Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The morning in Tokyo is warm.

The sun shining on the windows of the buildings. Glistening and somehow annoying, sneaking through the small openings of the blinds of his window.

Once in a while, when I wake up, I find myself crying.

Tanjiro has sat up, struggling a little with the still numb weight of his body. His bare legs curl up and his back curves slightly forward. His fingers touch his right cheekbone. It is wet. With remnants of the involuntary tears that have come at some point in the night and that he can feel remain pooled in his vermilion eyes as he blinks.

I can't remember the dream I had.

Giyu has his bare feet on the cold surface of the floor of his own apartment across town. The collar of his pajama top is disheveled. It reveals a little more of the skin of his collarbones and neck. His messy hair falls around his shoulders. His shorter locks tickle his cheeks. Some are wet with tears, as are his fingertips.

He lowers his hand. He watches it carefully for a couple of breaths, taking in unconformably the familiar heavy feeling in his chest.

But...

But...

The feeling of loss lingers long after I wake up.

Tanjiro shakes his head trying to push it away.

He decides to ignore how it clings stubbornly to his heart so he can start the day as usual.

His feet direct him to the kitchen. There are plates and a couple of dry wooden chopsticks piled up on the side of the sink from the night before, the rubber gloves he used to wash them are hanging over it next to a couple of white hand towels swaying in the breeze coming in through the window Tanjiro opens before opening the fridge and bending down slightly to look for the leftover takoyaki from dinner.

He eats with parsimony while seated. He chews and savors the chopped pieces of octopus in each portion that he puts in his mouth with the chopsticks.

On any other occasion he would be moving his feet rhythmically to the music from his phone connected to the speakers on one of the shelves, but today he is in no mood for it. His face has involuntarily turned to the window, to the clear blue sky where a few planes fly overhead from time to time. Today he sees it as clear as he has ever seen it.

The wind that blows through the apartment is cool, it causes a shivering sensation in his body and Tanjiro can't help but think that it's sad somehow, lonely, but maybe it's just his ideas.

Giyu is standing in front of the mirror that has been left damp from the bath he took. His arms are folded back as his fingers twist the lock of jet hair that falls down his back in a low ponytail.

It doesn't take him long to leave his apartment after that. With his briefcase in hand, listening to the dull thud of the metal door behind him as it closes.

The city is as busy as ever. With the usual bustle of cars on the streets. The murmur of footsteps of people walking around him. The imperceptible whistling of the spring wind. The rattle of trains that increases the closer he gets to the station.

I'm always searching for something, for someone.

As he boards the train, Giyu is pushed to one side of the wagon by the crowd of people who are also there to get to wherever they have to get to. He stays in place, near the door and the small caution sign taped to the door glass.

His eyes scan the cityscape outside. The crowded platforms, the iron pillars of the station and the tracks of the other trains on the ground, but for some reason he finds himself paying more attention to the whole group of people waiting for the train on the opposite platform, moving his eyes back and forth between all the unfamiliar faces there, hoping to find... whatever it is his mind and heart are searching so hard and desperately for.

That feeling consumes me and I think of that day.

Tanjiro also has his dark scarlet gaze fixed on the houses and buildings that open up behind the glass door his body is pressed against, but if he is honest his mind is elsewhere. Lost in memories of eight years ago, when he was a teenager living out his days in a small rural town in the middle of nowhere.

When, one night, lines and brushstrokes of the most beautiful shades of purple and blue sky were painted in the sky. The shimmering trail, a long hair of striking colors crossed the night sky.

That day, when the stars were falling.

Giyu had seen it too. He had been dragged to the rooftop of his apartment building by Sabito. He was the most excited of the two, so he didn't hesitate to force Giyu to watch it together. He remembers that he didn't really feel like going out to feel the cold autumn air getting into his bones just to see a comet, but now he can safely say that it was one of the most magical nights of his life.

It was like...

Like seeing something out of a dream.

Tanjiro had seen it at the autumn festival in Itomori, the small town where he grew up. He doesn't remember exactly what happened before that, he only knows that his friends had joined him and that they had strolled through the meadow by the roadside, yet the image of the comet has been stored in detail in his head. It has burned itself into the back of his eyes with fire never to disappear.

Nothing more, nothing less.

For both of them, the memory is beautiful and, at the same time, suffocating. A bittersweet feeling in their mouths that they can't explain, but embrace anyway. As if it were something important. Something they must keep deep in their chest.

Something that has led them to look up on the other side of the train window, only to feel the air run out and the heart lose its rhythm.

Than a spectacular view.

Than a spectacular view.

Chapter Text

«Listen to me, no matter in what life or in what time, wherever you are in this world, I will find you again. »

The alarm on his phone rings somewhere on the futon. Three continuous beeps marking 6:31 a.m. wake him up, but Tanjiro doesn't open his eyes. He moves his body, rolling to the side letting out a grunt and taking the blanket wrapped around his legs with him.

He lies there for a few more seconds until he gets enough willpower to get up or until the light coming through the window becomes annoying enough. Whatever happens first.

He hears the sliding of the sliding door behind him above the sound of cicadas in the garden.  The smell of breakfast wafts into his nose along with the smell of the perfume his sister wears every day. He knows it is her who is now under the door frame. He doesn't need to turn around to confirm it anyway, as Nezuko's soft voice is already calling out to him.

"Tanjiro get up, breakfast is ready," she says, one of her hands still holding the edge of the door. 

"I'm coming...," he replies in a slurred, slightly hoarse voice when he finally opens his eyes.

Tanjiro straightens up on the futon as his sister's footsteps move away down the hallway outside the room. He lets out a yawn and brings his hands to his face to rub his eyes. His fingers dig into the skin of his closed eyelids, but he stops suddenly.

His fingers are wet. There were tears in his eyes until a few seconds ago. He hadn't noticed them, but he can't find any reason for them to be there.

He doesn't remember what he was dreaming, but for some reason there is a strange feeling in his chest, a thought tugging at the back of his head.

He stands still for a few moments longer, simply staring at the uniform shirt and pants hanging in the closet on the far wall.

I could have sworn I heard someone talking to me in my sleep.

There is the smell of fried eggs and black tea mingling in the air in the dining room next to the kitchen.

Urokodaki sits kneeling at one end of the tatami. Back straight, with his usual light blue robe and cloud patterns, his hair tied up neatly at the bottom of his head and his Tengu mask resting on the floor beside him. He holds a steaming cup of tea, cradling the pottery between his palms and taking leisurely sips from it.

"Do you want last night's fish, Grandpa?" asks Nezuko, sitting down in the same way. The reheated food in one of her hands and the chopsticks in the other.

"You can eat it yourself, dear," he replies, smiling. It's small, but it's a smile all the same.

There are footsteps approaching from behind the door. Tanjiro's figure enters the small dining room saying good morning to his grandfather with a smile that lifts his cheekbones. His pants and white uniform shirt are clean and neat. All he has left to do is comb his reddish black hair, but he will do that after breakfast.

"You've taken your time, brother," Nezuko reproaches him as she sees him sitting across from her on the tatami. A small pout protrudes from her lips.

Tanjiro doesn't look at her, he's taking the deep white plate when he speaks downplaying it. "I'll make breakfast tomorrow."

He hums a short made-up tune as he pours himself a couple of spoonfuls of white rice, oblivious to the deep, watchful gaze his grandfather is giving him. Analyzing his movements and the slight gestures on his face as if he wants to find something different there. 

"You are normal today," Hurokodaki says without looking away, bringing the rim of the cup to his lips.

Tanjiro raises his face in confusion as he notices that he says it to him. A small 'huh?" comes out of his throat as he tilts his head an inch, not quite understanding what he is referring to.

"You were a mess yesterday" adds his sister laughing in an obviously mocking manner towards him.

"What are you two talking about?"

But neither of them manages to answer him. A familiar, annoying melody comes out of the small amplifier on the wall behind their grandfather. Tanjiro looks up to see it, not bothering to hold back a frown as a woman's monotone, bored voice begins to speak. 

"Attention citizens of Itomori. Good morning. This is an official announcement from the Itomori city council about the mayoral election, the election of the committee will be held on the 20th of next mo-"

Urokodaki has unplugged the device from the outlet cutting off the message and leaving the room silent. Tanjiro inwardly thanks him by relaxing his frown and lifting the TV remote control to turn it on.

The first thing shown is a smiling brown-haired woman talking a little more enthusiastically about the headline written at the bottom of the screen. Next to her is a slightly pixelated photograph and the name 'Comet Tiamat' written in white letters.

Tanjiro forgets the interrupted topic of conversation. With mechanical movements as he puts his chopsticks in his mouth and eats, he gives his full attention to the TV screen, hearing about the comet that will pass by in a month and be visible to the eye for a few days.

"We're leaving!"

Nezuko and Tanjiro walk away from the front door of the house after saying goodbye to their grandfather; they cross the garden and walk down the stone steps to the main street.

Steady steps down the worn and grassy sidewalks in their cracks of the town. The neighboring houses on one side and the view to the huge lake on the other, with the water glistening in the reflected light of the rising sun. The summer heat still embraces the atmosphere along with the sound of cicadas, but it is less intense than a few weeks ago.

Soon they begin to meet more people coming out of their houses and moving forward, parting at the various roads, alleys and landings of the town.

Nezuko is smiling beside them, talking excitedly about the festival that will usher in autumn in a month and how much fun it will be.

Their walk continues, until at some point the familiar tinkling of a little bell is heard behind them above the sway of bicycle wheels on asphalt.

"Tanjiro! Nezuko!"

They both turn and stop. It is Zenitsu's voice that calls out to them, approaching alongside Inosuke, the two boys sitting on the green-eyed boy's bike. 

"Inosuke, Zenitsu, good morning." greet both Kamado siblings with synchronized voices and a smile as their friends stop beside them.

Zenitsu gets off to start walking beside them and soon the click of the chain can be heard again as they move forward.

" Well, are you the same Tanjiro today?" the blond asks after a few seconds of standing next to him, leaving him in the middle of himself and his sister. A curious, analytical gaze fixes on him.

"Yeah, did your grandpa exorcise you or something?" adds Inosuke. His tone of voice lets him know that the question is serious, but there are hints of mockery hidden behind it.

Tanjiro looks at them in confusion, cocking his head to the side for the second time today "Exorcise?"

"Something definitely possessed you yesterday!" exclaims Inosuke again, moving a little more flamboyantly than necessary. Inosuke's hair flaps over his shoulders as does the bicycle that threatens to send him tumbling over the other side of the bridge railing straight into the river below them, but he manages to compose himself immediately.

"Don't exaggerate Inosuke!", Zenitsu reproaches him with annoyance giving him a shove that knocks him off balance again. " Cut it out with that occult stuff already!"

"Make me Monitsu!"

"What are you two talking about?" Tanjiro turns his face looking for an explanation from his sister seeing that another argument is about to start between the other two.

Nezuko looks at him with a small smile on her lips. There is something about her that he fails to decipher and it only leaves him more confused.

"Brother, it's just that you..."

But her words are interrupted when they have approached a vacant lot on one side of the street. There are several parked cars and people standing around, but what makes them stop is the voice of a man speaking in a serene disposition on a small platform echoing down the twisting street over the loudspeakers.

It is Yoriichi, a man with long, black, vermilion hair and sharp, almond-shaped, carmine-red eyes. At that moment he has a solemn and reserved expression on his face. Lips moving near the microphone he holds in one of his hands.

"And above all restore the fiscal health of the town to continue with the revitalization project, only when that is achieved a safe and healthy community will be created!"

The group stands watching for a few more seconds, listening as people around them whisper about how it's obvious the man will be re-elected for mayor, some even say he was giving away pork to get the town's votes.

Tanjiro is the first to look away and keep walking.

If he is totally honest he doesn't want to listen to his uncle's talk and all the campaign promises he has.

Not that he is a bad person, Tanjiro remembers that at some point in the past his sister and him had a close relationship with the man, however, after the death of their parents they were not on the best of terms along with their grandfather.

Both Nezuko and Tanjiro hurried their pace followed by their friends, both with a crestfallen look hoping to pass unnoticed from the man's sight.

"Tanjiro! Nezuko!" they stop suddenly after hearing the stern tone with which he speaks to them. Tanjiro feels his sister tense up beside him as all pairs of eyes of those present there fixate on them. A somewhat noticeable blush builds up on his cheekbones "Stand up straight as you walk!"

Yoriichi looks down at them from the platform, with the same solemn expression and cold eyes ignoring how the people closest to him whisper that he is strict even with his family. Tanjiro purses his lips as their gazes meet bringing a bit of panic to his chest before taking Nezuko's hand and trotting hurriedly away from the place.

"In front of everyone..." he hears Nezuko whine with annoyance and a few tears in her eyes beside him and though he won't say it out loud, he feels the same way as his sister.

The air in the classroom is dry. With a present smell of dust and the sensation of heat emanating from the window panes next to Tanjiro.

The class has started normally since they arrived and he had to separate from his sister so that everyone goes to their own classroom. The teacher has been standing for a few minutes with his back to them, leaving them to hear only the click of white chalk as he writes on the board.

Tanjiro turns the pages of his notebook, flipping through notes from days or weeks ago without much interest until he reaches the next blank page, but something catches his attention stopping his hands.

'Who are you?'

It's a question written in the center of the page. The kanji scribbled with black marker are a bit large, they don't seem done in a hurry, on the contrary, Tanjiro could tell that whoever has written that has done it with caution, really questioning it.

He doesn't recognize the calligraphy, but it's ....elegant somehow and he likes it, curious as it is.

"Ocasus" Rengoku begins, finally turning to look at the students. The animated and familiar tone of voice echoes within the classroom walls. "It is the origin of the word 'Ocasus', everyone should know this word."

The man has a broad smile on his lips as he sweeps his gaze over the faces in front of him, some attentive returning his gaze and others focused on taking down his words. "Nightfall, when it is neither day nor night. When the boundary between worlds fades, creating the blue world and so someone finds something non-human."

Rengoku turns to note on the slate shaking the longer strands of his blond hair over his shoulders. "An older term is twilight, though some call it the golden hour," he continues.

Tanjiro isn't paying too much attention, his teacher has started to answer another question mentioning something about the magic hour, but he's hunched over at his desk. His eyes are glued to the notebook on his desk, flipping to the other pages, flipping through and looking for the same calligraphy, but apparently that's the only one that contains that strange question.

"Kamado!"

Rengoku's striking voice startles him. His head straightens causing the earrings he is wearing to jerk. His whole body rises until he stands up holding the textbook in his hands and looks in the direction of his teacher "Ah-! Yes?"

Tanjiro hears him let out a small chuckle that ends up widening the usual smile on his lips before he speaks " Oh, so you remember your name today" he jokes.

