The Wandering Swordsman - Chapter 8 - Dark_Ryu_69 - 鬼滅の刃 (2024)

Chapter Text

𝙽𝙾𝚅𝙴𝙼𝙱𝙴𝚁

𝚃𝚘𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚌𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚙,

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚜𝚔𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚜;

𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚞𝚖𝚗 𝚜𝚊𝚍𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜.

▬▲▬

The Rengoku family noticed a change recently. Zenitsu seemed more happier now, somewhat.

In the past, the child always appeared distracted. Staring into space as if he was seeing something the Rengoku family could not, with eyes that seemed more older than he actually looked. Zenitsu would appear to be the most saddest human being on Earth at times like this.

But he seemed happier now. More alive, more alert, and more awake.

He doesn't randomly drift off as often as he did before.

Doesn't gaze somberly into their eyes or smile sadly.

Instead, he holds his head high and laughs easily.

It is a precious sight.

At this very precise moment in time, Zenitsu found himself in a very strange predicament. Was itnormalfor children to be enamored with his long, golden, choppy hair?

Zenitsupaused. Now that he really thought about it, every person he had ever come across with had always been oddly fascinated by the color and texture of his hair. For instance, Sanemi or Makomo would always pull a strand of his golden hair close to their face and kiss it tenderly, shockingeveryone who witnessed it.

For Zenitsu, however, it never failed to embarrass him deeply.While Zenitsu delved into his reminiscences, small fingers suddenly tugged at his hair with force, causing him to flinch, narrowly avoiding hitting himself in the act.

"Ah, I'm sorry! Did I hurt you?”

Zenitsu blinked his eyes and quickly reassured the child behind him, "Oh, no! You didn't hurt me at all, Obanai. I apologize for startling you."

Obanai's cheeks turned red at Zenitsu’s thoughtfulness, though Zenitsu would not be able to see it because of their sitting arrangement. But he could hear how Obanai's heartbeats were beating more and more rapidly.He frowned in perplexity.

Before Zenitsu could openly express his concern, a sudden rush of eager footsteps interrupted him."Zenitsu-chan! Zenitsu-chan!" A cheerful voice rang next to him. "Zenitsu-chan, look! I finally did it! Are you proud of me?"

Zenitsu turned to look at Kyojuro in confusion. The sheer joy and warmth emanating from Kyojuro’s expression nearly caused him to melt. His eyes fell upon the flower crown held in Kyojuro's hands, and he smiled widely. "Kyojuro, it's lovely. Well done!”

The young boy blushed before grinning bashfully. Then, a mischievous thought crossed his mind. Kyojuro seized the moment when no one was watching. He deftly placed the flower crown atop Zenitsu’s head. Zenitsu's lips parted in surprise.

Kyojuro's awe was immediate as he took a step back, his hands falling to his sides. Senjuro, who roused from his nap, mirrored the same expression as he leaned on Zenitsu to get a closer look. Even Obanai, typically reserved, couldn't hide his admiration.

Suddenly, the atmosphere wasveryweird, instilling a sense of unease in Zenitsu.He asked them nervously, "Do I look odd?"

The children looked aghast by his question. "No!"

"Zenitsu-chan is very cute.Always," Kyojuro added, daring anyone to hold a different opinion.

Shinjuro observed as Zenitsu, whose cheeks had gone a little red, broke into a shy smile. It was the kind of smile that would make anyone feel irresistibly warm and fuzzy inside, and the children, as if confirming Shinjuro's thoughts, immediately began to gush with excitement.

Shinjuro couldn't help feeling rattled while bearing witness to the children's evident crush on Zenitsu.

The fact that Zenitsu had bewitched his family with his looks and kindness has not gone unnoticed by him! Every second, every minute, every hour of the day Shinjuro sees the children vying for Zenitsu's attention.

However, they were fighting a losing battle when it came to Senjuro.

Senjuro, with his excessively cute looks and charm, had wholly captured Zenitsu's heart; the two were practically inseparable.

Whenever Shinjuro or even Ruka attempted to retrieve their youngest from Zenitsu, the toddler would cast the most poignant gaze at Zenitsu, prompting Zenitsu to hold him again and give him his whole undivided attention.

Kyojuro and Obanai would click their tongues disapprovingly whenever they saw this.

A sharp pang of betrayal pierced Shinjuro's heart.

Wasn't he theirfather?

The one who raised them their entire lives?

The oneconstantpresence during their times of need?

Even though Obanai was not his child by blood, he liked to think he was a decent father figure to him.No matter how busy Shinjuro was, he'd always set aside time to get to know the boy better or simply cheer him up whenever he was down, just like he always does with his boys.

Now, however, something was amiss.The children had barely met Zenitsu, yet suddenly they functioned as if Zenitsu had been the one by their side all along.Clearly, some kind of witchcraft was at play.

Shinjuro complained about it to his wife one day. But Ruka did not seem to be bothered by this as he was. She was amused and evenentertainedby the situation.

"Don't you think it's endearing?" she had asked him.

No, Shinjuro asserted.Absolutely not. Because not only did Zenitsu manage to woo his children, but somehow, he even wooed a criminal organization!

Shinjuro recalled that encounter with a deep grimace.

Just last week, ayakuza and his goons had paid a visit to his home one early morning, insisting on meeting his "daughter." It took Shinjuro a moment to realize they were referring to Zenitsu. What. Zenitsu was a man through and through. How could they have messed that up?

When Shinjuro tried to correct the mistake, the yakuza leader became enraged. A fight was imminent until Zenitsu chose to appear at that exact moment. Upon seeing Zenitsu, the yakuza leader immediately fell to one knee and proposed to him.

The expression that flitted across Zenitsu's features in that moment nearly caused Shinjuro to guffaw.

Never before had Shinjuro ever seen anyone display such a multitude of emotions simultaneously. Annoyance, disgust, embarrassment, irritation, and perplexity all danced across Zenitsu's features in quick succession.

Shinjuro almost felt tempted to let the scene play out. Just to see what other expressions Zenitsu would make.

But then, when he sees the yakuza leader raise his hand at Zenitsu for rejecting him, for making him look like a fool in front of his men, Shinjuro instantly saw red.

Shinjuro doesn’t clearly remember what happened after that one-sided marriage proposal gone wrong. There were bodies thrown, lots of screaming, and maybe someone crying for their mother.

By evening, the property was finally cleared of cretins, and Ruka had scolded him heavily later that night for not going overboard enough to teach those scumbags a lesson for daring to try to hurt Zenitsu.

Shinjuro felt as though ten years had been snatched from his lifespan recalling that ordeal. He pondered if this was what it was like to have a daughter.

Even though Zenitsu was not related to him by blood, or even his "daughter"—Shinjuro finally relents, he can see why the yakuza leader had mistaken Zenitsu for a woman— he must confess he has grown rather attached and protective of the boy.

Surely, this will be the first and the last time this happens, right?

....Right?

When Zenitsu looked at the calendar in the Rengokus' common area, he realized it had been two weeks and a half since he began his stay with the Rengoku family. He couldn't believe how quickly the days had flown by.

Now fully recovered, Zenitsu thought it best to leave the estate soon. His departure had been long overdue, and so, it unfolded like this:

While sitting next to the Rengoku family during dinner one night, Zenitsu cleared his throat to gain their attention. When he met their curious looks, his tongue tangled in his mouth before speaking.

"Tomorrow morning," he started, addressing everyone at the table, "I will depart." He announced.

A heavy silence followed and dragged on for a very long time. When Zenitsu gazed up, he felt compelled to explain himself after noticing their distraught. "Since most of my injuries have healed, I don't wish to impose on you and your family any further."

Shinjuro immediately spoke up. "Please, it truly is no problem at all," he insisted kindly. "We would be delighted to have you stay longer."

Zenitsu paused. How unexpected. Given his extended stay, he had thought his departure would be welcoming news for the Rengokus.Yet here was Shinjuro, expressing a sincere desire for him to remain.

It was a surprising turn of events, one that left Zenitsu feeling both touched and puzzled. Then, Ruka's next words caught him off guard. "Zenitsu-kun. Do you have a place to return to? Or a home?" she inquired.

Zenitsu was a bit startled by the question, but he replied with what he hoped was a steady, "No." He saw Ruka nod to herself.

"I see." She set her chopsticks down. "In that case, you won't be imposing in any way since this house is large enough to accommodate one more person," she declared.

It took Zenitsu a moment to process her words; but when he did, his jaw fell open. If Shinjuro's openedmouth were anyindication, Ruka's suggestion had to have been sudden and unexpected.

Was Ruka implying he could live with the Rengokus? The idea left Zenitsu feeling dizzy and bewildered. Why?

Hisattention snapped to Ruka again when she rested her hand atop his own.

There was a smile fixed on her face; it was a gentle, elegant, and loving curve. Along with it, her ruby eyes crinkled and shone with warmth. It was a striking similarity to Miss Shizu, who would wear the same expression. A never-ending flow of affection soabundantitsnatched Zenitsu's breath away.

"The children have grown to adore you. So have I and Shinjuro," Ruka elaborated, patting his knuckles gently. "In fact, we already consider you family. If you're up for it, we'd be delighted to welcome you into our home, Zenitsu-kun, just as we did with Obanai and Kaburamaru. Of course, if that's something you're not comfortable with, you can simply disregard my offer."

She paused to give him time to think.

"What are your thoughts on it?"

Zenitsu stiffened, and for a long time, he didn't respond because he didn't know what to say.

