sky.
Comet Tiamat.
It is simply breathtaking.
Tanjiro feels for a second that he is seeing something out of a fantastic dream.
Nothing more, nothing less, than a spectacular view.
Tanjiro notices the footsteps of his friends and his sister behind him in the grass. They too stop not far behind him and let out involuntary sounds of amazement.
Tanjiro shudders and feels a shiver run down his spine. His hair is stirred even more by the breeze around him. A heartbeat escapes him. He doesn't want to blink because he might miss the spectacle in front of him.
And that's when the comet breaks apart . A small fragment of the comet flies away from it, turning into a reddish sphere that falls through the sky.
He lets out the breath he's been holding, and for the first time all day, Tanjiro feels calm. Being there, witnessing something like this, brings him a peace that is too singular.
In his mind, there are no memories. There are no strong emotions. No Giyu Tomioka.
Without thinking. Without feeling. Blank mind, filling completely with the comet.
Only the stars falling from the sky.
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Four.
Five.
Six.
The number you have called is not available or has been turn off-
Giyu drops his hand alongside his phone until they are once again level with his chest. A sigh of disappointment escapes him, and all the throbbing excitement that was bubbling inside him a moment ago fades away as the seconds tick by.
"I'll tell him about this disastrous date the next time we switch…"
He takes one last look at Tanjiro's name on the screen before reluctantly stuffing it into his pocket and starting to walk towards his apartment, crossing the streets of a nighttime Tokyo.
I thought. But, for some reason, after that, Tanjiro and I never switched places again.