The comment ends up unleashing a wave of laughter throughout the room making the sense of bewilderment that has been building up since he woke up grow. He cocks his head and frowns just a little not understanding the mocking looks of his classmates on him, wondering internally how many more times he will make that little gesture of confusion in the remainder of the day.

"You really don't remember?" asks Zenitsu incredulously.

The leftover chairs and desks stacked under one of the trees in the schoolyard have some dirt and fallen leaves, but Tanjiro and the others sit there anyway. It's a spot away from the building and all the other students playing basketball or doing who knows what. It's a good place to eat lunch and escape the midday heat under the shade of the tree.

Tanjiro shakes his head at the blond's question and brings the edge of the juice can to his mouth. He feels his earrings flutter at his sides.

"Believe it or not, yesterday you forgot where your desk and locker were" Zenitsu begins to say without taking his eyes off him bringing his hands to his lap.

"Besides you behaved colder than usual" adds Nezuko next to him with a worried frown on her face "You didn't smile all day".

"You didn't remember our names"

"And on top of that you weren't wearing your earrings."

What his sister tells him at the end is what ended up alarming him. The unthinkable idea of not wearing the flashy accessories inherited by his father makes his heart drop to his stomach causing nausea to gush.

What the hell?

"What....?" He asks with an incredulous sigh and a hint of panic. His free hand has involuntarily moved to one of his ears, as if to make sure the earrings are indeed there at that moment.

"Yeah, as if you were a completely different person," the blond assures him.

Tanjiro can feel his sister's gaze next to him glued to him. Expectant for some explanation just like Zenitsu, but honestly he has no idea of what to say at that moment.

He bites his lip in a nervous gesture lowering his gaze to the now empty juice can. His fingers run over the smooth surface and the printed brand name of the soda for the seconds it takes him to collect his thoughts.

His friends aren't the first people to tell him he was behaving strangely; his grandfather, someone who definitely didn't joke about something like that, told him in a roundabout way in the morning. Nezuko had scoffed a bit, but she had seconded Urokodaki's words and now she looks really engrossed in finding out what's wrong with him from the insistent look she keeps giving him.

Plus, there's that strange question scribbled in her notebook....

His head lifts to look up at the sky between the branches of the trees and lose himself in the jagged shapes of the clouds above them as if searching for an answer.

He sifts through his head, between what is most recent and what is from a few days ago. Memories. Thoughts. Ideas. Something.

Then he finds that something.

While asleep, with a warm drink beside him on the futon, he remembers dreaming he saw a different place from there. Outside the window of his classroom or the train that swings by in the mornings; slanted, blue, dull eyes. Black hair. A city. That voice.

Maybe...

He finally responds letting out a sigh.

"Well... now that you mention it, I feel like I've been having a weird dream lately" Tanjiro says "A dream of someone else's life?" His voice is hesitant as he's not really convinced if what he's saying sounds believable enough or if later Zenitsu will think he's just as crazy as Inosuke "I can't remember it clearly."

His sister's gaze is still there along with Zenitsu's. They both seem unsure of what he just said because of the pinch that crosses their eyebrows for a second, but they let it go after a few moments.

"Wait... I got it!" exclaims Inosuke suddenly, raising his head to look at him with an enthusiastic, grimly grimace, which he assumes is a smile, on his lips " Those are memories from a previous life or maybe your unconscious connected to Everett's multiverse theory!"

Tanjiro has to hunch back a bit as Inosuke lifts the open magazine he was reading and holds it in front of his face. He guesses it's supernatural articles from the few images of spaceships he catches a glimpse of before Zenitsu slaps it away.

"Stay out of this!" the blond scolds in annoyance "How come for school you're an idiot, but for that sort of thing you're not?" he finishes rolling his eyes.

"What did you say!"

Tanjiro stands still for a second, leaving the argument between his friends as a background sound. What Inosuke has said, for some reason, has suddenly resonated with him.

Previous life. Previous life. Previous life, repeating a few times inside him.

Memories of a previous life?

Come on, that's .... unthinkable, right?

Tanjiro has only heard about it in movies and books. Fiction. Words like destiny or future were always associated with that of past lives, but for him it is something that is completely out of his reach. A simple boy like him couldn't even imagine such a thing.

He may have always been a hopeless dreamer who imagined himself living adventures and hunting monsters with a katana as a child, but he knows how to differentiate the fantastic and disturbing from the real and accurate.

Yes, surely it's just his ideas and Inosuke must be playing with him.

Tanjiro comes out of his thoughts shaking his head.

"Oh, Inosuke, did you write that in my notebook?" he asks him with the sudden idea that it is indeed Inosuke who has been touching his things. 

But the incredulous expression he gives him before answering him ends up killing the small hope of giving her any explanation to this strange situation.  "Huh? Why would I take your notebook, Tontaro?"

" Never mind.", a surrendered sigh and a shrug of his shoulders.

"But brother, you acted really weird yesterday," Nezuko speaks in a voice as uneasy as her gaze from the chair closest to him "Are you feeling okay?"

Tanjiro nods several times bending his knees and bringing them to his chest as an involuntary reflex. His arms wrap around them as his gaze fixes on a flat spot on the grass on the floor.  "It's strange, I feel fine."

"Maybe it's the stress," Zenitsu says, stuffing the last piece of onigiri into his mouth. His voice a little muffled as he chews the food "that ritual is tonight, right?"

"Itomori is in the ass-end of the world"

"Inosuke!"

"What, it's true!" he says again. This time stopping his bike and looking at Zenitsu with a frown "There's nothing in this town!"

Both Kamado siblings let out a small but animated laugh from their throats as they continue walking.

The heat has subsided along with the sun in the sky, leaving a warm blue color that will soon begin to tint the clouds with its swirls bringing an end to yet another day in the town. The September wind ruffles their hair as they approach the railroad tracks down the road with the smell of grass and pasture everywhere.

"I don't blame him, it's true it's very small and closed" nods Tanjiro, speaking before another of the typical arguments between their friends begins.

Walking on the train tracks worn down by the years, Tanjiro can only think that, for the first time, he agrees with Inosuke's complaints.

He wouldn't trade Itomori or all the memories of the place where he was born and raised, but he must admit that the place is just... boring. A small town in the middle of nowhere where nothing happens either.

Trains arrive every two hours at the small station, which is nothing more than an elevated wooden platform. Conventional stores and small supermarkets scattered throughout various areas of the city close at 9 p.m. all too precisely and it's frustrating.

There are no libraries where he would have liked to lock himself away to read after school or dentists to go to when Nezuko had trouble with one of her molars a few years ago; but there are two continuous bars that, for some reason, stay open most of the day.

There are no part-time jobs that he could get if for some reason he needed extra money. Nor are there many people to chat with. It's the same faces he's known all his life, and although there are several guys and girls his age, Tanjiro doesn't see them as possible options for dating, so there's no one to hang out with.

Although there are few hours of sunshine, Itomori's scenery is one of the things he loves most about it, especially at that time of day. The sunsets are magnificent.

Everything combines with the composition of the place, its traditional buildings and the surrounding mountains, transforming it into something indescribable when admired from a distance, as at that moment, still having Inosuke's complaints in the background and the last glimmers of light breaking between the branches of the trees.

Tanjiro fills his chest in a sharp inhalation, taking one last look at the distant pink colors until he stops with the rest at a small roadside space where there are a couple of iced coffee vending machines that, in all honesty, he could really use at the moment.

They each take turns using it by sliding coins inside, mashing the buttons and taking in the dull sound of each falling drink.

The silence they sink into is comforting and familiar as they bring the coffee cans to their mouths, sitting on the small wooden benches with the exception of Inosuke who has remained on his bike.

"What will you do after you graduate?" Nezuko's question rises above the sound of the cicadas and crickets that have begun to chirp among the nearest grass. His sister's eyes are lost in the smoke billowing from the chimney of their house atop the hill ahead of them. 

"I'll probably stay in this village," Inosuke replies boredly, crushing the empty can between his hands and then tossing it into one of the nearby dumpsters.

"I'll marry you, Nezuko," Zenitsu says, raising and lowering his eyebrows with an awkwardly flirtatious smile on his lips leaning towards her.

"In your dreams, Zenitsu," she replies teasingly pushing him away with a hand crushing his face. The blond lets out dramatic moans in response.

"Nothing special." Tanjiro replies at last simply. A quiet smile on his lips and eyes hard to read at that moment.

He doesn't say anything else and neither his sister nor his friends press him to answer anything different. They understand that things must be difficult for him at this time of year having to take center stage and the madness.

"You have to listen to the voice of the threads, when you braid them over and over again the emotions will eventually flow between you and the thread" Urokodaki comments parsimoniously.

The rattling between the rollers full of threads hanging on the sides of the marudai; the scraping and rubbing on the loom with the strokes of the rod on the joints of the threads to secure them is all that can be heard besides their grandfather's stories.

"Among our intertwined threads are thousands of Itomori stories."

Tanjiro and Nezuko wear a traditional hakama and kimono cinched at the waist and stomach. They are sitting on their knees in front of Urokodaki braiding silk threads on a wooden disk each. They have been there for about half an hour and are about to finish the kumihimo strings for tonight's ritual as they listen with pleasure to what the man relates.  

"Two hundred years ago..."

"Here we go again..." Tanjiro comments amused under his breath, knowing in advance what he is going to say next.

"The Haganezuka blacksmith's bath caught fire and burned down this whole area. The shrine and old documents were destroyed. This fire is known as-"

"Haganezuka's great fire" Tanjiro and Nezuko recite at the same time, closing their eyes and straightening their backs, but their 'graceful' posture doesn't last more than two seconds before they pull the strings taut between their fingers again.

"I still can't believe they named the fire after him" his sister comments with an imperceptible smile on her lips, feeling genuinely sorry for the poor man from so many years ago. "Poor Haganezuka."

Urokodaki adjusts the mask on his face looking at them with a slight smile they can't see before resuming his task at the loom.

"The meaning of our festivals is uncertain, it was lost because of that and only the surface remained" the tone of his voice changes to a slightly more serious one and to Tanjiro it even sounds nostalgic along with the splashing of the river running under the workroom they are in. "But, even if they are lost, we have to keep the tradition going. That's the important task we at Kamado Temple have."

Tanjiro understands this in a way.

For as long as he can remember, his family has adhered to the beliefs of the temple under his tutelage, long before he was born. The Kamado temple, or the temple of the sun god, has stood for generations, passing down the traditions and "the dance" to each firstborn of the family.

His father was the head of the temple and the priesthood before he passed away, Tanjuro was too devout compared to his brother Yoriichi. He remembers him in the snow dancing barefoot in the cold, giving thanks and paying homage to the god with choreography learned by heart.

Now that he has the earrings, Tanjiro will be the next to inherit the task of maintaining it since his uncle decided, hopelessly, to leave home and devote himself to politics.

But if he is honest he doesn't know how to feel about that important task. He could not answer his sister's question that afternoon because of the same uncertainty that his future plans bring him. Just thinking about it gives him an irritating headache and a strange choking feeling in his chest. Like the one that comes suddenly when you are desperate to repress unpleasant memories and all you want to do is forget.

Tanjiro decides to push the feeling behind because now is not the time to suffer in his existential doubts or to succumb to the pressure implicit in his grandfather's words.

His body moves. He is precise and millimetric, he launches into a new position and stops in another when necessary. Coordinated and familiar movements. His body's muscle memory is what guides him and leads him into each position, making him stretch his arms, bend his knees or balance in place.

His mind blank, he is only carried along by the dance along with the music coming from the sound system on one of the altar columns.

He can feel Nezuko next to him doing the same. The same choreography, the same steps. All coordinated with him and his own dance.

Both are wearing the temple costume, the traditional woven haori with flame designs and the white hakama underneath. They wear a mask on their face, not like the one their grandfather is wearing at that moment, sitting behind them on his knees watching them dance, but rather a white veil with symbols painted in the center.

The bells on the tips of the staffs they hold clash and jingle. High-pitched sounds to the rhythm of the movements. Their bare feet slip on the wooden floor and their earrings bounce from time to time dangling from their ears, with the sound of the pealing fire in the background.

Tanjiro first saw this dance when he was about three years old. Every first night of January his father used to dance to thank the sun god in front of the offering on one of the mountains. It was one of the many times they repeated it during the year; he remembers not understanding how his father could stand being in that freezing weather without freezing his lungs while he moved, but he admired his devotion and dedication to it.

Tanjiro finished learning it from his grandfather after the accident his parents suffered. Urokodaki's exact words were 'Now it's your turn' and he only remembers that he felt like he was almost suffocating as he stood still.

He doesn't know the reason or why, much less can he make sense of it, but as they near the end of the dance, with the final clanging of bells and ripping of clothes, Tanjiro can only think of how heavy the haori feels on his shoulders or how the wood of the staff burns his palms.

It's strange. Something even Nezuko doesn't know, but for as long as he can remember Tanjiro always had a reaction of aversion or rejection to anything to do with the dance of the sun god. His body felt uncomfortable and everything in him screamed a resounding 'Stay away'.  Intense oppression.

Fear. of. It.

He doesn't understand why.

It's absurd. Something that shouldn't be there but is and it makes him feel guilty. He's supposed to worship the sun god and the temple as much as his father or his grandfather; he is the spitting image of Tanjuro after all, but he doesn't.

He can't.

And for Tanjiro the worst thing is that he can't do anything about it, not when expectations are too high since, at some point in the future, he will be the new head of the priesthood and the tradition he already carried hanging from his shoulders will be thrust upon him once and for all.

So Tanjiro must swallow the knot of his emotions, he must deal with all the uninvited feelings of dread about it as he has been doing since who-knows-how-long.

That's why he prefers to let his mind go blank and dance mechanically, because that way his brain can somehow block out everything the dance means and he can finish without having a panic attack before he gets to the end or he will surely end up throwing up the moment he has to spit out the rice to make the sake.

"Easy Nezuko" Tanjiro says with a calm smile closing the sliding door behind him. His eyes land on his sister a few steps ahead. She lets out frustrated babbles about how embarrassing it was to do kuchikamisake in front of everyone while her eyes are glued to the folded clothes in her hands. "What does it matter if the kids at school saw you?"

"I envy your lack of concern as a senior," his sister barks, annoyed, and shoots him a withering glare before turning around and walking away at a snail's pace.

Tanjiro follows her until she catches up to him and continues walking. It is very late, perhaps past midnight because of the silence and darkness surrounding the temple. Above them, in the view interrupted by the tops of some trees is a wide clear sky, filled with flickering white dots.

"I'm sick of this place" says Nezuko suddenly breaking the silence in which only their steps can be heard on the cobblestones of the road and the chirping of crickets among the trees.