There was no doubt in the back of his mind that he wanted to stay. It was very simple, really, because Zenitsu was a selfish man, and he loved the Rengoku family very much. He couldn't bear to part with them yet; that was why he delayed his departure for so long.

But the Rengokus had given him so much already. More than he could ever ask for, in fact. They've helped him find a new meaning in his life, which had perished when Makomo had died. And brought so much happiness and laughter to his life, which he had never thought possible after the hardships he went through.

That's why Zenitsu needed to leave sooner rather than later. Because he knew if he'd stay forone more day, he would never be able to go.Butnowthe Rengokus were giving him a choice. A decision to make that could change his life forever.

Did Zenitsu deserve this choice, this felicity? Was it okay for him to be selfish?What if...What if this seemingly little decision had far-reachingconsequences? Will Zenitsu be able to go through it and look back and say hewon'tregret it?

A gentle pat on his hand pulled him from his thoughts. "You don't have to give us an answer now, Zenitsu-kun," he heard Ruka's voice assure him. He sagged in his seat with relief.

"I understand if you have other plans. But it has been so wonderful having you here," Ruka conveyed to him earnestly. "We would love for you to stay for a couple more weeks. At least until I'm done putting together a travel pack for you. Is that something you're able to do?" she asked.

Zenitsu nodded jerkily after much thought. He flinched when everyone suddenly hollered. After realizing the Rengokus were actually rejoicing, his shock ebbed away, and he ducked his head to hide the smile growing on his face.

"Rengoku-san? What are you reading?" He asked. From day one, Zenitsu had seen Shinjuro reading the same book several times, and his curiosity grew the more he observed Shinjuro's intense focus on it.

"The Flame Hashira Chronicles," Shinjuro replied gently before closing the book and turning to look at him. "It's a book that documents the history, techniques, and personal experiences of the previous Flame Hashira."

"I was just reading the oldest notes that date back to the Sengoku period, written by my ancestor, the first user of Flame Breathing, who explored the origin of Flame Breathing," he supplied.

Zenitsu sat before him after putting Senjuro beside Kyojuro and Obanai, who were all fast asleep after their game outside. When Shinjuro noticed Zenitsu's keen interest, he smiled and sat back.

"Agatsuma-shounen, have you ever heard of Sun Breathing?"

Zenitsu paused, the term ringing a distant bell but remaining vague in his memory. He shook his head slowly. Shinjuro's eyes twinkled with a knowing smile.

"That's okay. Not many people know it," the man said before diving into details. Of how SunBreathing was the first breathing style ever created. And how it became lost over time yet remained the foundation of all breathing techniques.

"Because no breathing techniques could match its strength, other breathing styles were developed in an attempt to replicate it," Shinjuro said before pausing, thinking.

"Interestingly," he continued, "practitioners of Sun Breathing were known to wear Hanafuda earrings, a distinctive mark of their connection to this legendary breath technique."

Hanafuda earrings... Zenitsu's mind raced. Tanjiro wore them.

"The very first Sun Breath user was named Tsugikuni Yoriichi," disclosed Shinjuro. "He was the most powerful swordsman in the Sengoku period, and a lot of people, including my ancestor, looked up to him. Furthermore, he was the first to encounter Kibutsuji Muzan five hundred years ago, and pushed the demon progenitor to the brink of annihilation."

Zenitsu's blood rushed in his veins at this new information. He was filled with disbelief and wonder as he requested Shinjuro for more information. "Can you tell me more?"

Shinjuro nodded as he put the book down and turned to face Zenitsu fully. "Yoriichi himself shared the details with my ancestor, who wrote them down meticulously," he began gravely before continuing.

"After the tragic loss of his wife and unborn child, who were murdered by a demon, Yoriichi happened to encounter Kibutsuji Muzan one day in his grief."

"When he recognized the demon as the progenitor of all demons, he alone among the Demon Slayer corps was able to corner Muzan and overpower him in an instant.

"Even when Muzan divided himself into 1,800 flesh pieces to escape, Yoriichi still managed to reduce the number down to 300 within mere moments."

Zenitsu listened, captivated at the sheer prowess displayed by Yoriichi. The thought of such a remarkable feat, of a single individual wielding such power, of a man facing Muzan alone and came close to bringing him down, filled Zenitsu with both admiration and a hint of envy.

However, his empathy for Yoriichi's loss outweighed these feelings.

He wondered, briefly, if the man reunited with his family in the afterlife.

"Despite Yoriichi's incredible feat, the remaining pieces of Muzan managed to elude complete destruction, slipping through Yoriichi's grasp. Muzan's regeneration allowed him to eventually reconstitute his form, but the encounter left a lasting mark on him," Shinjuro finished, ending the history.

He opened his mouth to speak again before closing it, hesitating. Just as Shinjuro finally made up his mind and was about to speak, a clap of thunder resounded, startling them both. When they glanced outside, the sky had darkened significantly at some point, and the mild rain became heavy as it pelted the roof with relentless force.

A wail broke out, emanating from Senjuro. When Zenitsu turned his head to look at the children, he found both Kyojuro and Obanai were awake too, clearly frightened by the sudden noise. Even Kaburamaru, sensing their distress, appeared visibly agitated.

Zenitsu shot Shinjuro an apologetic glance before rising to console the children. The interruption provided a brief reprieve for Shinjuro, whose heart was layered with ice from trepidation as he recalled his ancestor's final entry.

"Upon learning the outcome of the encounter, my confidence shatters like glass. A heavy sense of dread settles over me as I contemplate the future. If even Yoriichi-san, with all his skill and strength, cannot defeat Kibutsuji Muzan, then what hope do we and the Demon Slayer Corps have against such an unstoppable force?"

A surge of despair swept through Shinjuro as he struggled to maintain a smile in front of the children.

"Zenitsu. Come with me," were Shinjuro's first words to him before steering him to a room isolated from the rest. Zenitsu couldn't shake off the feeling of apprehension. Shinjuro had never really addressed him by his name unless he was serious. Was he in trouble? "I'd like to introduce you to someone."

As Shinjuro opened the doors, the room's interior was revealed. Zenitsu cast an inquisitive gaze at the figure seated within. Lavender eyes stared back.

"It's finally nice to meet you, Agatsuma Zenitsu," the child spoke. His voice had a soothing quality that eased Zenitsu's nerves without him even realizing it. "My name is Ubuyashiki Kagaya. I have patiently waited for this day to come for some time now."

Ubuyashiki? Zenitsu stared at the boy blatantly, pondering where he heard that name before and why he looked so familiar.As he willed his brain to work, he was unable to do so when Shinjuro suddenly seized his elbow. He was instantly pulled to the floor into a kneel alongside him, and Zenitsu duly noted how Shinjuro had never once raised his head.

"Please forgive Zenitsu's ignorance, Oyakata-sama," Shinjuro spoke solemnly as he let go of Zenitsu's arm. "He was unaware of this meeting."

As the realization sank in, Zenitsu's blood ran cold. Shinjuro could almost read his thoughts:Oyakata-sama?!

With a terse nod from Shinjuro and a stern glance, Zenitsu promptly averted his gaze, keeping his eyes fixed on the floor.

"No need for apologies. It's my fault for coming unannounced," Kagaya said kindly.

"My home will always be open to you, Oyakata-sama," Shinjuro countered gently yet firmly.

Kagaya's smile softened. "Thank you, Rengoku-san. You are very kind." Then, after a brief pause, he asked politely, "Would it be alright if I have you step out for a moment? I have something I'd like to discuss with Zenitsu-san alone."

Zenitsu's heart skipped a beat in fear.

"Of course." As soon as Shinjuro left, a hush fell over the room. The only sounds Zenitsu could make out were Kagaya's slow and steady heartbeats. It was difficult to tell what he was thinking or what he wanted from Zenitsu. Enough that, Zenitsu made an effort not to look up or break out in a cold sweat.

"I am sorry about what happened to Makomo," Kagaya finally said, pulling Zenitsu from his train of thought.

Startled, Zenitsu met his gaze. "How do you know her name?"

Kagaya's expression softened. "Urokodaki-san and I occasionally correspond through letters. He would refer to Makomo in some of his letters. That is how I knew her name."

Zenitsu flinched. Gratefully, Kagaya chose to turn a blind eye to this.

"I'd like to discuss your performance in the Final Selection," he began. "From what I've gathered, you cleared the entire forest of the 50 demons imprisoned there and protected all the other examinees."

He was being careful with his words, Zenitsu noticed, choosing not to bring up Zenitsu's berserk state near the end of the test.

"Normally, with this level of success, you would rise to a Hashira rank immediately. However, since you are not yet Kinoe-ranked, more experience and endurance must be gained first. Nonetheless, what you've accomplished is an exceptional feat for someone of your age and level of experience," Kagaya praised.

But Zenitsu failed to protect Makomo. How could he be proud of himself?

"Rengoku-san, with whom I've already spoken, also relayed to me how you rescued Iguro Obanai from a demon you slayed. He described your display of power as on par with a Hashira's. He is confident you have what it takes to become a Hashira."

But Zenitsu let countless of his loved ones die in front of him. How could he become an elite demon slayer when he's so powerless?

"If you can show me by slaying one of the Twelve Kizuki, then I may consider your rise in rank. However," Kagaya abruptly added, "I won't force you to partake in our ongoing conflict with the demons if you wish to withdraw."

At Zenitsu's perplexed expression, Kagaya elaborated.

"Even though you passed the Final Selection, I understand if you wish to abstain from further involvement after everything you've faced. But should you decide to press on and offer your aid to the Demon Slayer Corps, your assistance would be greatly appreciated. Nevertheless, please know the choice is entirely yours to make. What is your decision?"