"Nezuko..."

She doesn't hear him, she steps forward, descending the stairs two at a time until she reaches the landing and stands between the columns of the Zen entrance.

She takes a big breath of air before exclaiming loudly towards the town. Hunching her upper body forward a bit and pressing her clothes to her chest.

"I hate this town! I hate this life!" her words echo in the distance, bouncing between the houses and forest around them. "I want to be a handsome boy from Tokyo in my next life!"

Tanjiro knows that a few tears of frustration are building up in his sister's eyes. He doesn't need to see it, as it's easy to deduce it from her tone of voice, just as it's easy for him to empathize with her.

He's not going to say it out loud. He's not going to admit it, and if anyone ever asks him, he'll flatly deny it.

But...

If what Inosuke said about past lives is true, I too hope to wake up and be a handsome boy in Tokyo.

Chapter Text

'I ask you to allow Tanjiro and his sister to travel together. Thanks to her mental fortitude, Nezuko has not lost her human reason. Even if she was starving, she has never eaten a human and that has been the case for more than two years after. Although the situation may seem outlandish, it is, in fact, the reality. In case Nezuko attacks another human, I myself, as well as, Tanjiro Kamado and Giyu Tomioka, will take responsibility by going to seppuku.'

Tanjiro could only hold his breath as the girl next to the master finished speaking, her smile unperturbed, wrapping the letter in her hands again.

Almost reflexively, even though his face was glued to the stones on the floor that almost pierced the skin on his cheek thanks to Sanemi's pushing, his gaze immediately traveled to Giyu at the end of the row of all the other pillars.

To his profile. To his unwavering expression and the dull blue eyes, he remembered, this time fixed on some spot on the ground in front of him.

Tanjiro could hear his own heart bouncing in his ears very loudly and a warm feeling settling in his chest. He no longer cared about the pain in his ribs or the endless fatigue in his muscles, for his attention was on him.

The man who had given them another chance years ago. The man who had finished off the demon Rui on the mountain immediately and without batting an eye. The man who had saved them. The man who had promised to give his life for his sister's sake.

For a second he was overwhelmed, one might even say moved, to the point where tears came out and slid down the curvature of his nose. In the silence that formed until Sanemi spoke again, Tanjiro could only think of how amazing Tomioka-san was, and how much he admired that man.

Tanjiro lets out a grunt, dulling for a second the sound of the alarm ringing somewhere behind him, and letting go of those last remnants of whatever dream he was having.

He shifts, sinking his face into the pillow, inhaling the pleasant scent it gives off. His arm lazily stretches out a couple of inches looking for his phone to turn off the annoying alarm clock, but there is only emptiness on one side.

His eyelids tighten finding it odd for a moment, but only for a moment until his brain eventually wakes up, and he finally notices that the alarm on the phone is not the usual familiar sound and he doesn't recognize the scent of the pillow.

Tanjiro rolls forward trusting that the futon will be there to greet him, but an exasperated sound comes out of his mouth as he falls to the floor with a thud taking with him the sheet that ends up falling on top of him.

He lies still for a couple of breaths, letting out a few pained groans from the hit until he is able to sit up straight. The sheet slides down to his lap and he can finally see where he is.

It's a small room. Gray walls with a pair of windows, one in front of him and one to his left that lets in the morning light. In the corner is an almost empty bookcase, with only a few notebooks and a stereo on the lower shelves.

On another wall are pencil sketches of buildings and a couple of still lifes made of what looks like charcoal taped up. To his right is a cluttered desk full of papers with a silver lamp and a mug that he assumes is empty.

Yeah, this is definitely not his room.

"Where...?", but he pauses before continuing to speak and his hand goes to his own neck as he notices that....his voice is much deeper than normal.

Something tingles against the bare skin there and his hand. It is hair, long jet hair that falls a little below his shoulders, with the typical morning tangle at the ends. He touches it gently, it's soft and gives off a rather pleasant smell that, for some strange reason, reminds him of water.

Tanjiro gets up somewhat hurriedly, stumbling halfway through with the sheet in his lap and heads for the door behind him that he hopes will lead him out of the room.

He steps out into the hallway; it's not as narrow, but not as wide as the ones in his house either. Wooden floor and gray walls just like the room, they are empty, there are no portrait frames or pictures in them and, from the boxes stacked on the floor a few feet away from him, Tanjiro assumes that whoever lives here has just moved in.

He shakes his head and heads for the nearest door, which, to his luck, ends up being the bathroom, which smells like lemon and has a few more things in it compared to the rest he's seen.

There is a mirror over the sink and in it, where Tanjiro is supposed to be reflected, with his vermilion hair, birthmark on his forehead and round face, is another person.

It's a young man maybe a couple of years older than he is; pale, almost porcelain skin; elongated deep blue eyes under thin eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Tanjiro had not realized until that moment that he was wearing his torso naked, revealing the few marked muscles and his slender figure.

But, without a doubt, what is most striking is his long jet-black hair, whose shorter locks frame his face attractively.

His hands go up to his forehead searching uselessly for his very characteristic mark, then down to his cheeks, touching them cautiously, running his fingers over the most marked features such as the nose and cheekbones.

This guy...

He looks strangely... familiar.

As if he's seen this person before, but at the moment his brain doesn't have the capacity to decipher where, or when as he's too busy figuring out why the hell he has this face.

As he blinks, the image in the mirror seems to change to one where he is wearing a strange dual haori. It is perhaps for a couple of seconds until he feels a sudden stab of pain shoot through his head. He lets out a low moan touching his forehead. A few more breaths until the pain goes away and when he looks at his reflection again, it is back to normal.

But Tanjiro doesn't have time to wonder what that was as his shoulders twitch as a new voice speaks from outside the bathroom making him turn around. "Giyu!" it seems to be another boy, with an animated tone and a certain friendly touch "Are you awake already?"

Tanjiro doubts for a second wondering if that's this person's name before answering "Y-yes!"

His feet hesitantly direct him out of the bathroom and all the way down the hallway where the murmur of music on a radio can be heard along with the aroma of breakfast.

The whole place is very different compared to his home in Itomori.

As in the rest of the house, there are open cardboard boxes on the kitchen counter from which protrude crystal glasses wrapped in newspaper; plus a few suitcases stacked in a corner of the dining room he enters.

On the opposite wall there are sliding glass doors, the blinds that cover them are open and let in the sun's rays, giving a view of a seemingly urban landscape.

There are bags of unpacked groceries on another dark wooden table, and there, with his back to the dining room entrance, is another boy who turns his back to look at him when he senses his presence.

His skin is fair; on the right cheek of his face, from the right corner of his mouth to his ear is a large, pronounced scar; kind, feline eyes of a grayish lavender color; thick, spiky, peach-colored hair, reaching to his shoulders and a messy, sideways micro fringe over the left side of his forehead.

"Did you fall asleep again?" he asks in a mocking voice with a raised eyebrow. "You promised to make breakfast."

Tanjiro feels a slight panic and can't help but shrink much more in his timid posture behind the door frame at the thought that this person, who he assumes is called Giyu, had responsibilities to fulfill, but because of him he couldn't do them.

Well, it's not like Tanjiro was doing this on purpose because even he doesn't understand what's going on, but he can't help but feel bad about it anyway.

"I-I" his voice comes out in a nervous stutter not knowing what to reply. Startled still by the lower tone heard in it.

The mocking expression of the boy in front of him disappears then. He watches him carefully for a few seconds. He looks curious and surprised for some reason as he analyzes him from head to toe.

"Don't worry," he says simply at last, shrugging his shoulders and turning around again. The chair is pushed back as he gestures to get up and pick up the dishes he was using. "Go get dressed we're going to be late."

Tanjiro watches him walk towards the small kitchen without another word, so he opts to retrace his steps and escape into the room he got up from in a bit of a hurry.

The door closes a little harder than he would have liked as he pushes the weight of his body against it. He lies still, concentrating only on the slow, mechanical descent of his bare chest with each breath, and with a single thought that seems to make sense of it all.

What a strange dream.

Tanjiro startles again when he hears an ephemeral notification ring. It comes from the phone lying face down on the floor, its illuminated screen reflecting off the wood.

He approaches cautiously. Hesitating whether to check and invade Giyu's privacy or if he should just ignore it.

Tanjiro swallows thickly before grabbing the phone by the edges strangely, holding it as if it has a mouth and is going to bite him or something.

The screen hasn't turned off, it's locked, and it does indeed have a message notification. The little green box from the Line app with a name and text underneath with an exaggerated amount of star emojis.

From Tengen:

I'll see you after class!

You still owe me that lunch lmao

Tanjiro watches the notification until the screen goes black again. Now, with a new sense of bewilderment, his gaze sweeps around the room again wondering who the hell Tengen is and why he owes him lunch.

When Tanjiro leaves the room fully dressed, the other boy is waiting for him in front of the door. He already has his shoes on and looks up from his phone when he hears him approach, giving a warm smile before putting it away and turning around.

Tanjiro has no choice but to follow him, tightening the strap of the bag in his hand, pursing his lips in a nervous gesture that he manages to conceal as he approaches the low wooden shelf where only one pair of shoes remains.

Outside, the daylight dazzles his eyes for an initial couple of seconds until he can get used to it, receiving a fleeting gust of wind that stirs the lumpy jet hair he has.

Now he can stop and really contemplate the site outside the windows that he had only glimpsed a few minutes ago.

There is a small grove of trees separating the apartment complex from the buildings in the distance. Small. Mid-sized. Big. They vary in size and design, with antennae on their roofs and their window panes flashing.

A red and white tower whose tip rises into a clear sky of beautiful azure blue. Tanjiro recognizes that tower.

The other boy has begun to walk away down the corridor, and although his own feet have also begun to move, his eyes remain glued to the landscape that as the seconds pass makes the idea that he is.... in Tokyo more and more real.

I am in Tokyo...

He ends up taking a strong breath of air, swallowing the urge to scream from the excitement before turning the corner towards the stairs.

The noise of the city becomes more and more present as they approach the second floor; the hum of cars driving by; the continuous Tap, Tap, Tap of people's footsteps and the unintelligible murmur of their conversations.

Everything increases the further they go down the sidewalk now and Tanjiro soon reaffirms to himself how different this place is from Itomori.

A few birds fly between the billboards and buildings. From one of them protrudes a large screen displaying the current music rankings and the weather temperature of the day, not to mention all the gigantic advertisements for products of which Kamado has no idea what half of them are for.

There are too many people, hundreds and hundreds of people walking in all directions and Tanjiro has to pick up his pace so as not to stray from the other guy or he knows he'll end up lost when he stops to look at some macarons and cakes displayed in the window of a pastry shop. 

But honestly, he can't help it. His curiosity seems like that of a small child admiring everything for the first time. Discovering a world that only the night before seemed too far away and unreachable.

But now... he is here.

He really is here, in Tokyo, though the circumstances and the why are still too strange. It may all be an all too vivid dream of his heart's greatest desires or ideas implanted by his sister. Whatever it is, Tanjiro is willing to enjoy this new air, this change of environment that lightens his back and comforts him somehow.

Anyway, it's not like he's complaining about his current appearance. This Giyu guy is handsome, very handsome, he must admit that.

Up to this point Tanjiro had been walking blindly, just following the guy with a friendly smile whose name he doesn't know without really knowing where they were going, but he didn't expect to arrive at a university!

Although it makes sense considering Giyu's appearance, but he felt panic the moment he passed between the pillars of the main entrance of the place anyway.

It's all too strange. It's even intimidating.

Tanjiro is only a few months away from graduating from high school, but because of his commitment to the Kamado temple he didn't really think about going to college, so now standing on a huge campus full of people and teachers and not knowing where the hell to go or how to operate from this point causes him a sense of dread that only increases as the seconds pass that he stands next to the other boy on the campus sidewalk.

This is more complicated than I thought....

What is Giyu studying anyway? Has he picked up the right bag before leaving the apartment? Will he have enough money to buy that lunch? Where should he go now? Where is his classroom?

He's sure he doesn't know anything about whatever it is Giyu is studying, what if it affects his grades?

Oh god, what if he fails something because of him?

Tanjiro doesn't consider himself a nervous person at all; much less someone who overthinks things, but the uninvited scenarios running through his head for fear of somehow damaging Giyu's college life are upsetting him more than he'd like.

Maybe Zenitsu's nervous energy is contagious and followed him here.

"Hey" Tanjiro blinks coming back to reality when he hears the other's voice addressing him. He looks straight at him "I'm going back to my place after class, do you still need help unpacking?"

Tanjiro assumes he's referring to all the boxes he saw piled up throughout the apartment. Honestly the idea of digging through someone else's belongings, a complete stranger, and then trying to fit them along the length of the place, makes him feel a little, very uncomfortable. Tanjiro quickly denies; the loose hair tickles his neck and chin.

"Okay," the other accepts without further ado "but please eat something before going to bed" more than a request, what he tells him seems like an order accompanied by a sincere smile that stretches the scar on his cheek.

Tanjiro nods a couple of times wondering if perhaps Giyu has been skipping meals.

The boy in front of him watches him, with the same curious expression as in the morning. Attentive, as if he's looking for something in him. Tanjiro isn't sure what.

"Are you okay?" he then asks turning his whole body until he is fully facing him. "You're not acting like your usual Giyu self."

Tanjiro startles a little, cursing internally for making the nice guy worry by not knowing enough about Giyu.

He just shakes his head and the only thing that comes out of his mouth is a very unsure "I'm fine."

The other boy says nothing for a few very long seconds. He just looks on, doubtful, searching for the lie in his words. Tanjiro hopes he doesn't notice how he stirs somewhat uncomfortably under his gaze.

Finally, he lets out a heavy sigh, laden with obvious resignation, before settling the weight of his backpack on his shoulders. "I'm off then," he waves goodbye with a wave of his hand and a final smile before turning and facing away from him.

"H-have a nice day!" the words leave his mouth before he can stop them, perhaps out of habit of always saying goodbye to his sister that way.

But, to his surprise, the boy stops dead in his tracks and begins to turn around with torturous slowness once again. He doesn't face him completely, but he looks at him and the expression he has shows clear disbelief and surprise; as if he has grown a third eye on his face or as if that is the first time he is hearing those words coming out of Giyu's mouth.

The silence he gives him in response is crushing and lasts longer than he would like. He is thankful for the bustle of people around him because otherwise the situation would be much more awkward. Has he said something wrong?

He sees him blink a couple of times coming out of the apparent state of shock he was in. A smile begins to stretch his lips and a new sparkle settles in his lavender eyes. Tanjiro can't tell if they reflect surprise or joy. Maybe a little of both.

Is that a blush on his cheeks?

"Y-yes," he finally replies, stuttering for a first second, but clearing his throat right away to speak again "You.... too?".