Zenitsu stared at Kagaya's form silently for a long time. Given that he spent his previous life training and slaying demons before dying at the hands of Kibutsuji Muzan, the answer should be obvious: he would join the demon slayer corps. After all, hadn't Zenitsu already walked this pathonce? Hadalreadydetermined his course when he discovered he'd jumped back in time?

But why couldn't he say anything?

Then suddenly, Zenitsu remembered something from his previous life. How a little girl named Makomo didn't exist. How there were no Hashira named UrokodakiMakomo because: "You killed her."

In the end, Zenitsu does speak. But it was a cruel accusation, taking on a vile and repulsive form that festered inside him. As if that single assertion had given him some clarity, madness and grief sprang forth: "You. Youwere the one who killed her. You, you,you. You and your predecessors and yourstupidf*ckingtest got herkilled."

Zenitsu held back a scream.

"If you intended to send demon slayers to the battlefield anyway, why bother with the Final Selection? We were all going to die regardless! Yet you led those children to their deaths, trapping them on a mountain for an entire week with 50 demons they weren't equipped to handle! Even members of the Demon Slayer Corps don't face such odds! Are we nothing more than pawns to you!?"

"Makomo,she— she didn't deservethat."

A sad smile appeared on Kagaya's face. "I'm sorry," was all he said.

Zenitsu's anger immediately returned tenfold. "Sorry?How can you feelsorrywhen you're the one who—who—" Zenitsu was so angry he couldn't speak coherently. Even whilst listening, Kagaya still had a smile on his face.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry to have asked you and Makomo to do such difficult tasks. If I could, I would take back the lives that were lost because of my test, because of my leadership. I would have been like you, protecting others' lives with my own body. I tried swinging a sword, but it made my heart pound and I couldn't even do it ten times. It was impossible for me."

Zenitsu's voice died, anger dissipating. After all, what could he say to that?

"Zenitsu-san, your anger is righteous.If you believe you and the corps members are pawns, then I am a sacrificial piece too. And if a single piece, even one such as myself, who moves the Demon Slayer Corps, were to die, nothing would change. Because I, too, can be replaced by my own replacement."

At Zenitsu's stunned face, Ubuyashiki smiled.

"I can tell you've been through a lot and endured a lot, Zenitsu-san. And despite having to live with that trauma and anguish, you persevered and continued to protect human lives with your strength."

"Thank you, Zenitsu-san; you are a wonderful young man."

For a long time, Zenitsu didn't know what to say in response to that. He had uttered so many cruel and hurtful things, but he'd never once heard a hint of anger or annoyance in Kagaya's sound.

Instead, the child calmly received whatever Zenitsu threw at him, with a profound sense of understanding, remorse, sadness, and an undercurrent of so much hurt that hit Zenitsu with a force he couldn't ignore.

When did Zenitsu begin to stoop this low, venting his rage and grief to a child who did not deserve it?

What was he thinking when he called a childamurderer,akiller?

Hadn'thebeen called those things once in the past? Words that cut him deeply more than anything?

If anyone were to be blamed for Makomo's death, it would be himself. His incompetency and failure to protect her caused her death. But Zenitsu did not want to drown himself in that guilt alone and unnecessarily dragged someone else down with him.

But how could he do this to a child?

"I'm sorry," the words tumbled and sobbed out from him as he knelt at Kagaya's feet. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

A soft sigh escaped Kagaya, and Zenitsu felt a tender hand glide over his head, soothing his tangled emotions."Please don't cry, Zenitsu-san. I already forgave you," he heard him say. But his forgivenessonly served to make Zenitsu cry harder. Because even now, Kagaya has such compassion for him.

Kagaya's fingers continued to caress his hair.

In the end, Zenitsu joined the Demon Slayer corps. He intended to join anyhow.

The following day, an owl appeared at his window, bearing letters on its back.The missives hailed from none other than Ubuyashiki Kagaya.

The master had requested Zenitsu to draft a will, as all other members of the corps had done. Furthermore, the owl perched on his window was actually a "Kasugai crow" that was now officially his, and Zenitsu had the honor of bestowing upon it a name of his choosing.

Zenitsu stared at the blank papers sitting on his desk. In his previous life, he had only written a will to his master because he was the only one he had left, aside from Kaigaku.But who does Zenitsu have left in this world now?

If he could, he would write to his gramps/master again. And maybe his friends, too.But those people, those memories and relationships, no longer exist now, do they?

Silently, Zenitsu pushed the blank papers into a drawer and never looked at them again. Instead, he began drafting a letter to Kagaya to request more time. As Zenitsu wrote in silence, an unexpected and soft 'hoo' made him knock over his brush.Startled, he turned to look at the owl, who stared at him apologetically.

For a moment, Zenitsu gazed at the owl in confusion before remembering that this owl now belonged to him. Its feathers bore a striking resemblance to the memories of Chuntaro's vibrant plumage, and Zenitsu couldn't help but feel a profound sense of loss wash over him.

After a moment of contemplation, he whispered softly to the owl, "Do you have a name? Or a name you wish to be called?"

The owl blinked in surprise before shaking its head. "No, master." Its voice was resonant and feminine, completely different from Chuntaro's. "I am yours, at your service."

"You can just call me Zenitsu," he informed the owl before pausing. "What do you think of 'Kaguya' (輝夜)? It means 'shining night,' capturing your grace and elegance."

The owl's head perked up.

"Do you like it?" Zenitsu inquired with a small smile after seeing the owl's reaction.

The owl responded with a pleased noise, indicating her approval. Zenitsu smiled wider.

"Oh! Is that your kasugai crow?" Shinjuro inquired upon noticing the owl perched on Zenitsu's arm.

Zenitsu nodded with a hum, gently stroking Kaguya's feathers. "Yes, her name is Kaguya."

Ruka's voice chimed in from behind. "How lovely. Did you name her?"

A blush tinged Zenitsu's cheeks. "I did."

Shinjuro settled beside him, inspecting Kaguya closely. "I'm surprised Oyakata-sama gave you an owl. They're not as fast as crows," he remarked.

Kaguya's feathers ruffled. "I assure you, Lord Rengoku, I am the fastest owl you'll ever encounter," she retorted with dignity, her black eyes gleaming with confidence.

Shinjuro's eyebrows shot up before he chuckled, impressed by Kaguya's spirit. "My apologies, Kaguya. I meant no offense."

Zenitsu grinned proudly, feeling a surge of affection for Kaguya. "That's right, Kaguya is one of a kind," he affirmed, patting her gently on the head.

The children's initial curiosity morphed into open hostility as they glared at the owl, but a sharp glance from Ruka quickly quelled their impudence.

"Perhaps there's another reason why Master Ubuyashiki picked Kaguya for you," suggested Ruka after looking away from the children, expression softening when she addressed Zenitsu once more.

Intrigued, Zenitsu looked at her expectantly. "What do you mean?" he inquired.

"Owls are believed to bring luck and offer protection from hardship or suffering," Ruka explained gently, breaking into a small smile at Zenitsu's shocked expression. "It's likely that Master Ubuyashiki chose Kaguya specifically with this in mind."

Zenitsu fell somber as he remembered his last conversation with the leader. Kaguya noticed this and cooed quizzingly. Zenitsu shook his head and gave her a tiny smile.

"Ah! Hirojiro! You're here!" Shinjuro exclaimed upon seeing his kasugai crow.

The crow flew in and landed across from Shinjuro on the table. It folded its wings and let out a loud caw.

"Rengoku Shinjuro! A mission! Rumors of a demon spotted in Kyoto! Must head there immediately—caw?!"

Shinjuro's countenance was solemn until the crow's voice suddenly cracked. Befuddled, Shinjuro looked over Hirojiro, only to find the crow fixated on Kaguya's immaculate form. Oh boy.

Kaguya blinked in surprise when she noticed Shinjuro's crow perched beside her. The slight difference in their height made her look up at him curiously.

Hirojiro crowed delighted. He stretched out his magnificent wings, signaling his readiness to court. However, his joy turned to a scream when a hand smacked him away.

"You! You animal abuser!" He screeched at Zenitsu, who swiftly blocked Kaguya from view with his figure. Hirojiro got up, talons digging into Shinjuro's thighs as he flailed his wings. "How could you hit a small and innocent crow like me?! What is wrong with you?!"

Zenitsu remained stoically silent, his gaze fixed on the crow with a glower.

Shinjuro laughed nervously, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. "Haha, don't be so serious, Agatsuma-shounen! Hirojiro didn't get enough sleep, that's why he's acting so weird today!"

Shinjuro quickly restrained Hirojiro to stop the crow from attacking Zenitsu.

"I apologize for his misconduct! I'll be sure to discipline him later."

The crow thrashed in Shinjuro's grasp. "You bastard—!" He directed his fury at Zenitsu. "I'll kill you—! How can you deprive me of such bliss!Unhand me, Rengoku! Let me at him, let me at himm!"

"Shut up, you fool," Shinjuro hissed, his hand closing tightly around Hirojiro's beak. "Do you have a death wish?"

The crow continued to squirm in Shinjuro's grasp, but its struggles proved futile against his firm grip.

Zenitsu watched with a mixture of disdain and agitation.

Ruka observed the entire spectacle with a weary sigh, while the children, having moved on from their jealousy, now petted Kaguya affectionately.

Kaburamaru writhed uncomfortably under Kaguya's hungry gaze.

"A pleasure to meet you."

A tall man stood at the front gates of the Rengoku Residence.