He doesn't give him time to worry about the doubt left in his voice, as he has already turned for the last time and has begun to walk away at a hurried pace.

Tanjiro tilts his head to the side, confused. Was it the first time he heard those words come out of Giyu's mouth or did he really grow a third eye?

He hopes it was the first.

Somehow, Tanjiro managed to survive until the afternoon, but he's convinced it was a goddamn stroke of luck.

For starters, he discovered that his class schedule - Giyu's schedule, whatever - was organized and filed in the documents on his phone, along with the classrooms in which each class was held, so all he had to do was follow it to the letter.

He had a little trouble finding where everything was in the vast expanse of the campus and was a little late for some of the classes, but the professors didn't seem to notice.

Apparently Giyu was studying landscape architecture, or so he guessed. Tanjiro didn't understand anything he saw throughout those classes, but fortunately he didn't have to participate or anything, because he's sure he would have blown it if that was the case and wants to avoid it at all costs.

Now, standing again on one of the campus sidewalks, with the sun warming the skin on his face and the wind tousling his hair, Tanjiro can finally let out a sigh, releasing the pressure from his shoulders and letting his guard down for the first time all morning.

Far too real.

"Gi-Yu!" a scream a few octaves higher comes out of his throat spontaneously as another voice, completely unfamiliar, low and beckoning, speaks out of nowhere next to his ear, emphasizing every syllable of his name. The weight of a body much larger than he is rests against his side and an arm wraps around his shoulders hunching his posture forward slightly.

Tanjiro has lost count of how many times he has been startled like that since he woke up.

His face turns by inertia in the direction of the voice, finding himself at an eerily close distance from the one hugging him.

It's another boy, maybe the same age as Giyu; he looks tall, very tall, by the way he crouches down to be at head height. He wears a large sweatshirt and the hood over his head. His face is handsome; his skin is lightly tanned with a strange makeup over one of his fuchsia eyes.

His hair is white, with longer locks that reach his shoulders sticking out of his clothes and shorter ones that fall like a fringe and has a sort of band with many decorative stones on his forehead.

When their gazes meet, the smile on his lips seems to widen, pearling with joy as he greets.

"Were you waiting for me? How sweet of you," he speaks again in a falsely fawning, rather mocking tone. The squeeze he gives to his shoulders makes Tanjiro's cheeks heat up involuntarily.

He says nothing. He can't say anything. This guy seems close enough to Giyu to call him by name - not that he knows his last name anyway - but to Tanjiro he's a complete stranger.

A stranger who has started dragging him along, forcing him to walk to who knows where. A fleeting panic crosses his chest, enough to hinder his steps until he hears him say. "Let’s go, you still owe me that lunch."

Tanjiro blinks and his gait becomes steadier. His gaze hasn't moved from the man's profile and now glows in understanding as he remembers the message from that morning and the name of the contact on his phone.

"Ten..Tengen-san?"

Tengen then turns to look at him with derision and a raised eyebrow. "And since when do you use honorifics?"

"My girls love this place. It has very good craftsmanship and the wooden structure is great." says Tengen.

The restaurant they entered is quite large. The decor is modern and intricate; you can tell they've paid attention to every detail. One of the walls is completely glazed and lets in natural light, illuminating everyone in the place.

Almost every table is occupied, varnished in a beautiful brown color with a bouquet of fresh flowers in the center and menus laid out next to it.

On the chairs at the next table are a pair of puppies tenderly dressed with colorful ribbons in their fluffy fur. They stare at him, wagging their tails and drawing a smile on Tanjiro's face that disappears when Tengen speaks again.

"Have you decided yet, Giyu?" Right, he is Giyu.

His gaze falls on the open menu in his hands and he immediately feels his heart sink into his stomach.

"I could live for a month on what these dishes cost!" his voice sounds a little more altered than he would have liked.

"Maybe ten years ago, what era are you from?". Tengen doesn't seem to notice by the lightness and playfulness with which he answers him.

The prices are too high. Tanjiro would even say they're being scandalously scammed, but maybe that's just his small-town side talking and that's how it works in the festival that is Tokyo.

He decides to swallow his discomfort at the expensive dishes when he sees the smile on Tengen's lips in front of him again. He would be a bit of an asshole to insist on leaving when he is talking so cheerfully about the place.

Anyway, he owes him lunch.

"Well, it's just a dream." he repeats out loud, lifting his shoulders trying to downplay it and overlooking the strangely surprised look Tengen gives him.

Glints of sunlight stream through the windows and change their angles as time goes by. People come and go as they are greeted by the September wind in the streets or the sweet aroma of apricot desserts inside the restaurant.

Tanjiro ended up choosing a Udon dish just like Tengen, and he could say with all certainty that it was one of the best he has tasted so far, so much so that he couldn't resist taking a picture of it with Giyu's phone.  

Uzui Tengen turned out to be a person with whom it was quite easy to strike up a conversation. His voice was noticeably raised in small talk, but never to the point of being annoying.

Tanjiro enjoyed lunch, ignoring the continuous passing of the minutes as he engrossed himself in the pleasant, unreal sense of vertigo that the extravagant city of Tokyo, as Tengen called it at one point, gave him.

The Kamado was smiling, perhaps too much forgetting the fact that he's not inside his body, and Uzui teased by saying that seeing Giyu's lips curving like that could be considered a historical event thanks to the alignment of the planets or something.

That threw Tanjiro off a bit, but it's something unavoidable in him when thoughts like 'What a great dream' or 'Dreams are great' roamed inside him with every mouthful of food he put in his mouth. He tried to keep it to a minimum so as not to attract more attention than necessary from Uzui for the rest of the time.

Dusk greets them as they leave the restaurant. Tengen lifts his arms, pushing his weight back to stretch and let out a yawn. The smile lingers on his face, the good mood after lunch evident.

"Well, I guess it'll be time to head back, Suma and the others must be waiting for me at home" Uzui says after straightening up, his eyes fixed on the colorful clouds behind the buildings across the street.

Tanjiro doesn't know exactly how Giyu usually says goodbye to people, so he opts to nod a couple of times without saying anything else hoping it doesn't look awkward or mechanical.

"It was nice talking to you today Giyu, you're so much more than that frown, who would have thought" Tengen comments in a bubbly and animated voice.

Tanjiro doesn't get to reply anything because the man has already started to walk away after a final See ya! He can only watch as he walks away through the crowd in the opposite direction to him.

The train car is moving forward. The continuous rattling of its wheels fills the silence that accompanies the people inside. Tanjiro turns off the phone in his hands. The page with the train route that warns him that there are 7 minutes left to reach the next station disappears and he can see his reflection on the now black screen. Giyu's foreign face, his features unfamiliar, but at the same time so familiar and his eyes looking back at him.

His face turns without thinking to the glass next door as he puts the device away in his pants pocket. The darkening sky with some grayish clouds and unlit buildings is all that can be seen in that landscape so different from Itomori.

Itomori. He feels a little guilty as at no time during the day has he thought about his small hometown, his friends or his family; too distracted by the allure of Tokyo perhaps.

He hopes they're okay; Tanjiro still doesn't understand what's going on or why, but he also hopes his absence hasn't been too noticeable, otherwise his sister would worry, and he doesn't like her to worry.

If he had to excuse himself, he would say that he was all the time focused on enjoying this unusual experience. On recording in his memory every detail and experience that he could never have in his minimalist and boring life.

What has no place in his future dictated by tradition. Handcuffed to tradition. As much as he wants to push for a place in he honestly feels he cant. All that's left for him is to let go of resignation in a heartbeat, if only for a tiny moment, and appreciate and enjoy all he can because at any moment this dream could be over.

Giyu's apartment is much quieter than it was in the morning. Glimpses of summer heat still cling to the atmosphere outside, but for some reason, when Tanjiro sets foot inside the place about thirty minutes after leaving the station, everything feels colder. Lonely.

He didn't get a chance to see the place in detail after waking up, as he was more concerned with understanding his situation, but now, with the light on he can see how empty everything is. It's almost depressing and the realization brings a sinking feeling to the pit of his stomach.

Giyu has evidently just moved in not too long ago, but it's different than he could have imagined.

There are fewer boxes than he remembers seeing in the morning, and that confuses him.

The walls are still empty.

In the dishwasher are only the remnants of breakfast. The box on the countertop that he thought was full of glasses turns out to have only two, plus a couple of china plates.

The wooden table is still there, as are the shopping bags, but when he checks them he realizes there are only packages of instant noodles and cans of coffee.

Only then does he notice the only armchair in front of the TV on a table full of papers and a marker, with a worn and stained gray cushion. Next to it, it turns out, was only a suitcase.

Perhaps he didn't notice it at first, or perhaps the presence of Sabito, whose name he now knows thanks to a message he sent him on the train reminding him again to have dinner and which did not at all make him feel guilty for finding out about it at that point in the day, soothed the hermit-like atmosphere of the place.

Tanjiro now feels an enormous intrigue for Giyu. He doesn't know him at all, but by being in his body and inside his skin; by the small details of his life and how the people around him reacted, the Kamado was able to put together a somewhat loose hypothesis of the kind of person he is.

Tanjiro lies on his back on the couch, with one of his legs stretched out on the furniture and the other folded, letting his foot still touch the floor. The light is now off and the only thing illuminating the apartment are the streetlights from outside through the glass door with the curtain open.

"I must say, this dream does seem real." He says to the nothingness, his gaze fixed on the ceiling above him, on the part where the light doesn't reach.

His hand rummages in one of his pants pockets until he finds Giyu's phone and pulls it out. Now he holds it up to his face, illuminating the jet black hair on his forehead.

Tanjiro had already checked the device when he found his schedule on file, but nothing beyond that. His fingers move through the apps, driven simply by curiosity and a desire to know more about this boy.

He decides to put aside the bittersweet feeling that tells him he shouldn't invade Giyu's privacy that he had since morning, with the excuse that he has lived one day in his body and that should be enough to scan his phone some more.

"Oh, it looks like you're keeping a diary!", he can't help but exclaim as if speaking directly to him when he finds the small notebook-shaped icon. Inside are several notes with the respective date of when they were written. There are too many and they range from weeks to months ago. "How organized."

An endearing smile comes across his face as he finds more. He doesn't find it strange to discover that in his gallery there are only a couple of albums with no more than fifty photos after a glance.

There is the most recent one of Udon's plate from lunch, several pictures of a blackboard that are most likely notes written in class by the teacher, a picture of the sunset among the city buildings and there is one where Giyu is seen next to Tengen.

Uzui is hugging him by the shoulders looking at the camera again and sticking out his tongue, but Giyu for his part has an expression that anyone would label as annoyed or bothered if it weren't for the small and almost non-existent curvature that Tanjiro manages to see in the corner of his lips. It makes him let out a brief chuckle and wish to himself that he lived in Tokyo.

"One of him!" On the screen is a photograph of Sabito in profile in what appears to be a park in springtime. His head is up slightly looking at the open buds of cherry blossoms falling on his tousled hair and the scar on his cheek is stretched by the smile he has, as it happened that very morning.

In the next one, he is looking directly into the camera, smiling even wider with his eyes almost squeezed shut and forming a peace sign with one of his hands.

"Could it be that you like him?" he asks again into the air, his voice has a playful edge to it at the innocent idea that, because of the very specific and detailed way the photograph was taken, perhaps Giyu has a platonic love for his friend.

Tanjiro straightens up until he is sitting on his knees on the couch and goes back into the notes app. A new section is created, with the day's date and a green theme to differentiate it from the others.

I wished Sabito-kun a good day today. That made him very happy, he even blushed! You should do that more often.

Oh! I also talked a lot with Tengen-san at lunch, he's a nice guy. He told me that I'm much more than a frown. I don't know what he means by that.

Anyway, I had fun today, it was a very nice dream Giyu-san!

'Who are you?'

The flash of a memory suddenly pierces through his memory. Of that strange question meticulously written in his notebook just the day before.

Tanjiro feels the desire to answer that question and, for some reason that he dare not find out more about, it feels right to do so now. The vague, impossible thought that perhaps Giyu may have written it.

In the dim light of the phone screen, Tanjiro reaches for the black marker he remembers seeing next to the TV and gets up from the couch to take it.

In the same manner, only illuminated by it from his lap back on the couch, he uncovers it with his mouth and writes on the skin of his left hand, with the tingle and smell of the ink as the last thing he manages to perceive before he lets out a yawn and falls back onto the worn gray furniture to end up asleep.

‘Tanjiro’

Chapter Text

Tomioka couldn't remember the last time he had set foot on the butterfly estate.

The place retained the same smell of medicine and countryside. Polished wood and the scent of wisteria; with the whisper of all the Kakushi walking from place to place.

He didn't really like the place for the simple reason that Shinobu could appear at any corner to bother him as usual; not that he really liked the idea of being around people either so he did his best not to go or get in the way unless it was really important.

And Tomioka didn't know if he would consider this important.

Giyu had received a raven from the insect pillar. Something that was unusual, even for Kocho.

He had opened the message while eating lunch at a small street food stall and had read it without much interest at first. A cordial greeting that painted the ink with sarcasm and then the news that Tanjiro was currently at the butterfly estate.

That was something he did know. Kamado spent his days training there when he wasn't being sent on missions, but what struck him as odd was the phrase "he's been in a coma for two weeks and I need you to come see him.”

He didn't understand why Kocho had thought it would be relevant to tell him now when on other occasions she hadn't.  It wasn't something he expected, but he wasn't going to accept that it intrigued him either. Not at all.

So he decided to go to the estate as much as he didn't want to. It took him a few days to arrive, being greeted by Shinobu and Aoi's permanent smile beside her.

And when he had asked why she had sent for him, she replied in a sing-song voice, "After all, he is your responsibility."

Giyu didn't believe that to begin with. Tanjiro was someone independent whom he rarely saw. Sometimes he would get some crows from him, but it's not like Tomioka would answer. He didn't mean to be rude, but he had come to the conclusion that it was best to keep his distance from others and that interpersonal relationships were fucking painful in his circumstances.

Though well, he was the one who tried to kill his demon sister in the first place, but he was just doing his job.

He was also the one who told him not to be vulnerable and lectured him about how his empty words of bringing Nezuko back to normal were ridiculous for a weakling like him and ironically ended up motivating him in a way.

It was Tomioka who ultimately sent him to Urokodaki to become a demon slayer and who had pledged his life for his sister and ......

Okay. Maybe Tanjiro really was his responsibility.

And it was from the moment he hesitated to annihilate the demon.

Resigned, he ended up letting out a sigh in the hallway where Tanjiro's room was supposed to be. Repeating to himself that he was only doing it at Shinobu's request; otherwise she wouldn't leave him alone.

Tomioka walked at a slow pace and before he arrived, the door opened from the inside revealing Kanao, Kocho's young successor coming out of the place.

She seemed surprised to see him there as her shoulders twitched slightly when their gazes met. Neither said anything in the second of awkwardness that surrounded them and Kanao merely gave a small bow which he awkwardly returned before watching her walk away.

Tomioka had entered the room and, like the rest of the estate, it had a dense smell of medicine and disinfectant. It was a small room, with only the bed against the wall to his right, where Tanjiro was lying.

He was still unconscious, face up and with a peaceful expression on his face. He had bandages on his head covering the strange mark on his forehead with which he had met him and another on his chin and jaw.

He didn't know if he had others on more parts of his body, but from what Shinobu had told him, he had returned in a rather serious condition from a mission with Tengen. So he could only guess.

Tomioka then noticed the bundle huddled in the blankets next to Tanjiro. It was Nezuko, small as a five-year-old sleeping without letting go of her brother's hand. Tomioka watched them for a few long seconds, as he was enveloped by the cloying brotherly affection these siblings emanated even in their sleep.

Giyu walked at a silent pace up to them. He had in his memory the fresh memory of the young man begging him not to take anything else from him, and for a second he wondered what would have happened if he had simply done his job that time on the mountain.

He decided to push that thought away as he stood beside him now.

And maybe it happened without thinking or it was an action prompted by his cracked heart, but before he knew it one of his hands went up to Tanjiro's face, taking a lock of hair, pulling it back and bringing it behind his ear. It was soft to the touch, a little dirty surely from the time that had passed since he had last washed it, but Giyu didn't mind.

And then Tomioka knew this was dangerous, because through his tormented head a thought passed as if it were the whisper of wisteria swaying in the wind, which managed to soften something inside him.

Because maybe...

Maybe Giyu should respond to the ravens he receives from him.

September 10th

What is this?

Giyu blinks a couple of times until he focuses his still drowsy gaze.

The hand on which he rests his weight sinks into the uncomfortable seats of the armchair where he woke up and where he is sitting, but his eyes are fixed on the palm of the other one, more specifically on the kanji written on his skin in black ink.

'Tanjiro'

It's a name, or so he assumes.

He doesn't think he knows anyone by that name, but it's certainly a name he heard somewhere. He recognizes it for some strange reason deep in his memory, but what causes the confused pinch between his eyebrows is the fact that he doesn't know how it got there.

It's not written in his handwriting, the penmanship is a little messier and scrambled and the ink has smudged a bit from the natural sweat on his hands, but the name is easy to read at a glance.

Strange. Giyu doesn't think he has any reason to want to write it on the palm of his hand in easy-to-erase ink, but as unusual as it is he lets it go after a few seconds when he notices that he's wearing a normal set of clothes instead of just pajama pants.

Then, as he tries to straighten his posture, a sudden pain in his back makes him relapse to the fact that he has woken up on the couch instead of in his bed. He lets out a grunt of annoyance at this, scolding himself aloud for the obvious stupidity of that decision.

His gaze sweeps around the apartment and he lets out a sigh covered in what he would consider relief. Finding the overwhelming but familiar loneliness of the apartment instead of endless mountains and a huge lake is comforting as fucked up as it sounds.

For the past few days he's been having the strangest dreams. As if he was living someone else's life; one very different from his own on several levels.

There he also had a sister with black hair and a warm smile, but compared to his own, she didn't worry about him as much and she was a few years younger.

He had more friends than he is used to and an oddly traditional looking grandfather. He also lived in a village in the middle of somewhere in Japan and, strangest of all, had a less mature appearance than his own. Large, pretty vermillion eyes; annoying earrings and a weird mark on his forehead.

When he woke up he would end up with something unusual burning under his skin. A thought buzzing around and saying that the people he was seeing look familiar; close in some way, especially the supposed family he was living with in those lucid dreams.

Frankly, deep down, he feels that those people had been part of his life at some point, but Tomioka knows that's impossible, having never set foot in a rural area like that. He has grown up in Tokyo all his life, and the only people he has come to establish close ties with that he maintains so far are his older sister, Tengen, and Sabito.

But the unmistakable feeling of deja vu is still there, clinging to his hand and tingling, although he's not going to pay too much attention to it for the moment.

Giyu rubs his eyes and lets out a long yawn. His hair is matted and his body is sweaty. If he has time he will have to take a bath. With a glance he finds his cell phone on the floor face down, picks it up praying it's not too late and scolding himself for not plugging it into the charger the night before.

There are still a couple of hours left until his first class and a quarter of the battery, which relieves him deeply. Tomioka is about to get up and head to the bathroom, but when he unlocks the phone screen he finds the diary app open in the main menu.

That's not strange, as he has a habit of writing in it in the evenings, but what makes him pause is the most recent note, glowing green amidst the blue of all the others. It greets him with an eerie strangeness.

It's dated from yesterday, but Giyu doesn't remember writing anything yesterday.

His fingers open it without much thought, feeling extremely uneasy about it and then read:

I wished Sabito-kun a good day today. That made him very happy, he even blushed! You should do that more often.

Oh! I also talked a lot with Tengen-san at lunch, he's a nice guy. He told me that I'm much more than a frown. I don't know what he means by that.

Anyway, I had fun today, it was a very nice dream Giyu-san!

Giyu has to blink a couple of times to take in what's on his phone. The frown on his face gradually increases until the pinch between his eyebrows seems to hurt. 

What!?

Reading Sabito's name and the word blush in the same paragraph makes him feel an ephemeral surge of panic.  The strange sensation of heat and embarrassment rises up his neck until it clusters on his cheeks. He wants to hold it back, but imagining Sabito blushing, blushing for him? is stronger at this moment.

His grip on the phone increases and his heart beats very confusedly in his ears. Tomioka really tries to imagine himself provoking those reactions in Sabito. Yes, he may have liked him for a few years now, but Tomioka isn't outgoing or risky enough to venture out and do or say something to accomplish that.

Giyu shakes his head and grimaces in disgust at the shiver that runs through him just putting that mental image in his head.

Yeah, he definitely didn't write that.

What's going on?

"Wow, you actually deigned to comb your hair today." Tengen scoffs at the sight of him with his hair tied in the typical low ponytail. His fingers hold one of the jet-colored locks for a couple of seconds before letting go.

Giyu looks much more presentable than the day before when he wore it all loose and unbrushed. The stoic expression also returned and although the day before he was pleased to see Giyu much more open than he usually is, he can't help but widen his smile at seeing his friend normal again.

Tomioka doesn't say anything to him, nor does he stop his feet as he walks around the campus. He just rolls his eyes and settles the weight of the backpack on his shoulders once again.

He decided to ignore the strange way he had started his morning after the door to his apartment closed behind him, having realized that he had taken longer than necessary in the shower.

His only concern at the moment will be the exam he will be giving on Friday for which he must set a reminder on his phone. It won't be any weird dreams or vertigo provoking emotions.

No sir.

"Are we going to the cafe again today?" Tengen then asks, breaking the small bubble of silence they kept themselves in after a while.

"Sorry, I have homework to finish" Giyu replies simply. Regretfully remembering all the accumulated homework that for some reason he hasn't done until now.  "I'll buy you that lunch some other time."

Tengen stops. Tomioka notices and does the same, turning to look at him with curiosity at the sudden and abrupt way he does it. The other looks at him with a questioning expression "But you already did."

Tomioka watches him for a couple of sharp breaths. The same frown he had in the morning reappears on his face. Confused and bewildered. Extremely bewildered.

Because Giyu definitely did not buy him that lunch. He would know since Tomioka has always been someone excessively careful when it comes to his own money. However, from the way Tengen assures him and from his own confused expression, it seems that he has indeed already done so.

Giyu only feels the panic rising.

"Wait a minute, was that you, Tengen? Have you been playing with my phone?" exclaims Giyu, leaning his body toward Tengen. The memory of the strange note on his phone from that morning is present in his memory. Hurried voice with a hint of insistence from the sudden idea that maybe it's Uzui playing a fucking joke on him.

"What?" Tengen answers him again, even more confused.

"Sabito has arrived!" neither manages to say anything else as Sabito's weight hits them from behind hugging them by the shoulders, or so he tries to do to Tengen, but all he manages to do is wrap his arms around him below the shoulder blades. Giyu is the only one who loses his balance a bit and leans forward when Sabito's bubbly, fruity voice reaches him, very, very close to his ear and greets them "Good morning!"

"You look happy today," Tengen smiles, catching that animated attitude from Sabito. His face turns to look at him, forgetting the confusion of a few seconds ago.

" Why sure, today's going to be a good day" he laughs. His cheekbones rise and his eyelids crinkle. His mood doesn't wane at any moment and for Tomioka it even seems to increase when he turns his face towards his direction and says, with a nice pink color on his cheeks, "Right Giyu?"

Giyu doesn't notice how his shoulders tense under Sabito's touch, nor how there are bubbles of heat rising to his face. His earlier concern fades between the pounding of his heart and the mocking chuckle Tengen tries to hold back at the surely ridiculous expression on his face at the moment.

What the hell is going on!?

September 13th

'Tanjiro? Who are you? What are you?'

Tanjiro has his hand fully extended in front of him. Eyes fixed on the drawn kanji that run down his wrist to the inside of his elbow. Compared to the ones in his notebook, these look rushed, gone over several times on his skin with the black marker.

Again, he doesn't know how they got there. He tries to find an answer, but his memories crowd together and make him dizzy. They are blurry and do not allow him to think clearly.

There is a strange, disembodied voice in his ears whispering something akin to an apology and a wish for him to wake up soon, which for some reason squeezes his heart in the time it takes to fade and Tanjiro realizes that his sister is back under the door frame.   

How long has she been there?

"Tanjiro, it's time for breakfast," Nezuko says. Her voice calm and laughing as always; he can feel the confused pinch between his brows relax.

His arm falls to his side; maybe he's trying to hide the words scrawled on his skin from his sister or maybe he doesn't notice, but he merely smiles at her before saying he'll be with them soon.

She closes the door. Her footsteps move away and Tanjiro raises his arm again; he fixes his gaze back on the ink, but doesn't hear that monotone voice inside his head again in the time it takes to get ready for school.

" Morning..."

The moment Tanjiro sets foot in the classroom, the noise that once filled the atmosphere fades away. He is startled by the sudden change and by the fact that the eyes of all his classmates are now on him. Some are curious and others wary; whatever it is, they end up making him uncomfortable and his pace quickens until he reaches his desk next to Zenitsu.

"W-Why is everyone staring at me?" he asks self-consciously as he shuffles his chair.

Zenitsu doesn't take his eyes off him, even when he's already seated, and lets out an incredulous snort before answering him. "It must be because of the scene you made yesterday."

September 12

Giyu let out the fifth yawn so far in their walk. He could feel several students from his class nipping at his heels from behind, walking the same path to the classroom.

His two so-called friends, in front of him, were again arguing over something stupid. The blond was very dramatic with his answers while the other boy, who by the way was holding a strange and creepy boar's head in his hands, was much more aggressive.

So far Tomioka hadn't bothered to learn their names as, first of all, he didn't care too much and, second of all, this was all nothing more than a dream so he didn't see the point in doing so.

He also couldn't quite remember the name of his sweet, giggly sister who he had gone to school with that morning, and that was the only thing that made him feel a little guilty, as the girl kept reminding him of his own sibling.

He glanced around the place one more time, running his eyes over the details of the classrooms and the leaves blowing off the branches of the trees on the other side of the windows.

God, it had been so long since he had been in high school.

This environment wasn't so unfamiliar to him, though. The hustle and bustle of students everywhere was something he also found in college, but he had forgotten what it was like to hear the sports teacher's whistle in the distance, to have to follow the insufferable schedule of back-to-back classes, or to wear the annoyingly hideous uniform.

Giyu had done his best to forget his high school days, as most of them were boring or simply irrelevant. Sabito was his only friend, but they weren't in the same class and he only saw him during breaks, so he spent most of his time alone.

It was strange for Tomioka to have people to interact with and say more than short yes and no sentences.

This guy... Tanjiro? seemed to be someone more sociable and warm with his classmates or people in general. He guessed as much from the way they treated him and Giyu would be lying if he said he didn't feel overwhelmed and fucking uncomfortable.

Giyu had tried not to talk too much so the others wouldn't notice anything strange like, I don't know, that he' s not in fact Tanjiro but someone else using his body, but everyone was getting pretty close to him so the task was proving more difficult than he would have imagined.

Fortunately for him there was only the last class left after arts, so now he just had to hold on until he reached the classroom. He would keep a low profile. Yes, that's what he would do

"Did you see the election posters?"

"No matter how they do it, nothing's going to change, except whoever gets the bribe."

Wait .

"Shh, that useless girl, Nezuko depends on it."

What?

"God, the idiot thinks she's soo much just because her uncle is the mayor."

"Ugh, I know right?"

Zenitsu turned around as he also heard the chatter and all the ridiculous comments towards his beautiful Nezuko. In doing so he found that Tanjiro had also suddenly stopped by one of the trash cans in the hallway.

The girls there hadn't noticed his presence as they were still talking a few feet behind them and Agatsuma thought his friend would say something to them, but his gaze was fixed on his shoes and he didn't move.

"Nezuko is my sister, right?" he then asked, stopping Zenitsu from doing anything. It was almost a whisper, but he heard it.

"Ah... yeah" he nodded in response, somewhat confused and thrown off by the noticeably serious and different tone of voice he spoke in. "T-Tanjiro!

The next thing he knew, Tanjiro had kicked the trash can next to him; cans and bottles bounced on the ground and the thump echoed loudly drawing the attention of most of the people around him, including those girls who were most likely in the same classroom as Nezuko, causing them to shut up.

Tanjiro watched them over his shoulder. His gaze was piercing. Cold and very, very annoyed. His jaw was clenched and there was a concerning pinch between his eyebrows.

"No, go on, keep talking." That was what he said to them, turning to face them fully and scaring them even more.

Everyone there sensed for the first time that depth in his voice and the latent threat painted in it.

The sound of a ball hitting a baseball bat is heard along with the chirping of cicadas. It is hot and about ten minutes have passed since the break began.

The grip of his hands on the chopsticks weakens and the small rice ball falls back into the bento as Zenitsu finishes telling him what happened the day before.

Tanjiro has always been a true believer in justice and would do anything to protect and defend his sister, however, he is more about blunt and sometimes outrageous words than actions, so his stomach tightens and he breaks out in a cold sweat as he imagines himself behaving like that.

The rays of sunlight streaming through the branches of the tree they are standing under hit him directly in the face, but he is too dismayed to notice.

"I...I..." he passes saliva and doesn't bother to hide the panic he feels when he finally speaks "I did what?"