"My name is Haganezuka Hotaru. I've been sent by Ubuyashiki-sama to deliver your uniform," he said.

Both Zenitsu and Shinjuro stared at the man in front of them. While the man possessed a commanding presence with his height and stature, his malevolent aura was unmistakable, causing a tangible heaviness in the air. It wasn't until Shinjuro nudged him softly that Zenitsu finally spoke.

"Um, it's a pleasure to meet you, Haganezuka-san." Zenitsu nervously pushed a strand of hair behind his ear as he bowed his head courteously. "My name is Agatsuma Zenitsu."

"I know," the masked man replied snippily.

Zenitsu felt Shinjuro's hackles rise behind him and quickly stepped forward to retrieve his uniform from Haganezuka before Shinjuro said anything.

"Thank you for bringing me my uniform, Haganezuka-san. But I'm curious," he began, steering the conversation. "Why did Oyakata-sama choose to send an esteemed swordsmith like yourself instead of a kakushi?"

At his words, the swordsmith's malicious energy diminished slightly, but it lingered, palpable and dense, thickening the air around him.

"Ubuyashiki-sama has his reasons," Haganezuka retorted curtly. "However, I presume one of them was to facilitate our acquaintance. As of today, you are my client."

Zenitsu's eyebrows shot up. Though he had never met Haganezuka before in his past life, he had heard some rather...interestingstories from Tanjiro. As Zenitsu recalled the angry letters Tanjiro received from Haganezuka, a wave of fear swept over him, and he barely suppressed a whimper.

"I-I see," Zenitsu finally uttered, his voice tinged with curiosity but with a hint of apprehension. "Then, I look forward to our partnership."

Haganezuka grunted noncommittally, his gaze lingering on Zenitsu for a moment longer before abruptly turning away.Shinjuro grumbled when Haganezuka's figure disappeared on the horizon.

"I don't like him. He's rude."

Zenitsu hummed absently as he rubbed a hand across his uniform. "Perhaps, but I believe his wounded pride stems from being tasked with this errand since he's a proud swordsmith. Wouldn't you agree?"

A moment of silence passed before Shinjuro relented.

"Ok, I guess I see your point. But still!" His brows knitted together angrily. "Is that any way to treat your clients?! The way he speaks just makes me wanna—!"

Shinjuro's fingers twisted in a mock strangling gesture, eliciting laughter from Zenitsu. Despite Haganezuka's brusqueness, Zenitsu sensed an unspoken respect during their interaction. Beneath his gruff exterior lay a kind and gentle spirit.

It was one of those nights Ruka couldn't join them for dinner because of her illness. Nobody knew how to deal with the ensuing pandemonium.

“Zenitsu-chan, will you marry me!”

Zenitsu’s eyebrows shot up as he turned to Kyojuro, mouth opening and closing. At the other end of the table, Obanai bristled, andKaburamaru let out a small squeak.

Shinjuro dropped his chopsticks and choked on the meat he was chewing. He forcefully pounded his chest with his fist, coughing uncontrollably. He downed the cup of water Zenitsu passed to him with fervor.

Slam! Shinjuro slapped the cup down on the table before turning to his son exasperatedly. "Kyojuro, do you even know what you're saying? You can't marry Zenitsu!"

Kyojuro co*cked his head, looking honest to god confused. "I don't understand, father!" he blurted out. "Zenitsu-chan is kind, beautiful, wise, and graceful! Just like mother! Weren't you the one who said to find someone like mother and marry her?"

Zenitsu's lips parted. He couldn't decide whether to be embarrassed or insulted.

"Plus," Kyojuro emphasized. "Zenitsu-chanwould make a wonderful wife! You and mother said so yourselves!”

Zenitsu looked accusingly to Shinjuro for an explanation.

Shinjuro grimaced. It appears the joke he shared with his wife has come back to bite him in the ass. “Kyojuro, it was said in jest—”

“So, why won't you allow this marriage! Are you not happy for me, father?!" Mortified, Kyojuro added, "Do youhateme?!"

"What! No! That's not it at all!" Shinjuro almost screamed, his words coming out in a rush.

A wave of uncertainty washed over him as he struggled to find the right thing to say. He dreaded the thought of inadvertently painting himself as a villain in his son's eyes or causing him to harbor resentment indefinitely. God help him.

"Rengoku-san." Zenitsu placed a hand on the man's shoulder with a sour face. "I'll tell him."

Shinjuro gave him a doubtful side-long glance. "Are you sure?"

Zenitsu deadpanned at him. "Doyouwant to—?"

Shinjuro gave a false cough and waved his hand dismissively. "My apologies. Please, continue."

Zenitsu shot him an unimpressed look before directing his attention to Kyojuro again, who was becoming increasingly confused. "Kyojuro."

The child flicked his gaze to him. "Yes, Zenitsu-chan?"

Kyojuro almost sprang to his feet, his golden eyes gleaming like crystals, filled with complete adoration and care. Zenitsu couldn't fathom how he had overlooked this before.Confronted with Kyojuro's evident affections, he felt his resolve waver. He glanced back at Shinjuro, but the man quickly averted his gaze, refusing to meet his eyes. He huffed.

"Kyojuro," he called once more.

The child leaned forward with a wide smile. "Yes?"

Zenitsu hesitated. "There are reasons why your father said you can't marry me. And I, for one, agree with him," he said slowly, carefully measuring his words.

The child looked crushed. "Why?" His lower lips quivered. "Is it because I'm too small?!"

Zenitsu's smile froze in place at Kyojuro’s remark. "Eh?"

From the end of the table, Obanai averted his gaze, cringing hard once more. Kaburamaru buried its snout into his dark hair, almost as if it couldn't bear to witness the scene any longer.

Kyojuro leaped to his feet and stared determinedly into Zenitsu's stunned eyes. "You won't have to worry about my height, Zenitsu-chan! I can grow taller for you! Even taller thanfather—"

"Wait, no. That's not the problem here, Kyojuro," Zenitsu interrupted him.

A heavy, uncomfortable silence settled over them.

"Then what's wrong with me?" Kyojuro whispered dejectedly after a while, baring his hurt and confusion.

Zenitsu wanted to weep.

"Nothing is wrong with you, Kyojuro. You're perfect the way you are, no matter what anyone else says," he admonished him lightly before wearing a conflicted expression.

"It's just...it's just that I'm toooldfor you, Kyojuro. And because—" A pause. "—I'm aman."

Apprehensively, everyone watched as the confusion on Kyojuro's face slowly ebbed away. It was quickly replaced by a shattered expression, as if the world around him fell apart and swallowed him cruelly and devastatingly.

Zenitsu couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt when he realizedhewas the one who extinguished the light in Kyojuro's eyes.

Zenitsu was troubled. Kyojuro had shut himself in his room; the only time he came out was when he was eating breakfast, lunch, or dinner. But the problem was: Kyojuro doesn't talk. His eyes were always down, and he refused to look at anyone. It was worrying.

Two taps on the door. "Kyojuro. Are you there?"

No answers came from the other side of the door.

Zenitsu sighed. "I'm making sweet potatoes tonight. Do you want to help me?"

Still, no answer. Just complete, utter silence.

Zenitsu sighed again and rubbed his palm down his face in defeat. Just where had things gone wrong?

Zenitsu called for an emergency meeting the following morning. He briefed Ruka on the situation while Shinjuro sighed apathetically.

"We all saw it coming," the man said solemnly.

He jolted slightly when Zenitsu smacked him on the shoulder.

"What do you mean! Don't say that!" Zenitsu's voice rose in panic and anger. "Aren't you even a little worried? What if he never recovers? What are we supposed to do then?!"

Shinjuro winced at Zenitsu's volume and quickly attempted to placate him. "Okay, okay. I understand now, so please lower your voice. The children are asleep."

As if suddenly realizing that, Zenitsu clamped his mouth shut, eyes wide before nodding.

Ruka, unable to restrain herself, let out a giggle at their exchange, drawing their attention to her. "You two bicker like an old married couple, sometimes I wonder if I'm really married," she said to them playfully.

Shinjuro's and Zenitsu's jaws went slack. "Ruka/Ruka-san!"

"Relax, I'm just teasing," she chuckled. After regaining her composure, she spoke again, "I'm sure Kyojuro will return to us at some point."So perfectly calm that it mystified Zenitsu howeasilyRuka accepted Kyojuro's attraction to him.

"My son is the kind of person who feels deeply. He's likely trying to navigate through his emotions at the moment. As much as we'd like to help him, I propose we give him space for the time being until he feels ready to talk to one of us," she suggested.

Zenitsu nodded rapidly in agreement, his gaze fixed on Ruka in awe and admiration. "Yes, yes, you're absolutely right. As expected from you, Ruka-san," he praised her.

He purposefully disregarded Shinjuro's glare directed at him from beside.

It was obvious which of the Rengoku couple had a more open-minded and understanding approach towards Kyojuro's situation.

...

..

.

Contrary to everyone's popular belief, the truth that Zenitsu was a man didnotbother Kyojuro. Instead, he was extremely upset of the fact that everyone knew this whole time but didn't even bother to correct him.

All this time, he had referred to Zenitsu as a woman. What a fool he must have looked to everyone, claiming he loved Zenitsu and proposing to him when he wasn't even aware of his beloved's own gender. If Kyojuro had done anything right at all in this courtship, it was simply embarrassing himself in front of his beloved and his family.

Kyojuro screamed into his pillow.