The sunset is in the sky. The clouds are moving with fullness. There is no wind that afternoon, only the aroma of Urokodaki's brewed tea escaping into the garden through the open doors of the dining room he shares at that moment with his granddaughter.

Nezuko turns, as does her grandfather, when they hear the dull thud of the sliding door hitting the frame. Hurried footsteps follow and they see Tanjiro's figure run past them down the hallway.

He doesn't hear when his sister calls his name curiously, as everything around him feels too strong, coming towards him and hitting him with unheard and unimaginable understanding. He is more focused on climbing the stairs and getting to his room as quickly as possible.

The backpack falls carelessly next to the desk and Tanjiro rummages around until he finds his notebook. That notebook where the question that started it all was.

The pages turn, the tearing sound of each one resonates too much in his hatreds. In the last one written by him, after his English notes, he finds what he was looking for.  A pile of scribbles and notes in no apparent order. Strikethroughs and totally unconnected writings.

Handwriting that is not his own.

"Is this...could this be..."

"No no no no no no..."

Giyu moves his foot up and down impatiently. The seat of his couch is particularly fussy at the moment and his t-shirt feels uncomfortably sticky. He has his phone a very small space away from his face.

His diary is open and Tomioka is flipping through it quickly, feeling the bewilderment and panic he's been carrying around all these days tighten in his chest in an overwhelming way the more he backs up his notes; because this cannot be happening.

"Could this be that we're really…"

It's not just one page that's written in Tanjiro's notebook. They are many, hidden among notes from weeks ago, each with the same calligraphy and quick sketches of various parts he recognizes from Itomori, such as the tori at the entrance to the sun god's temple.

The more pages he turns, the more he discovers. More glimpses of someone else's doubts and confusion. All they manage to do is increase the dark sense of panic that settles in his gut. 

"In our dreams, that guy and I are..."

Realization hits Giyu. Impossibility and unrealism have come out of the shadows, making clearer the ridiculous situation he had been in for weeks now. The one he convinced himself were only strange dreams, in addition to the tormenting nightmares in which he saw himself using a katana. 

His heart strangles in his throat at the thought of a stranger living in his body and intruding on his life.

"In our dreams, that guy and I are..."

It's clear. It' s real.

This is real.

As unimaginable as it seems, it is.

"Switching places?!"

"Switching places?!"

Chapter Text

As a kid, Tanjiro remembers being someone who imagined a lot; who dreamed a lot.

His dreams had no particular order; they jumped from one moment to the other without apparent meaning.

Most of them had the same premise. He was with Nezuko; he carried her inside a strange wooden box as she seemed to be sick somehow; they both traveled together and he always carried a heavy katana with him. 

There were also other people. He couldn't hear their voices, much less even see their faces, but he knew for sure that they were important people, people he wanted to protect and people he was fond of. 

It was hot in those dreams, at all hours he seemed to be surrounded by embers that emanated a desperate and suffocating heat. Like a constant and latent threat that paralyzed his legs.

Tanjiro ended up crying every time he woke up from those dreams. He would call out for his mother, almost screaming for her in the dark hallway outside his room. It was overwhelming and those few minutes it took for Kie to appear and reach him seemed like forever.

She would comfort him by telling him that none of it was real. They were just nightmares. Nightmares in which monsters appeared and chased him at night. Cold, bloodthirsty monsters that, for a child, were among the worst things he could experience.

There was one in particular that made him feel a lot of pain. It would make him lose himself in a shattered, seething, dark city, and then it would eat him. No matter how hard he tried to defend himself with the katana, the result was always the same.

Kie kept telling him that it wasn't real and that it could never happen to him. Monsters don't exist and would never hurt him. But the six-year-old Tanjiro didn't believe it. He simply could not conceive the idea that they were just a fantasy because, yes, they were fragmented and incoherent dreams, but they seemed real; he felt them real.

And so it went until he was eight years old and the dreams stopped happening.

If he's honest, he doesn't remember most of them now other than just the small details. Of that tormented life he dreamed of and, until now, it hadn't crossed his mind, much less in the last few months with the whole temple thing and his role in it. 

Or so it was until one morning he woke up in the body of a stranger.

The dreams had returned, but this time different. They were more specific and although they still seemed like poorly edited, blurry scenes on a homemade recording, to Tanjiro they had become understandable somehow. Bearable.

There are no more monsters. It's no longer hot. There are only routine scenes revolving around... something or someone perhaps? 

He doesn't know, and he doesn't want to delve too deeply into it either, but what is clear to Tanjiro is that such dreams envelop him with a pleasant, candid feeling. Like warm water sliding on his skin, completely opposite to the suffocating terror he felt as a child. 

And now, every time he wakes up after those dreams, he sees himself trapped in Giyu Tomioka's body.

I'm beginning to understand what's going on. 

Giyu is a 21-year-old guy studying at university in Tokyo.

Waking up as Giyu is overwhelming on many levels. A different body; the face, the hair, the clothes. Everything is very different and the first few days Tanjiro had nervous grimaces on his face when he opened his eyes and realized where he was.

The falls off the bed as he was not used to it were constant and he just hoped it would not take its toll on Giyu's back. 

And of course, he couldn't forget how embarrassing it was to go to the bathroom either!

In Tokyo the nights are busy. Buildings are slow to turn off their lights and the traffic lights on the streets never stop. With the arrival of morning the windows flash almost annoyingly from the sun reflecting on them and cars invade the streets. 

Tokyo is just something else. It was clear to Tanjiro from day one, but as time went by he realized how exhausting it is to live there if you don't know how to handle it. 

The train station is not that far from Giyu's apartment, so it only takes a quick jog on foot to get there, but what is stressful is figuring out which train line to take. On more than one occasion, Tanjiro found himself pacing around outside the station, his gaze varying between the phone screen with the routes and the rest of the world around him. 

Then, when he was finally on the train, praying he hadn't gotten on the wrong line, he would find himself trapped in a crowd of people pushing him until he was almost crushed against the glass doors. 

Yeah, Tokyo is too much. 

Two or three times a week I switch places with Tanjiro, who lives in some town.

Tomioka had a routine and was more than satisfied with the boring life he led. He would get up, shower, eat breakfast, go spend the rest of the day stressing at the University and then go back to the apartment for some dinner if he remembered.

Sometimes Tsutako would call him to ask how he was doing, changing the monotony a bit, but that was the only thing.

Never in his wildest nightmares would he have imagined something like this would happen.

And he was an idiot for underestimating the tricks of fate.

Giyu remained in denial at first, because c' mon, was he really to be expected to believe that he was switching bodies with a teenager he didn't know?

But, to his surprise, when he woke up he discovered that in his diary there were more entries he definitely didn't write about how that day he walked to the train station with Sabito made him blush again.

Sleep triggers it.

The station changes. The clouds slide into the sky and paint themselves with the end of the day. The Tori still stands motionless on the temple steps welcoming all who pass beneath it and the trees whisper the unfamiliar song of Itomori.

To Giyu, the village where Tanjiro lives looks like something out of a fairy tale; a tranquil style with traditional and cozy houses. The view is spectacular; he has never been too keen on the idea of being in such a country setting, but he must admit that he has stopped more than once to admire how the lake water seems to shine like polished silver under the sun's rays. 

Every morning he walks with Tanjiro's sister Nezuko to school. She is talkative, cheeky and affectionate. She fills the conversation all the way until they meet their other friends and doesn't seem to notice the obvious difference in her brother's personality. 

He likes her; she's similar to Tsutako in many ways and perhaps that's the main reason he didn't have a hard time bonding with her in the end.  

Classes are regular; it's an extreme change to what he experiences in college, but somehow he has managed to handle it. 

Giyu has always had a habit of playing with the longer strands of his hair when he is bored, but now, considering he is not in his body, he must resign himself to looking out the window towards the lake beyond the school grounds. 

The cause is a mystery

Tomioka has developed a perpetual state of anticipation and anxiety at not knowing when the fuck he is going to wake up in Tanjiro's body. It is never concrete when it might happen and being random and irregular, he can only go to sleep and hope for the best or the worst. 

He hoped he wasn't the only one feeling this way. 

Giyu ended up scribbling his confusion in the other' s notebook on more than one occasion with the intention of getting Tanjiro to respond. The first few times they switched bodies they tried to give it a rational explanation, or as rational as possible at least, but they couldn't and resignation won out in the end. 

It was easier to ignore the rational than to torture themselves with questions of why or how?

The memories of the switch are hazy after we wake up, but we are definitely switching places. 

There were several times when he was confused when his friends or teachers would tell him that he had done something when Tanjiro clearly did not remember. Many would laugh at his confusion and others, like Zenitsu, would scold him or look at him suspiciously. 

At first he wanted to let it go and not get too upset about it. To go back to that monotony that repeated itself every day that he was so used to.  That friendly atmosphere that enveloped him with the nagging about punctuality and the whining about how annoying it was to have to get up early from his friends. 

He tried, but his patience reached a limit when one morning he woke up with one of his cheeks swollen and scratched under a bandage. He went down to breakfast to ask his sister what had happened to him, but she just huffed between indignant and worried; scolding him and saying he had gotten into a fight to defend her from some idiots who were friends with the girls who always picked on her.  

Then Urokodaki scolded him even more for dropping a crystal glass at the surprise and the pit that formed in his stomach. 

It's obvious from the reactions of the people around us, so....

So we lay down some rules to protect each other's lifestyle. 

Tengen would hardly leave him alone at the university. Giyu had to take many deep breaths in order to avoid sending his dear friend to fuck off for his characteristic teasing. 

His hair and Sabito were recurring topics because, in Uzui's eyes, they were something Tomioka was quite tactful and careful with, but now, thanks to Tanjiro, he wasn't anymore. 

Things to watch out during the exchange and a list of “don'ts”

Tanjiro had to download the same app that Giyu had on his phone to make it easier to communicate with him when they switched. His entries were green and he had taken his time to write his rules for Tomioka, and from what he can guess, so had Giyu.  

He doesn't know how long he sat on his futon, his hair matted, a dismayed frown on his forehead, and flicking his fingers across the screen. 

There were roughly six or seven rules marked in bold by both of them. They were simple and, just in case, they had a reminder with an annoying alarm that went off at a specific time each day. They didn't know when the switch would occur, so they couldn't risk it. 

We also agreed to leave reports on our phones.

Tanjiro took advantage of the dead time during the train ride between places to write on the phone everything, absolutely everything that had happened during the day at Giyu's request.

He didn't care much if the people around him peeked in to read what he was writing because, for the most part, they were mostly people sleeping or focused on reading a book or on their own phones. 

Giyu, for his part, had to be more careful as Tanjiro's friends didn't move away from him in Any. Fucking. Moment. 

They were still loud and dramatic when they weren't at school and it took Tomioka a while to get used to hanging out with them. He reluctantly learned their names and to write reports on Tanjiro's phone he had to wait until he was alone. He usually stopped at the caution fences by the railroad tracks, as no one walked there when evening fell. 

To work together to tide over this mysterious phenomenon. 

They could do it, the rules they had to follow were simple, basic and for the good of both of them. 

But...

But...

But that doesn't stop them from ignoring them monumentally from time to time. 

What's wrong with this guy! 

What's wrong with this guy! 

The first to complain was Tanjiro. The first time his friends and sister mentioned to him that he hadn't put on his earrings he felt a choking panic in his chest, then he understood that it was Giyu who had taken them off and relaxed at the thought that he should just tell him to keep them on. But, to his misfortune, Giyu still didn't put them on and he knew he had enough when it was his grandfather who had mentioned it. 

Don't ever take the earrings off! 

They're too heavy and annoying! 

Just don't do it! 

Then Giyu left a note on his phone when he had enough of Tengen telling him that he looked and acted cuter when his hair was down and unbrushed. 

Tie your hair before you go out! 

It's too long! 

That's the way I like it! 

For Giyu the hardest part had been faking in front of Tanjiro's grandfather. The man was imposing and, deep down, it seemed as if he knew that, whoever was there, was not really his grandson. 

Maybe it has to do with the fact that Tomioka was more than a little surprised when he first saw him without his mask at breakfast or because he is a complete disgrace to the muradai. Whatever it is, he feels immense respect for some reason and also an almost giddy familiarity that he hasn't delved too deeply into.

But that didn't stop him from complaining to Tanjiro about how complicated it was for him to braid the strings and how Nezuko seemed very confused when they worked in the workshop at night and he struggled not to make a mess. 

Braided cords…I can't do this! 

Tanjiro found himself scolding Giyu many times as he realized the peculiar lifestyle he led. The only food he could find in the kitchen were packages of instant noodles stored in the cabinet and energy drinks in the fridge.  

When he asked why he didn't buy anything else, Tomioka only replied that he didn't know how to cook and didn't have the time to do so.  

Tanjiro didn't put up with it for long and took it upon himself to buy decent food one day, completely ignoring the rule that stood out a bit among the others on the phone of not spending too much money. 

And it didn't help much that every now and then a text message would come from Sabito reminding him that he has to have dinner when he's home in the evenings. 

If he's honest, even he wouldn't feel like eating if he only had cheap ramen to fill his stomach, so Tanjiro started cooking for him when he got home from the university, because Giyu might be a stubborn and almost frivolous jerk, but he would feel guilty if he found out he had gotten sick from not taking care of himself when he could have done something about it. 

He always left little notes letting him know that there was food, stuck where they could be easily seen, like the fridge or the desk. 

Tomioka told him not to do it, but he shut up after another scolding and a plate of salmon with daikon left for him by Tanjiro. Somehow he guessed that it was his favorite food since he doesn't remember telling him at any point.  

You're going to get sick if you keep skipping meals! 

Tomioka had to figure out how to keep his own classes out of conflict because of the switch. His grades mattered, so he had no choice but to push forward some work that stood out in the academic syllabus. It was a lot of sleepless nights, but all so Tanjiro didn't have to do anything but show up for class. 

Tanjiro found out about Giyu's lack of sleep thanks to the fact that, in one of the swaps, Sabito told him, between concern and mocking, that his dead face with dark circles under his eyes the size of a cookie was no longer as bad as it looked.   

He scolded him again and Giyu's excuse was that he was doing it for him. Tanjiro would be lying if he said he didn't blush when he read that. 

You study too much!

It's so you don't have to worry! 

Just keep quiet in class.

Despite everything, they managed to handle it somehow. 

Giyu later learned that it wasn't so bad to be in Tanjiro's shoes. The people he shared with were warm and he could understand the friendship that existed with Inosuke and Zenitsu. 

Once he got over the initial shock of meeting them, he found that they were really nice in their own way and even went so far as to steal Inosuke's bicycle. He chased him and Zenitsu as they tried to escape through the streets of the village and Giyu couldn't contain the laughter he let out at his yelling and banal fighting provocations.

Tanjiro, for his part, was having fun as the day ended and headed to the train station with Tengen. The sunsets over the parks were beautiful, not as beautiful as in Itomori, but there was something about them. Uzui's warm hugs on his shoulders made him happy, though he never got used to the closeness and the lack of embarrassment that made him blush sometimes. 

Sabito was someone nice. He liked the way he smiled and his personality was so tenacious and kind.  He cared a lot about Giyu and Tanjiro could quickly understand why he liked him so much.  

What was curious to him was that even though those two had known each other for a long time, Giyu seemed reluctant to do anything about his feelings. He asked him a couple of times in the diary, but they were the only messages that went unanswered. 

It didn't seem fair to Tanjiro, who has always been a firm believer in listening to the heart no matter what. 

Maybe that's why the decision he made was hasty and intrusive, but Tanjiro ignored it as he typed on Giyu's phone, with a goofy little smile tugging at his lips and wiggling his feet, which were dangling off the arm of the uncomfortable armchair in the apartment, like a kid. 

Grabbed coffee with Sabito-kun today. You two have a good thing going!

Giyu only squeezed the phone more than usual when he was on the train and read that, apparently, the previous afternoon he had gone to a coffee shop with Sabito and they had sat in front of the windows of the shop to share the view together and talk for hours. 

It was bad enough having two strangers on either side pressing up against him due to the cramped space, but the blatant message Tanjiro had left him only made it worse. 

Tomioka had stressed to him a thousand times not to interfere with the people around him-apart from Tengen, of course, who was already a hopeless case-but he'd ignored it again like the many other rules he'd turned a blind eye to. 

Giyu clenched his jaw and teeth in annoyance and felt his eyelid flutter a couple of times before writing a hasty reply. 

Tanjiro, stop changing my relationships! 

Tomioka then found a way to take revenge. 

Giyu, why is a girl in love with me!?

For Tanjiro that morning everything was going normal, too normal even. He and Tomioka hadn't talked much because of what happened with Sabito, but that didn't seem so strange to Tanjiro. 

It was in the afternoon, when he was returning home with Inosuke and Zenitsu, that a group of three girls approached him to talk to him. The middle one was the one who spoke and handed him an envelope with a small heart-shaped seal. 

It took him a couple of seconds to understand that she was confessing her feelings to him. His cheeks flared then and the tips of his ears burned.

What she told him further was what made him understand that this was Giyu's doing. This happened the day before and was happening again because Tanjiro had supposedly asked the poor girl to do it, promising that he would have an answer for her.

Zenitsu pulled him by the hair and yelled at him that he was an idiot for rejecting her while Inosuke just laughed all the way home after that. 

You are more popular when I'm you. 

Giyu had discovered that, apparently, after his little scene with the garbage cans and the fight he had with some assholes - for which Tanjiro had scolded him a lot even if it was just shoving, he's not that violent for God's sake - he had started to look attractive to several people, something he doesn't understand at all. 

Teenagers, he supposed. 

He knew from the others, that Tanjiro in and of himself was already someone known and caught people's attention at school because of the way he was, but the change in personality on the days when they switched was much more striking. 

He hadn't noticed it at first and it hadn't crossed his mind either as he was perhaps more concerned with praying that Tanjiro wouldn't do anything idiotic again. 

It was Zenitsu who said something to that effect, though it was more of a loud reproach of jealousy than a simple comment.

He was able to verify this when one of the same girls who used to tease Nezuko called him behind one of the classrooms to "talk". 

When he arrived, he found her trembling with nervousness before receiving an envelope with her confession of love inside. 

He told her that he needed her to repeat the confession the next day so he could think about it and give her his answer, though in reality Giyu was going to let Tanjiro deal with it. 

He didn't bother to warn him, of course, he would let him suffer a little embarrassment too. 

How can I be!

You don't even smile so don't be so full of yourself!

Not like YOU have a partner! 

When Giyu woke up in his body after another swap, he found only red marker scratches on the skin of his left arm. He could almost imagine Tanjiro complaining and writing by himself with a flushed face. 

What he said hit him hard in the pride and he responded on his phone the same way, sending the fact that he was the mature adult there to shit, thus sparking a fight between the two of them that lasted for the next few exchanges. 

You don't have anyone either! 

They forgot about the notes on their phones and both decided to blurt out what they wanted to say as erasable ink messages on their skins. 

They found themselves with vague, weightless insults like "fool" or "idiot" written on their cheeks as they woke up, which they probably wrote while looking in the mirror, as if they were actually replying to the other in person out loud. 

I…

I…

Yeah, it had been a pretty long month. 

I'm single because I want to be! 

I'm single because I want to be! 

Tomioka grunts as he hears the alarm sound too close to his head. His face sinks into the pillow and a few seconds after waking up he can recognize the smell on it and why his head feels cooler and lighter than usual. 

He is in Tanjiro's body.

The weight of his body is pushed by his arms after the alarm finishes ringing. Giyu blinks a couple of times until he gets used to the morning light coming through the closed shoji doors and recognizes the place that greets him.

It's the same room, but it seems to be earlier than usual.

He lets out a surrendered sigh and feels the earrings on the sides of his face flutter with the gentle movement of his head. His hand reflexively reaches up to take them off, but stops halfway remembering what Tanjiro told him. 

A small pout forms on his lips, thinking that he won't do it for his sake.

Tomioka turns as the door opens and Nezuko's image appears. She's smiling as usual, the only difference being that she's wearing her long hair in a high ponytail.

"It's time to go!" she exclaims as she does every morning "Hurry up brother!"

Giyu doesn't answer because she has already disappeared down the hallway. He stands up, stretches and slouches backwards to finish waking up.

Tanjiro's winter uniform is not hanging on the wall in front of him as usual, so he has to look for it in the closet. Perhaps he has forgotten to leave it ready as he always does. 

It doesn't take him long to get dressed and brush his teeth; then he heads for the stairs to meet Tanjiro's family for breakfast. 

"In the last few days the comet Tiamat has been visible, moving in the same direction as the sun from east to west from our perspective."

The clock reads 7:26 a.m.; as he approaches the dining room, he can hear the television on, filling the silence and accompanying the scent of freshly brewed tea. 

The room is cool. The change of season is beginning to show, but it is not yet so drastic. Giyu doesn't pay too much attention to what the girls are saying on the program and pauses in the doorframe. 

Urokodaki's mask rests on the table. Nezuko and he have steaming glasses of tea in their hands and turn their faces at the same time as they feel him appear. 

"Why the uniform?" asks Nezuko between amused and quizzical. 

Giyu just makes a little “huh?" and cocks his head in confusion. 

The water of the creek beside the trail carries with it the fallen leaves from the trees downstream along the mountain. They have changed color with autumn and their texture is rough. They crunch as they pass over those on the ground and their sound is the only thing Giyu has heard in the last half hour, besides the chirping of birds hidden among the trees. 

He is wearing sportswear just like Nezuko.  And maybe it took him longer than it should have to stumble up the stairs back to the room after being told it's Saturday and they're going to the mountain. 

But it's not his fault if Tanjiro didn't leave a note on his phone to let him know. Or maybe he did, Giyu hasn't checked it yet.  

"Grandpa..." Nezuko sounds tired beside him. Like Tomioka, she's carrying a backpack with food and has stopped a couple of times to settle its weight on her shoulders. "Why is the body of our shrine’s god so far away?".

Urokodaki takes the lead. He carries his staff in one of his hands and his gait is steady and synchronized with his feet. He wears his mask and its paint gleams in the sun's rays, which are filtering through the branches despite the wear and tear and years of use. His long, dull hair is tied back with a red cord and Tomioka thinks for a second that he should get one of those when he returns to Tokyo. 

"By Haganezuka, I really don't know." he answers her with an almost joking tone without turning to look at them. 

"Who's that?" Giyu turns to look at his side without knowing who he is talking about. 

Nezuko looks at him puzzled and obvious before speaking and seeing him raise his shoulders "What? He's famous!". 

From the left side of the road the open landscape of Lake Itomori can be seen. A few wires, pylons and trees get in the way, obscuring even the town houses from view in the distance, but somehow that just makes the composition of the panorama more pleasing. 

A while passes in which there is only silence between them. The soft October wind and the familiar comfort of belonging. It's strange. Giyu has never been one to interact with people and since he was little he had a habit of hiding behind Tsutako when talking to new people. 

Now, being with these people he met over a month ago under the strangest of circumstances, he doesn't feel uncomfortable or the nagging need to avoid them.  On the contrary, he finds it eerily warm and familiar, as if he really had spent a lifetime together with them.

"Tanjiro, Nezuko," Urokodaki calls. Both he and Nezuko return the gaze that was fixed on the scenery to the front upon hearing him, but Tomioka takes a second longer to do so as he remembers that he is also addressing him. The man hasn't turned around or stopped, but his voice comes out from under the mask again "Do you know what Musubi means?"

"Musubi?" Tomioka repeats, still not used to the more jovial tone in his voice. He watches as Nezuko quickens her pace to her grandfather's level and reflexively does the same, standing on the opposite side of him from her. 

"Musubi it's the old way of calling the local guardian god, the creator of the dance." he explains, this time turning a little, pointing the nose of his mask towards him first and then towards his granddaughter.

Giyu doesn't quite understand the traditions of this family. In the rules he has with Tanjiro there is one concerning the temple: 

If my grandfather mentions something about the temple, just nod and don't say anything. 

He hasn't had any problem following it, having never been someone religious, but after realizing the importance of the temple and its customs with these people, Tomioka couldn't help but get curious in his head. Therefore, Urokodaki's words capture his full attention. His voice is calm, husky and with a hint of eloquence.  

"This word has profound meaning."

Soon the mountain scenery changes as they climb. Orange is replaced by green that remains untouched all year round. Tall, leafy trees, almost completely blocking out the sun's path, but not so much as to leave the site in gloom. Rather, they are ethereal, quiet shadows in the shimenawa belts that hug the tree trunks. 

«Tying threads is Musubi. Connecting people is Musubi. The flow of time is Musubi. These are all the god’s power»

Urokodaki speaks and Giyu listens. He does so with the same attention as Nezuko, without stopping his gait. 

He remembers the threads. That complicated art he struggled with several times; its colors and patterns. The order of the weaving and the contrast. Their texture and the sound of pulling them tight. Even the aroma of the workshop where they work. Everything is special, has a meaning, a reason, and Giyu can't help the sharp sense of understanding the more he listens.  

«So the braided cords we make are the god’s art and represent the flow of time itself and lives of the past, present and future»

Tomioka begins to feel that his gait is now mechanical. The backpack is suddenly heavier and the sweat from the physical exertion on the T-shirt he is wearing is more annoying. 

And then his mind is far away. Far away from there. 

The lives of the past? As in, having been someone before? 

Tomioka has come to understand that fate can run amok in finding no other explanation for what is happening to him with Tanjiro, but he had never thought of anything like that. 

Previous lives. He remembers listening to some girls in college talking about regression and the whole world of hypnosis. He also remembers ignoring them and thinking they were the stuff of occult fanatics like Inosuke. 

«They converge and take shape. They twist, tangle, sometimes unravel, break, then connect again. Musubi -knotting. That’s time.»

But now, hearing Tanjiro's grandfather speak so confidently, as if it's not the first time he's said those words; as if it's a rehearsed story, makes a strange feeling settle in his chest.  Almost like an unknown longing for something he has never experienced. A nostalgia that seeps under his skin and entangles, squeezing hard, very hard. 

For a second and for some reason he doesn't understand, the dreams he's had in the last few weeks come back to him. Like flashes from an old movie that pass in the blink of an eye and leave the painful drag of twinges in his temple. 

Perhaps the heat is getting to him.  

They stop after walking for a long while, when his legs threaten to cramp and his breathing is more erratic. 

The spot is a small rock ledge on the mountain covered by a tree. It is shady enough for them to rest and have lunch around noon. With the blue sky and forest all around. 

Urokodaki pours black tea and hands it to Giyu. He thanks before taking it and bringing it to his lips. The liquid passes in one mouthful, cooling his throat and quenching the almost desperate thirst he suddenly feels.

"I want some too!" exclaims Nezuko towards him with an exhausted half-smile, but before he can hand her the small cup, they both hear Grandpa's low chuckle coming out somewhat muffled from under the mask. 

"That's also Musubi." he says, picking up on the previous theme. Tomioka doesn't notice the moment when Urokodaki takes the small cup from his hands to pour more tea and give it to Nezuko. 

«Whether it be water, rice or sake, when a person consumes something, and it joins their soul, that's Musubi. So today's offering is an important costum that connects the god, and people. »

Giyu can't help but be surprised at the sudden reality of the weight of what they are doing now. His eyebrows threaten to form a pinch from the pit beginning to form in his stomach, but he manages to suppress it and concentrates on eating from the bento now in his hands. 

He shouldn't be doing this. 

The forest scenery has disappeared and as they approach the top of the mountain they are surrounded by moss-covered rocks and grass on the ground covering the earth. 

Tomioka has turned around several times and the scenery makes his breath catch each time. A blanket of clouds stretching into the distance, broken only by the mountain peaks rising to reach the perpetual blue of the sky.   

" Hey, I see it!" Nezuko has stepped forward on the path and exclaims with a combination of relief and excitement as she continues walking. 

Giyu stops at the same spot where she was and takes a big breath of air puffing out his chest. The earrings flutter in the wind, tingling on his neck and he stands for a few seconds unable to move from his spot. 

He couldn't say what he imagined the place they were going was going look like because he didn't ask any more than necessary so as not to cause suspicion, but it definitely wasn't anything like this. The top of the mountain is a huge crater; the plain formed in the center is painted by green grass and small streams, thin or thick, scattered in a chaotic and messy way. 

And in the center of it all, a single tree with a somewhat ancient appearance despite its vibrant green color and all the leaves on its branches.  

“That's the body of Kamado Shrine’s god?” Tomioka blurts out, almost out of breath.

They carefully descend to the grass and continue. It crunches with each step of their shoes and the sound of running water becomes more present the closer they get to the stream that separates the body from them. The distance separating them from the tree seems shorter than it really is. 

“Beyond this point is Kakuriyo” Urokodaki says in a serene voice. The tip of his staff makes a dull thud as it touches a rock at the water's edge.  “It means the underworld” 

The three of them cross over the rocks with small jumps and reach the tree. Nearby, the body begins to take shape. A huge stone that Tomioka had not noticed lies motionless next to the tree. As they walk in front of it, they see the entrance to a small dark cave below. 

Urokodaki rummages through Nezuko's backpack and pulls out a pair of white porcelain bottles, sealed and decorated with red strings forming a bow. 