Zenitsu counted the days. Two days elapsed before Kyojuro returned to his usual self. The boy still avoided his eyes, but he would reply and linger whenever Zenitsu spoke to him.

Words couldn't express the instant relief Zenitsu felt. He cried tears of joy to Shinjuro and Ruka afterward.

The couple simply patted his back and exchanged fond glances.

He offered to take Zenitsu in as a tsuguko. If the latter agreed to it, he would naturally teach him Flame Breathing. Zenitsu immediately declined.

"What?! Why?!" whined Shinjuro, unbecoming of a Hashira.

Zenitsu stared at him wearily. If it were anyone else, they’d be blushing and bouncing on their toes eagerlybecausewhy wouldn't they? A Hashira had recognized their skills and wished to personally instruct them.

Rarely do people encounter this golden opportunity. It was a once-in-a-lifetime experience and honor that couldn't be turned down. But Agatsuma Zenitsu was different from those folks—he immediately declined.

Besides, he had already endured his fair share of training under the Hashira.Zenitsu was not eager to experience Hell again.

“I’m a forgetful and incompetent person,” was his only reply when Shinjuro pestered him for answers. Did Zenitsu just insult himself? Yes, yes, he did. Only if it means he could get away with this.

“You are more than qualified,” Shinjuro rebutted with half a smile. "You are the only person to have ever persevered through a three-hour sparring match against a Hashira. Therefore, you are more than capable."

"But I already have Thunder BreathingandWater Breathing style," emphasized Zenitsu. "Plus, you're aHashira. I can't possibly take up much of your time."

"I can make time for you during the day," reasoned Shinjuro. "And if Irecallcorrectly, you are still working on mastering the other forms of Thunder Breathing and Water Breathing styles, correct?"

Zenitsu nodded, feeling hopeful that Shinjuro was finally understanding.

"Well, have you ever considered you might be more compatible with Flame Breathing? With me here, you'll master the style in no time!" Shinjuro boasted.

Huh? What's this unexpected competitiveness burning in Shinjuro's sound? Could it be...

"Say, Agatsuma-shounen," Shinjuro drawled. "How long did it take you to master Water Breathing and Thunder Breathing style?"

Zenitsu felt horror crashing over him.

He flinched and snapped his gaze up when Shinjuro suddenly approached.

A surge of terror washed over him as he caught sight of the man's unsettling smile, prompting him to make a desperate dash for it.

He heard the man laugh behind him."Agatsuma-shounen! You can run, but you can't hide~"

Zenitsu's fear grew as he cursed Shinjuro under his breath, questioning why the man was so competitive with the Water and Roaring Hashira, and why he even cared—

Zenitsu shrieked when someone seized the back of his collar. He whipped his head around to see it was Shinjuro. The man bore a wicked grin as he co*cked his head to the side.

"Got you."

sh*t!

To say Zenitsu was surprised he mastered a form of Flame Breathing would be an understatement of the year. Particularly, thefourthform, which allowed him to defend from incoming attacks and decapitate multiple targets.

Shinjuro wasn't very pleased by this, but given that the same thing occurred to Zenitsu with Water and Thunder Breathing, he begrudgingly accepted the outcome. Zenitsu, on the other hand, still couldn't wrap his head around it.

See, Zenitsu had a philosophical thought on breathing styles. He liked to think certain breathing styles reflected the user's personality in some way.Every demon slayer he had encountered had supported this theory.

Like Kanroji-san's Love Breathing style, which reflected her vivacious and bubbly character.

Or Shinobu-san's Insect Breathing style, which revealed her sweet and relaxed exterior was nothing but afaçade.What a frightening woman.

Hence, it should've beenimpossiblefor him even to attempt Flame Breathing. Because Zenitsu knew—for afact—there'snota single passionate bone in his body.Yet, against all odds, he did it.

"Rengoku-san, please, no more," Zenitsu begged, panting, lying face down on the ground.

Shinjuro released a sigh. "Very well. Can you get up?"

Zenitsu tried to move his arms. Nope. He can't muster a single fart or movement. He heard Shinjuro release another sigh, a fond one this time, and walk over to his limp body.

When Shinjuro turned Zenitsu's body around, he froze at the sight before him. Zenitsu's cheeks were tinted a delicate shade of pink, and his disheveled long blond hair, now free, spilled and cascaded around him like a halo, giving him an undeniably erotic appearance.

If Shinjuro's eyes had ventured further downward, he would see Zenitsu's yukata had become loose after their training, and a pink bud peeked out—

Shinjuro immediately pulled Zenitsu's robes together, tightening them securely while ignoring the boy's protests. He pulled back after he was done, his complexion paling.

How perilous, he thought. People would certainly lose control over themselves if they saw this side of Zenitsu. Now he finally understood Ruka's pressing concerns.

"Must protect," Shinjuro murmured, ignoring Zenitsu's questioning stare, "must protect."

"Ruka-san?" Zenitsu's voice rang with surprise when he spotted the woman outside on the porch, her gaze fixed overhead. He limped over to her,no thanks to Shinjuro. "What are you doing here?" he asked her.

The woman smiled at him. "Just stargazing. What brings you out here at this late hour?"

"Ah. I just finished training with Rengoku-san," he told her sheepishly.

"I see. How did that go?"

"Like I got run over by a train, then the train backed up to run me over again, and a wandering bear threw me into a boulder for good measure," replied Zenitsu with a wry smile.

Ruka stifled a giggle. "You worked hard," she acknowledged.

Zenitsu sprawled next to her, sobbing. "Ruka-san, please tell that to Rengoku-san! He doesn't believe I'm trying! He was so frustrated when I was so close to mastering the fourth form but couldn't get the first one down!"

Ruka chuckled softly, patting his back. "Don't worry, Zenitsu-kun. I'll talk to him. Even the best warriors have their challenges. You're making progress, and that's what matters."

Zenitsu stared at her tearily. "Ruka-san!!"

Ruka laughed endearingly when the child latched onto her, grateful for her reassurance. Then she leaned in closer, her voice becoming softer. "You know, when Shinjuro and I first met, he didn't immediately fall in love with me," she revealed as if sharing a secret.

It took a moment for her words to register in Zenitsu's mind, and when they did, he pulled back, his eyes widening in disbelief. "Huh?"

Ruka erupted into laughter, tears clinging to her lashes, and Zenitsu flushed with embarrassment. How stupid he must've looked to make a goddess laugh.

"I'm sorry, Zenitsu-kun. I didn't mean to laugh," she apologized between giggles.

Trying to mask his embarrassment, Zenitsu managed a smile, appreciating the sight of her laughter. Once Ruka had composed herself, she continued with a nod.

"It's true. Shinjuro's feelings for me developed over time. When we first met, he saw me as just another civilian he rescued from a demon," she explained, recounting their initial encounters and how Shinjuro's kindness and gentleness had won her over.

She spoke fondly of his unique blend of strength and gentleness, and his willingness to help others, regardless of their circ*mstances. Zenitsu listened intently, leaning forward with interest.

"Wait, you were engaged to someone else before Rengoku-san?" he interjected, surprised by the revelation.

Ruka grimaced. "Yes, a nobleman in his late thirties. I was only eighteen at the time. I managed to avoid marriage thanks to my grandfather's support," she explained with a wistful smile.

As Ruka shared her story, Zenitsu couldn't help smiling at the pure love and affection in her tone before his expression darkened.

"I can't believe your family would go to such lengths, locking you in a room with your ex-fiancé against your will, just to keep you away from Rengoku-san," he muttered, his voice laced with anger.

Ruka placed a hand on his arm. "My ex-fiance never touched me. I defended myself and fled," she reassured him, recounting how Shinjuro had come to her aid that night. "My family had a reason to believe a swordsman like Shinjuro couldn't secure my happiness or my future due to his mysterious profession."

Zenitsu's anger dissipated. "Well, they're dead wrong."

Ruka closed her eyes and smiled gently to herself. "Indeed. Shinjuro blessed me with a beautiful family. First, Kyojuro, and then Senjuro, my two precious boys. And then along came Iguro. As well as Kaburamaru."She then cast him a direct glance.

"Youare family too, Zenitsu-kun," she told him, with so much conviction that Zenitsu could not refute.

He stared at her in astonishment as a rush of warmth spread through him. Then, he looked down, blushing.

"Thank you," he murmured.

Ruka studied him for a moment before speaking again.

"You should smile more often, Zenitsu-kun. You'd be quite the heartthrob," she said playfully.

Zenitsu's smile immediately fell.

"Ruka-san, please don't joke around like that," he said to her seriously. He recalled his first meeting with Tennoji Matsuemon. "Acrowonce told me my behavior was disgusting and unattractive. Then proceeded to roast me, saying he could snag more girls than I could ever dream of."

"I couldn't believe my eyes when it happened," Zenitsu added, mortified before turning to Ruka earnestly. "Please tell me, Ruka-san. Has womenkind's tastes changed?"

Ruka's mouth twitched. She tried not to smile, but she couldn't help it and burst into laughter in the end. Zenitsu laughed with her. After they had calmed down, they relished the peaceful stillness that followed with smiles on their faces.

In the days following, their gatherings became more frequent. Initially nervous when Ruka sought to speak with him, Zenitsu soon discovered they had much in common. As they bonded over shared interests in music, artwork, literature, fabric, and even poetry, he found it increasingly easier to converse with her.

Ruka had teased Zenitsu when she first read his poem, saying, "I didn't know you were soromantic, Zenitsu-kun."

Zenitsu blushed bright crimson at her lighthearted remark, and Ruka found itendearing.

It was a shame Shinjuro had scared off Zenitsu's suitors who used to line up outside their home, hoping to catch a glimpse of the Flame Hashira's "beautiful daughter." Ruka thought she would have enjoyed chatting with them about Zenitsu all day.

As the saying goes, all good things must come to an end. Zenitsu had learned this lesson time and time again until he had come to accept it without a blink. But he never anticipated that it would apply to his time with the Rengoku family.

It happened unexpectedly one day during their poetry session.

"Ruka-san," Zenitsu called shakily, hands quivering at his sides, face paling as he watched a thin trail of blood spill from the woman's lips after a round of coughing fits.

With heaving breaths that sounded painful, Ruka looked up at him, her visage worn, fingers clutching the white now crimson-stained handkerchief.She sent him a weak smile that tugged at his heartstrings.

"Zenitsu-kun," she acknowledged him, feigning casualty despite the pain she was in. "I'm sorry. Did I surprise you?"

Zenitsu stayed rooted to the low writing desk, his gaze fixed on her form, a subtle tremor coursing through him before he spoke.

"Please. You don't have to pretend in front of me," he pleaded.

Ruka closed her eyes after hearing this, almost defeated. Her eyelashes trembled.

"I'm sorry," she apologized. "I didn't mean for you to see me like this."

When she looked up again, her heart ached at the fearful and anguished expression on Zenitsu's face.

"Don't cry, Zenitsu." Her voice was soft and soothing as she gently brushed away the tears streaming down his cheeks with her thumbs. She smiled, radiating warmth and reassurance.

"Do not feel sad for me, my child. I've accepted my fate," she told him, her tone serene and accepting, "and I want you to find peace in knowing that I am at peace. Remember our moments together fondly, and carry them with you wherever you go. I will always be with you, in spirit," she finished.

However, despite her soothing gestures and words, Zenitsu found himself unable to contain his overwhelming emotions. He bowed his head, clutching her hands tightly, and wept quietly.

Zenitsu sat at the edge of the veranda, his gaze distant and vacant, as the first light of dawn seeped into the courtyard.The wooden planks creaked underfoot as someone approached, then settled beside him.

Without needing to look, Zenitsu recognized Shinjuro's presence. The man drew in a deep breath, his throat tightening before he spoke.

"My wife, Ruka. She's ill."

Zenitsu felt himself freeze up at the reminder.

"Shortly after giving birth to Senjuro, her health started to deteriorate rapidly," Shinjuro explained. "The doctor deemed it an untreatable illness. Still, I held onto hope, praying for a miracle, for her to overcome her sickness."

With a tremulous exhale, Shinjuro bowed his head, covering his face in despair. "But then, about two months ago, the doctor delivered the news that she wouldn't have much time left,"he confessed, his voice heavy with sorrow.

Zenitsu went rigid at the news.

"The children and I were devastated," Shinjuro continued, his voice thick with emotion. "When we heard the news, it was as if a cloud had descended over our home, casting everything in shadow. But the momentyouarrived, everything changed."

Zenitsu's eyes darted to Shinjuro in confusion and astonishment. Shinjuro met his gaze with a profound sense of gratitude shining in his eyes, conveying his appreciation for Zenitsu's presence and the hope it brought to their home.

"I didn't think I would ever see my children smile again after learning their mother wasn't going to live much longer. But I was mistaken. The children, they're smiling and laughing now, allbecauseof you. I couldn't believe it; it was like a weight slide off my back. I reckon that's why Ruka persuaded you to extend your stay, so your presence could help console the children a-after she's..."

Shinjuro trailed off, squeezing his eyes shut with a shaky breath. Zenitsu patiently waited. Shinjuro spoke again when he found his voice.

"Zenitsu, I don't believe in gods anymore. When I learned my wife was dying, I prayed to them daily and fervently for her recovery. But as Ruka's condition kept worsening, I grew resentful of the gods. I questioned their fairness, theircruelty. I asked myself, was this some sort of punishment because of something I must have done in my past life?"

"It was at that point I could no longer put my faith in divine beings I couldn't see. But thenyouarrived. And I saw how you helped me and my family, how you care for and love every single one of us, despite our brief acquaintance."

"Zenitsu," Shinjuro's tone softened as he held Zenitsu's stunned and tearful gaze,his own reflecting gratitude and sincerity. "Even though I no longer believe in gods, you are a godsend.I'm truly grateful that our paths have crossed. You are a wonderful child deserving of happiness. Thank you for bringing light into our lives."

Zenitsu blinked back tears, deeply moved by Shinjuro's words. He averted his gaze first when it became too much to handle the sincerity in Shinjuro's eyes and closed his eyes.

"Kyojuro."

"Yes, mother?"

"Think really hard about what your mom will ask you now. Do you know why you were born stronger than other people?"

"Uh..." Zenitsu heard Kyojuro trail off. "I don't know!"

"To protect the weak," answered Ruka. "People who were born and blessed with greater abilities than others must use their power for the world, for the people. Hurting others with your power, which was gifted from the Heavens, and soiling your clothes is unforgivable. It is the duty of the strong to protect the weak. Your task demands that you fulfill this obligation earnestly. Always remember that."

"Yes, mother!"

Zenitsu heard the shuffling of movement.

"I will not be alive for much longer, Kyojuro. But it was a blessing to become the mother of such a strong, gentle child."

A mournful and sorrowful melody filled the air, accompanied by the sound of soft weeping. Zenitsu's gaze fell to the ground. With a heavy heart, he closed his eyes and turned away, feeling the weight of sorrow pressing down on him.

The following morning, Zenitsu discovered Ruka had passed on. He was devastated and crushed. It was so sudden and unexpected. He hadn't even had the chance to say goodbye.

The doctor's words offered a small comfort, explaining that Ruka had peacefully succumbed to her illness while asleep, spared from any pain.

But her death left a profound impact on Shinjuro, who seemed to lose all sense of purpose. The man gave up on being a swordsman and withdrew from his responsibilities, leaving the children to their own devices.

Zenitsu could only watch helplessly as Shinjuro retreated into his grief, the life he once knew crumbling before his eyes, overshadowed by the loss of a beloved mother and wife.

A dark cloud loomed over their home.

Zenitsu stared at the letter in his hand. He had found it under Ruka's pillow as they were cleaning her room. It was written in her handwriting, and he would recognize that penmanship anywhere, having spent countless hours writing several poetry and short stories with her. Taking a deep breath, he slowly read the words she had left behind him.

"Dearest Zenitsu," it started, "If you are reading this letter, then it means I am no longer with you. As I pen these words, I do so with a heavy heart, knowing that I will not have the chance to see you again. As I reflect on the time we have spent together, I am filled with gratitude for the moments we shared, the laughter we enjoyed, and the bonds we forged. You have been a pillar of support for Shinjuro and the children, a beacon of hope in times of despair.I take comfort in the knowledge that you will carry on, strong and resilient, in the face of life's challenges."

Zenitsu ran a finger over the words, coaxing Ruka's voice from memory to hear the words as best as he could.

"I cannot say the same for Shinjuro, however. I fear that my passing will break him that neither you nor I can fully comprehend. His spirit is strong, but his heart is fragile, and the weight of my absence may be too much for him to bear. Would you be willing to smack sense into him if he acts up?

I understand if this is too much to ask, but it would bring me peace if you could be there for Shinjuro in my absence.I want my husband to be there for my sons and act as the glue that continues to hold our family together, even long after I'm gone. Could you have a serious talk with him if he falters?"

Understanding the weight of Ruka's request, Zenitsu nodded solemnly, reflecting his willingness to support Shinjuro and uphold Ruka's wishes. He continued reading.

"Thank you, Zenitsu. I respect your decision and trust you'll do what's best.

But before I go, I must share with you a dream that I had.

Last night I dreamed of a little girl with the most mysterious cyan-colored eyes and a beautiful family of six children. There was also a woman who hid in the shadows, endlessly weeping. No matter how many times I implore her, she wouldn't come into the light. I have a feeling she was the mother of the six children."

Zenitsu's blood ran cold. Could it be?

"They requested me to deliver a message to you, Zenitsu.They want you to forgive yourself, to stop dwelling on the past. What happened back then, it wasn't your fault, and they never blamed you for it. You did your best, and that was enough. It's okay now. They are at peace now."

Zenitsu made a noise, his hands trembling as he held the letter, tears welling up in his eyes and spilling over.

"Zenitsu, while I may not fully comprehend the hardships and struggles you've endured in your past, I've witnessed firsthand the love and care the children hold for you.When they spoke of you, their voices overflowed with warmth and affection for you. I could tell you are so dearly loved by them.

Though it may seem hard to follow their request, I firmly believe you can do it, Zenitsu. They wish for you to find peace and move on from the past, and I have faith in your strength and resilience. The journey may not be immediate, perhaps not even in the near future. But I have confidence in you, and I will continue to pray that one day, you will find the peace and healing you seek.

With warm regards,

Ruka"

Carefully, Zenitsu folded the paper, pressing it close to his heart as he cried softly.

The days that passed were like a blur to Zenitsu. Ruka's absence left a palpable void in the Rengoku House, affecting Shinjuro and the children profoundly. The house was simply not the same anymore.

The children mourned their mother deeply, their cries for her echoing through the halls even in their sleep. Shinjuro, grappling with his own grief, sought solace in alcohol, drowning his sorrows in its numbing embrace.

It waspainfulandunbearableto watch.

One fateful night, as Shinjuro succumbed to the haze of intoxication, Zenitsu took decisive action, removing all traces of alcohol from the house. Upon awakening, still under the influence, Shinjuro frantically searched for his usual escape, only to find it absent.

When he confronted Zenitsu in his frustration, he demanded answers, only to be met with the steadfast refusal of the young man.In a moment of unchecked anger, Shinjuro lashed out,striking Zenitsu across the face with a resounding smack.

Stunned and reeling from the sudden blow, Zenitsu held his cheek, eyes watering from the stinging pain that accompanied the ringing noise. His mind had not yet caught on to what just happened, but once he did, he stared at Shinjuro in shock and hurt.

The man's expression twisted in a moment's time, a mix of anger and regret crossing his face. Silence hung heavily between them, broken only by their ragged breaths.

For a tense moment, neither spoke, the weight of their unspoken words palpable in the room. Shinjuro remained still, unmoving, his visage stiff as if frozen in time. Then, guilt washed over his features. His mouth opened, closed, and opened again. But nothing came out.

In the stillness that followed, they silently stared at each other. Until Shinjuro looked away first and retreated from the room, leaving Zenitsu to grapple alone with his own pain and the echoes of their fractured bond.

Tension hung heavy in the Rengokus' house. Shinjuro's temper flared unpredictably sometimes, leaving Zenitsu and the children on edge.

Some days, his mood was bearable. On other days, he ignored them entirely. But today was different.

His heart thundered in his chest.

"Rengoku-san, stop!"

Ignoring Zenitsu's plea, Shinjuro continued to drink, his rage escalating until he hurled the jar in Kyojuro's direction.

Zenitsu deflected the jar and shielded Kyojuro, anger flushed on his face as he confronted Shinjuro.

But despite Zenitsu's efforts, Shinjuro seemed beyond reach. A fact that brought frustration and pain.

Shinjuro sneered at him. "Watch your tone,bitch. Kyojuro's still fine, isn't he? So, stop yelling! You're giving me a headache!"

Hurt climbed through Zenitsu until he was wound entirely in its bitter branches. He covered his face with his hands, bent his head, and took a breath, then another, trying not to cry. He couldn’t do this. From that misery spilled desperation: "Then I’ll leave."

“What?” Shinjuro asked, stunned. For a moment, Zenitsu saw something clear in Shinjuro's eyes, as if those words somehow brought clarity to Shinjuro's intoxicated mind.“What did you say—”

But the idea was gaining momentum in Zenitsu's head. “I will leave,” he repeated, meeting Shinjuro's eyes. "You'vechanged, Rengoku-san.I don't... I don't even recognize who you are anymore. So, the children and I are going to leave—until youstopacting like this.”

Shinjuro's features twisted in anger. He rose to his feet, snarling, "Acting likewhat!"

At his hissing tone, the children flinched and grabbed onto Zenitsu's haori in fear.When Shinjuro saw this, it added fuel to his anger.

"Kyojuro!Senjuro! I am yourfather! You wouldleaveme, like how yourmotherleft me?!"he bellowed, advancing toward them.

Kyojuro's face blanched at the mention of their mother. A wet whimperleft Senjuro.

A thunderous look solidified on Zenitsu's featuresas he placed a warning hand on Shinjuro's chest to keep him away. "Rengoku-san, don't you dare!"

But Shinjuro pressed on."Kyojuro! Senjuro! Your mother would be disappointed in you if she was stillhere!"

Kyojuro's eyes welled up with tears, and a choked sob broke free from his lips. Senjuro's cries filled the room, fueled by the anger and hostility in his father's voice.

Obanai enveloped both Kyojuro and Senjuro in a protective embrace, casting a disdainful glare at Shinjuro. When the man drew nearer and reached for Kyojuro, Kaburamaru lashed out at his approaching hand with its fangs bare.

"f*ck! Stupid snake!!" Shinjuro seized Kaburamaru in a chokehold, forcibly wrenching it away from Obanai's shoulder. Obanai shrieked.

"No!Kaburamaru!"

Shinjuro shoved Obanai to the floor when the boy lunged at him to reach his snake. With a growl, he raised his right leg to kick him away, but Shinjuro didn't anticipate someone to knock him over with a low sweep to his other leg.

He fell onto his back with a startled yell, then let out a guttural scream when a force was applied to the wrist holding Kaburamaru.

"Let go."Zenitsu's command took a second to register through the pain and forced him to release his grip on Kaburamaru.The snake immediately latched onto Obanai's teary embrace.

"Tomorrow morning," Zenitsu's voice declared firmly, letting go of his wrist, "I will bring the children somewhere safe. It's clear they're no longer safe here."

Shinjuro felt the urge to argue, to unleash his wrath. However, the sight of tears glistening in Zenitsu's eyes gave him pause, sobering his mind.

In that moment, he became acutely aware of the hurt and stress he had inflicted upon his loved ones.Seeing this, his anger subsided almost as quickly as it came, leaving him drained and running on empty fuel. He rolled onto his side, curling within himself.

"Do what you want," he murmured at last, his voice tinged with defeat and resignation.

Zenitsu gazed at him for a moment longer before gently urging the children to leave the room. He shuts the door behind him, leaving Shinjuro alone in the darkness.

"Thank you for granting my selfish request, Oyakata-sama." Zenitsu prostrated before Kagaya, his forehead down on the floor, pressing himself flat against the tatami mat as much as he could. "I am greatly indebted to you."

Kagaya protested. "It isnotselfish, Zenitsu-san. You did the right thing bringing the children here. I'd be happy to look after them until things get better," he said to him.

And the earnest and kindness in his voice brought Zenitsu to tears. Kagaya opened his mouth to say more until he paused and scrutinized him closely. "Your cheek," there was a calm and rising anger in his voice. "Can I ask what happened?"

Zenitsu instantly brought a palm to his left cheek. "Ah," he paused, hesitating. "Rengoku-san did this." And when he saw Kagaya's lips turned downwards, he rushed to explain. "But he was intoxicated when he hit me! It doesn't hurt anymore."

Kagaya's expression doesn't slip from its calmness, but Zenitsu could hear how his blood rush angrily through his veins, like a violent torrent. He swallowed.

"Zenitsu-san, I understand you admire and respect Rengoku-san greatly. But it doesn't change the fact that hehurtyou," said Kagaya gravely. "Cry or scream if you must. But please do not deceive yourself. Rengoku-san committed a serious offense against you. You deserved better."

Zenitsu sucked in a breath, clenching his fists so hard that his knuckles became white. Before slumping forward, appearing defeated and tired. A numbness settled within him."You're right," he heard himself vocalize dejectedly. "You're right."

Zenitsu ignored the pitying glance Kagaya shot his way as he escorted himself out.The children waited for him near the entrance as he was leaving. They gave him somber looks.

"Are you leaving us?"

Zenitsu bent down to their level, taking Senjuro into his arms when the toddler reached for him. "Yes."

Obanai frowned. "Where are you going?"

"A mission," he replied.

The master had assigned him to take over Shinjuro's jurisdiction since the Flame Hashira abandoned his duties after Ruka's passing. With missions piling up and no other Hashira available, he entrusted Zenitsu with the task.

"But you'll be in good hands," Zenitsu reassured them. "The master of this house is a very good person. He'll take good care of you."

Kyojuro's frown didn't disappear as he asked in a small voice, "When will you be back?"

Zenitsu gazed at the child with sadness in his eyes for a moment before gently rubbing the child's head. "As soon as I can," he said.

"You swear?"

"I swear," he promised.

Zenitsu let out an 'oompfh' when Kyojuro and Obanai pounced on him for a hug. After overcoming his surprise, he clumsily returned the embrace and smiled.

Zenitsu isin a strange place; he sits around a small bonfire, watching the smoke scatter in the air. He assures, briefly, that he must be dreaming, as he always does.But it is a peculiar dream, for he should be fleeing from his demons by now—but he isn't, and Zenitsu takes solace in that revelation. He is safe here, and the fire keeps him warm. But then—

"What is your family like, Zenitsu?"A gentle voice asksto his left, a voice so gentle and kind andfamiliarthat his lungs stopworking.

His head moves on its own,and when his eyes meet gentle maroon ones, his brain shutsdown.

Zenitsu couldn't think, couldn't move. Just stares, gobsmacked. Before realizing this is a memory. His hopes shatter.

"I don't have a family; I’m all alone," Zenitsu hears himself say.

"But you must have someone, right? Someone who cherishes you and is waiting for you despite our dangerous job."

Zenitsu thinks for a moment. "I have jii-chan.And maybe aniki," he adds as an afterthought. "Although I doubt he'd say the same about me. We have a rough way of expressing our affections. But I hold both of them in high regard."

Tanjiro beams. "I'm sure they feel the same about you," he assures.

Zenitsu hums unconvinced. "What is your family like, Tanjiro?" he asks. Though an innocent question, Zenitsu can tell it affected Tanjiro. "A-Ah, you don't have to tell me."

Tanjiro gives a forced smile and shakes his head. "No. It's not a problem. I'll tell you."

Zenitsu anticipates as he waits for Tanjiro to assemble his thoughts. His friend does not reveal much about himself; so, when the boy takes a shaky breath, Zenitsu knows this is a vulnerable moment shown only to him at the time.

Tanjiro begins to describehis family. How kind and thoughtful his little siblings were.How his father taught him the Hinokami Kagura at a young age and also performed the dance annually for good fortune. How his father passed away a month later, and Tanjirohad to take over his father's work of selling charcoals to make ends meet. Although they did not live a lavish lifestyle, they were happy. Content. Until...

"My peaceful life was shattered whenhecame to the mountains," Tanjiro says quietly, his voice thick with emotion. "I wasn't there when it happened," he adds regretfully, "I wasselling charcoal in the village, andit started snowing severely on my way back, so Mr. Saburo, a kind old man who also lost his family to demons, gave me shelter."

Tanjiro pauses, his shoulders rising up to his chin. "When I arrived home the next morning," he continues, voice trembling, "my family… they were..." A shaky inhalation.

Zenitsu reaches out and holds his hand, squeezing it gently.

Tanjiro’s smile—one that was appreciative yet held many unspoken sorrows and regrets—was the last thing he saw before his dream came to an end.

Zenitsu couldn’t stop thinking about the dream. If there was anything he learned about his dreams ever since he leaped back in time, it was that they either portended a significant event or someone he loved was going to die next. Which absolutely made no sense to Zenitsu right now.

Because Tanjironeverdies. Even if Tanjiro found himself in a life-or-death situation, just his sheer will alone was enough to kill enemies stronger than him in order to survive and protect his loved ones, even while withstanding severe injuries and wounds. That big forehead was practically blessed and loved by every deity known, and he was one of the strongest people Zenitsu ever met.

Moreover, Tanjiro ought to be at least 4 years old at this point in time. It was too early for him to be exposed to the world of demons and demon slayers. Because if Zenitsu’s memory serves him right, Tanjiro had at least 5 younger siblings before they were slaughtered by thatmonsterin winter. Which meant disaster wouldn’t strike for some years from now. So, there’s no reason for Zenitsu to fret about this dream, right?

But why did Tanjiro suddenly appear in his dreams? It just didn’t add up.

If somehow something happens to Tanjiro 30, 60, or 90 days from now, Zenitsu will never forgive himself for it. Because Tanjiro was special to him; he was his first friend, his first companion, and his first confidant.

Tanjiro was the reason Zenitsu was still alive, and his memories of him and his friends served as the driving force for Zenitsu to keep going, to keep fighting, and to keep looking forward despite hardships or grief.

A world without Tanjiro, or even Inosuke—itwon’t be the same.

It was a week before Zenitsu visited Shinjuro again. After completing the missions assigned to him, or rather, those originally meant for Shinjuro, he found himself with little to none to do, save for one thing.

Zenitsu stared wearily at the front gates of the Rengoku Estate. There shouldn't be a reason for him to return to this place anymore. It wasn’t his obligation to look after Shinjuro, and he doubted the man would even appreciate it.

Yet, Ruka's wishes echoed in his mind, intertwining with a memory from a distant past."Please tell my father to look after his body,”Rengoku Kyojuro had requested in his final moments. And, with that recollection alone, Zenitsu's resolve solidified as he passed through the front gates of the Rengoku's estate.

The once lively courtyard now felt desolate and forgotten when he looked around. Weeds had begun to reclaim the path, and the air was thick with a sense of neglect.He could feel the weight of his last memory here pressing down on him as he walked toward the main house, looking for Shinjuro.

It did not take him long to find him.The man was seated on the porch with a jug of alcohol next to him as he stared at the maple tree in the middle of the courtyard. When Zenitsu settled next to him, the man didn't acknowledge his presence. But that was fine.

Together, they sat in silence, simply breathing and enjoying the scenery. Secretly, Zenitsu quietly hoped that Shinjuro would be the one to break the silence first. However, as the minutes ticked by and the quiet between them grew, Zenitsu couldn't help but release a soft sigh, leaning back as he contemplated the vast expanse of the sky above.

Just as he poised to break the silence, Shinjuro beat him to it.

"Why are you here?" Shinjuro's voice was rough and hoarse as if the question itself was painful to ask.

Zenitsu stared at him, his heart aching for the man who had once been a pillar of strength and honor.

"There's nothing left here," Shinjuro added. "The children are under Oyakata-samsa's care, as you have wrote to me. So there's no reason for you to be here. You should leave."

Zenitsu stared at the man in surprise. He shakily took a deep breath as he realized something: Shinjuro was willing to talk. If he truly wanted Zenitsu gone, he would have chased him off by now. Something had shifted, something that could make a difference. But it was up to Zenitsu to seize this chance before it slipped away.

"You're wrong,"Zenitsu disagreed, with a firmness that surprised even himself. "I know you're hurting. I know the pain feels unbearable, and it seems like there's nothing left. But you're wrong. There is still something worth fighting for."

Shinjuro remained silent, his expression guarded as he listened to Zenitsu's words. But there was a flicker of something in his eyes, a hint of uncertainty that gave Zenitsu hope.Feeling the urgency of the moment, Zenitsu pressed on. "Your family needs you," he reminded the man. "Kyojuro, Senjuro, and Obanaineeds you. You have the chance to be there for them, Rengoku-san.

Shinjuro's eyes flickered with a mix of pain and doubt. "How can I be that man?" he muttered. "I've failed them."

Zenitsu shook his head. "You haven't failed them. Not yet. The only way you fail is if you give up now. You still have the power to change, to make things right."

Shinjuro clenched his fists. "I don't know how," he whispered, his voice breaking. "I don't know how to move on without her."

Zenitsu felt his throat close up at the memory of Ruka.

"Ruka was the glue that held our family together," Shinjuro continued, his voice trembling. "She was the heart of our home. Without her, everything fell apart."

Zenitsu swallowed hard, fighting back his own tears. "I know how much Ruka-san meant to you," he said softly. "And I know the pain of losing someone you love very well. But you have to believe that she wouldn't want you to fall apart like this. She'd want you to be strong, to find a way to live, to be there for your sons. To be the father they need."

Shinjuro's eyes glistened with unshed tears. "I don't know if I can."

"You can," argued Zenitsu. "I've seen the kind of man you can be. I've seen the compassion and the kindness that lies within you, buried beneath all the pain. And I refuse to believe that that man is lost forever."

He reached out, placing a hand on Shinjuro's shoulder, his touch gentle yet firm. "But you have to make a choice, Rengoku-san," Zenitsu urged. "You can continue down this path of self-destruction, letting your anger consume you until there's nothing left. Or you can choose to fight. Fight for yourself. Fight for your family. Fight for the person you want to be."

Shinjuro's gaze wavered, the walls around his heart beginning to crumble under Zenitsu's unwavering conviction. For a moment, there was silence between them, the weight of their shared struggle hanging heavy in the air.

Finally, Shinjuro spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know if I have the strength," he admitted, his voice tinged with vulnerability.

Zenitsu tightened his grip on Shinjuro's shoulder, his eyes filled with determination and empathy. "You don't have to do it alone," he said gently. "Strength doesn't come from never falling down. It comes from getting back up, even when it's hard. And you have people who want to help you, who believe in you."

Shinjuro's gaze flickered with uncertainty, his expression a mixture of fear and hope. "What if I fail again?" he asked, his voice trembling.

Zenitsu paused for a minute. "Then, I guess I'll have to keep smacking sense into you until you get it," he said playfully before frowning. He then stared at Shinjuro with silent judgment in his eyes. "I still haven't forgiven you for hurting the children."

Shinjuro flinched, guilt washing over his features. "I also hurt you, too," he whispered, his voice thick with regret. "I'm so sorry." He let out a shaky breath. "I'm so sorry for my actions that night, for hurting you, and for frightening the children. I don't know if I can ever make it right."

"You can," Zenitsu said firmly. "It's not going to be easy, and it won't happen overnight. But every step you take toward being better, every small effort to change, will mean something. It will mean everything to us and to the memory of Ruka-san."

Shinjuro's eyes filled with tears, and he bowed his head, shoulders shaking. Zenitsu watched him for a moment, then gently placed a hand on Shinjuro's back. "It's okay to cry," he said softly. "It's okay to feel weak. But don't let those feelings stop you from trying."

Zenitsu had never held anyone who gripped him as tightly as that man or who cried as hard or as long. It seemed like his tears would never end. He would tire and then start again. Zenitsu decided to hold him until he stopped.

After Shinjuro finally stopped, the man nodded slowly, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand as he looked up at Zenitsu. "Thank you, Zenitsu," he began softly. "I will try for my sons."

Zenitsu smiled, a sense of relief washing over him. "That's all anyone can ask for," he told him before pausing. "Besides, if you don't start improving, I'm going to have to start charging you for all the therapy sessions."

Shinjuro let out a surprised laugh, the sound rough and unexpected but genuine. "Therapy sessions, huh? How much do you charge?"

"Let's just say," Zenitsu replied, winking, "you can't afford it on your current drinking budget."

The tension broke, and for the first time in a while, Zenitsu saw Shinjuro's laughter reverberate with genuine joy beneath the soft, warm light of the setting sun, making him appear younger and freer. It was a refreshing sight to see.

Zenitsu looked up when Kaguya appeared overhead. He allowed her to sit on his forearm, waiting for her to get comfortable before she spoke.

"A mission," she relayed. "A demon was spotted in a mountain. Must head north."

Zenitsu couldn't help pursing his lips. What despicable timing. He turned his head to look at Shinjuro, who gazed at him softly with understanding.

"Go," the man urged. "I'll be fine. I promise to visit the children as soon as I get better. Take care of yourself out there."

Zenitsu stared at him in surprise before smiling widely. With a nod, he rose to his feet.

As he made his way toward the gate, a soft breeze enveloped him, gentle and comforting. It ruffled his hair and patted his cheek tenderly, as if seeing him off and bidding him farewell.

Zenitsu paused, his heart skipping a beat for a minute or two before a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. The gentle chime of the furin echoed behind him, ringing, singing in his ears as he set forth.