“In exchange for returning to this world, you must leave behind what is most important to you” Urokodaki approaches and hands one of them to Giyu. For some reason, Tomioka knows he is looking at him in the eyes as he says it even though the mask interrupts him. “The Kuchikamisake”

The porcelain is cold to the touch, unlike the string. It feels heavy in his hands and Tomoka finds it hard to swallow saliva. 

The feeling of being an intruder grows stronger, squeezing his chest uncomfortably. It's not right for him to be here. 

He just woke up convinced it would be just another day in the life of an 18-year-old boy and never expected to be part of an activity at the temple the boy tells him to be so careful with. 

Tanjiro is the one who should be doing this. He should be here, with his family being part of something so important, but fate seems to be obsessed with saying sike! and now it is Giyu who is here, uncomfortable with just breathing near the god’s body. 

The bottle burns in his hands and the earrings are heavier than usual in his ears. 

“You'll offer it inside the god’s body. It's half of you.” he finally explains to both of them. 

He feels Nezuko move first and disappears under the rock. It takes Giyu a little more willpower, but in the end he just breathes and looks intently at the sake one last time. 

And then, an almost mellifluous thought comes to him that calms his anxiety and softens his heart.  

“Half of Tanjiro…” 

The sky is painted in colors. The sun casts its last rays, reflecting on the clouds drifting in the afternoon wind. The way back is easier and lighter than the way up and the forest is quiet at that hour. The atmosphere around them is pleasant and Giyu feels more relaxed than before.

They are about to leave the mountain and Tomioka feels the tiredness creeping up on him more and more, but none of the three of them stop until they are on a ledge towards the village and cause a flock of birds to startle and fly away from them.   

Tomioka looks ahead to where the birds have disappeared, to the water of Lake Itomori shimmering under the trees and reflecting the lights of the village that begin to turn on welcoming the night. The smoke from the chimneys also catches the eye, contrasting with the naturalness of the landscape. 

"It's the magic hour!" says Nezuko with an excited smile, shielding the sunset light with one of her hands before looking up at the sky above her. 

"Magic hour?" asks Giyu curiously looking in her direction once he is at her side.

She seems to ignore him, more focused on looking for something specific among the clouds in the sky before speaking again.  "Maybe we'll see the comet!" 

"Comet?"

Urokodaki gasps and exclaims suddenly, somewhat curious and surprised behind his back and asks him something that makes him turn around, almost urgently.

Giyu, for some reason, is able to see himself from Urokodaki's perspective. His jet hair, long and messy falling over his shoulders. His slanted eyes and pale skin. As if he saw himself in a mirror and then felt himself falling into a dark void.

"Tanjiro... you're dreaming right now, aren't you?" 

A void in which he hears, with total clarity, voices speaking to each other with a melancholy and pain that makes his heart clench and his throat close.  

P̶r̶o̶m̶i̶s̶e̶…?̶ ̶

.

.

.

̶I̶ ̶p̶r̶o̶m̶i̶s̶e̶

Chapter Text

"Nee, Tomioka-San, have you ever been in love?" 

Giyu felt his shoulders twitch as Mitsuri finished speaking. He turned to look at her questioningly, cocking his head slightly, but only received a light giggle from her. 

Tomioka hadn't expected to strike up a conversation with her so quickly. 

It had been a few minutes since they had finished the special training between the two of them and at the moment they were just enjoying the serenity of the afternoon; being able to cool off and let their guard down if only for a second. 

He had noticed that, upon appearing, the girl couldn't stand prolonged silences compared to Giyu, but he hadn't expected her to initiate a dialogue as soon as they sat down under the shade of one of the trees at the water estate. 

Giyu had not talked too much with Mitsuri. She was an emotional and nervous girl from the beginning and Tomioka tried not to interact too much with someone like that, but he supposed he should start doing that since he agreed to be part of the training and had been spending time with his fellow pillars more often. 

That' s what Tanjiro would like anyway. 

"Why do you ask?" 

"I'm just curious," she replied simply, but still not letting up on what she was saying. 

Tomioka turned to look at the clouds in the sky. So calm that no one would imagine the hell they were living through thanks to the demons. 

Mitsuri was still staring at him. Attentive and expectant for the answer to the open question. 

He thought deeply about Kanroji's question and searched within himself for an answer, however, he found nothing. 

Giyu wasn't sure if he had really come to feel that way about someone on the outside. Love. 

It may have happened to him with Sabito in the past, for he had to admit that the attachment and affection he felt for him went beyond a merely brotherly and platonic one, but he wasn't sure he could categorize it as having been in love. 

He wouldn't know the difference, or how to even notice it. It was a strange concept he had only heard of in Tsutako stories he vaguely remembered. 

"I'm not sure," was what he said at last without looking at her, surrendering to his own inexperience. 

Mitsuri let out a soft sound of understanding as she fiddled with the messy hair in her braid and turned her gaze to the same nonexistent point in the sky. 

"You know," Kanroji began, in a sweet, calm tone of voice he had never heard her speak in before, "when someone loves something, they sparkle. That's why people fall in love so irrationally."

This time, Giyu did turn to meet her gaze, curious about what she was saying. 

She had that unique glow she acquired whenever she was excited, but compared to the previous times, Mitsuri seemed calm. With an almost serious and even professional demeanor somehow, as if she was talking about something of utmost importance and care that left Giyu really disconcerted. 

"And you, Tomioka-san, you have had a particular glow since I came here," she continued in the same manner. 

Giyu felt his mouth suddenly go dry and he could swear he could hear his own heartbeat increase. 

"You may not notice it, but the others do. The way you act gives you away." 

His hands were sweating even though he wasn't holding anything and Tomioka couldn't help but swallow thickly when he understood what Mitsuri was trying to tell him. 

But Tomioka didn't know if he could even consider such a thing. Letting his mind wander until he imagined that it was what was happening to him, although well, Giyu wasn't sure he could ever understand what she was referring to.

To that particular glow he had seen in so many people, but doubted it had ever been or was in him. 

"I think you are mistaken," he said, interrupting her words and avoiding her gaze. 

Mitsuri laughed again then, almost as if she was making fun of his naivety and him saying that, but he knew she didn't mean it maliciously "I'm the love pillar, Tomioka. I know what I'm talking about."

This time he didn't answer anything. He merely pursed his lips, because he knew she was right. 

"You're in love now, aren't you Giyu?" Mitsuri finally said dropping the formalities, and, although it was a question, to Tomioka it sounded more like a statement. 

And this time, the image of Tanjiro smiling that same morning flashed before his eyes and Giyu broke out in a cold sweat for a second.

What in the world…?

Giyu wakes up startled. He takes a deep, heavy breath, as if he couldn't breathe for some reason and before he knows it he is sitting up in his bed. His body trembles, his hands sink behind him into the mattress from his weight and he feels one of his cheeks tingle with a sudden wetness.

Giyu touches his face, cheekbones and eyes, discovering that there are indeed... silent tears that have leaked for some apparent reason.

" Tears ?" his hand comes down to the level of his chest. Traces of tears have lingered on his fingertips and glisten in the little light that filters through the badly closed curtains. He is still shaking, but now he breathes more calmly than before "Why?". 

Maybe the last time he woke up crying was when he was little and had nightmares. Giyu would run to his sister to seek shelter from the darkness of his own room. No matter how tired she was, Tsutako would always smile sleepily and hug him, inviting him into her bed to soothe him. Sometimes she would tell him a story to distract him, and only then would he go back to sleep. 

He will always thank his sister and the story of Beauty and the Beast for taking away his fear of the monsters that haunted his dreams and making his nights more pleasant as a child. 

However, he is now an adult and, although nightmares and strange dreams are sporadic, they are not the reason for waking up with tears in his eyes like that morning. 

Tomioka can' t remember what he was dreaming about. Try as he might to think about it, a void seems to have been created as the seconds pass, and whatever it is, it is no longer there.  

Giyu is startled again when the notification buzzer jolts him out of the silence he's been plunged into. His phone is beside him on the bed and the message glows over a picture he didn't take of Tengen and him somewhere.

Sabito:

I’m almost there. 

Looking forward to it! 

"Sabito?" Giyu picks up the phone and unlocks it. The chat  is open and leaves him very confused after reading what he sent. "What's he talking about?" 

Confusion soon turns to mild frustration as he notices that it must be Tanjiro's doing . The grip of his hand on the phone increases a little and he can feel a bead of sweat slide down his neck. 

"What did Tanjiro do this time?" grumbles Tomioka going into the diary and the last note the boy has left him. His cheeks flare an almost bold red after reading it, finally letting out his panic in a not so disguised shout "A date!?"  

The door makes a dull thud with the wall as he rushes out. Tomioka doesn't turn around, trusting it to close on its own like all the times he's gone out like that. 

Giyu is out of breath after dressing and tidying himself up as best he could in the almost non-existent time he had and tries to finish tying his hair as he makes his way down the stairs taking long jumps. He almost falls a couple of times, but manages to avoid it by steadying himself and continuing on his way. 

He should be thankful, now more than ever, for the short distance between the station and the building where he lives, but, still, the adrenaline burning in his muscles makes him run and run, cursing Tanjiro and the stupid note in the diary a thousand times. 

A date with Sabito-kun tomorrow! 

Meet at 10:30 a.m. at the station! 

“It was what I'd planned, but…” Tanjiro mumbles, but doesn't finish the sentence. He can't.  

Tanjiro has been sitting on the futon since he woke up about ten minutes ago. Steady, staring only at the shoji doors and the blurred reflection of the outside in them. He feels as if he hasn't had enough sleep. His body is heavy. His chest is heavy. He is dragged down by the desire to lie down again and do nothing. 

But he knows he can't. He must ignore the tug of disappointment and get on with his day.

His gaze has settled somewhere on the floor; he barely feels one of his hands move to reach one of the earrings, but now he strokes it, inevitably returning to thoughts of what must be happening in Tokyo right now. Of what has been clenching his gut ever since he opened his eyes and realized he was actually in his body.  

He doesn't notice when Nezuko opens the door, nor the surprised expression that crosses her face at seeing him like this, so deep in his head. "Brother..." she calls. 

Tanjiro straightens up to look at her and gives a fake smile. His eyelids narrow and his voice comes out huskier than he would have liked when he speaks. "Good morning, Nezuko." 

"Are... are you okay?" asks Nezuko, with a tone denoting poorly suppressed concern.

And Tanjiro smiles again in the same manner before nodding and standing up. 

" Perfectly. " 

Giyu arrives at the station almost out of breath and with the hum of one of the trains entering the platforms in the background. He holds onto one of the staircase walls for a few seconds and gives himself one last push before finally climbing up. 

He is hyperventilating a bit. There are a few beads of sweat sliding down his temples and his hair has moved in the wind, but Giyu is more focused on looking for Sabito among the crowd of people and their morning conversations over the loud pounding of his heart in his ears, hoping he hasn't arrived too late. 

“Giyu!” Tomioka turns with a start and finds Sabito leaning directly towards him. Reflexively, he takes a few steps away and sees him straighten up smiling mockingly. 

“Sorry. Did you wait long?” Sabito asks, cocking his head to one side. 

“Hi!” and all that comes out of Giyu's mouth is a nervous stutter that forces him to scratch the back of his neck and look away "Yes-No!”

He only keeps his gaze averted for a second, before returning it to the boy in front of him and finally getting a good look at him. 

Sabito is wearing a pair of blue pants that are tight around his long legs. He wears a somewhat baggy white T-shirt covered by a black shirt unbuttoned at the top, and finally, and what stands out the most, a black colored choker that fits the pale skin of his neck and gets lost behind his usual loose hair on the sides. 

Tomioka for a moment thinks he looks much better than he does, who took the first thing he found that was decent enough for a date. But he has to admit to himself that he literally just found out about it fifteen minutes ago. 

Sabito is now smiling almost sweetly at him and Tomioka curses himself internally because he knows his cheeks are getting disproportionately hot. 

“I just got here” Giyu manages to say, controlling his voice, really hoping not to look strange for staring at him for too long. 

Sabito, however, doesn't seem to notice or perhaps doesn't care. He just widens his smile, stretching the scar on his flushed cheek and ventures to lean once more in his direction and take his hand.

“Good” Sabito's touch is warm and Giyu can't help but startle a little before being dragged away by the boy. “Let's go!” 

Tanjiro is now standing. The futon rolled up in the closet and his bag resting on the floor next to the closed door. 

He must hurry to get down to breakfast with Grandpa and Nezuko, so he tries to fix his uniform as quickly as he can, but if he's honest he feels as if the simple action of moving his hands was too difficult. 

Nezuko will surely tell him off for taking too much time, but he can live with one more scolding from his sister.

He has nothing due today, as his teachers took pity on them because it is festival day.  However, he must prepare to give an English lesson soon; he knows he has to study, but it is a fact that he is going to encounter Giyu's words in his notebook. 

Fuck. Tanjiro has really tried not to think about him. 

Instead, he just wants to focus on going about his day as usual, but Tomioka is there, hovering in his head.  

Unlike other days, however, Tanjiro doesn't worry about what he might have done during the last exchange. It hasn't even crossed his mind what happened the day before when he wasn't in his body. 

But Giyu is simply in his head. 

Tanjiro is thinking about him , and he's had to put on his best light, carefree smile to convince his sister that it hasn't been eating him up inside since he opened his eyes.  

Nezuko wouldn't understand if she knew anyway. He doesn't understand either. 

Because he shouldn't have to care, right?

He... he was the one who wanted things to develop between Sabito and Giyu. 

Who thought it was painful to watch the obvious attraction that existed between the two of them. Who decided in the end to take things into his own hands to take the next step. Who invited Sabito to that date . 

Then why... Why does it hurt ? 

Why does the tense tug of regret squeezes his chest?

Tanjiro has regretted many things throughout his life. It's like a monster that he can't shake off and that only brings him bad things. And it doesn't go away, even when situations pass. 

He could have spent more time with his parents before the accident that took them away. He could have done something for his uncle and convinced him to stay with the family. He could have refused the weight of the sun god's temple. He could have embraced his revulsion and sent it all to hell. 

But he didn't . 

And the regret was still there, but it never felt that way. So emotional and desperate. Never like that, and now he doesn't know how to react or what to do upon realizing that… he doesn't want Giyu to go on that date.  

“He is so lucky” 

The atmosphere has the freshness of early autumn. An October caress. Tanjiro stands in front of his mirror; his reflection stares back at him,but he's not paying too much attention to it; just adjusting the earrings in his ears and pulling his hair back. Bright vermilion in the morning light, the only one listening to his pitiful words.   

“They must be together around now” 

The elevator is quite crowded for Giyu's taste.  Both of them have been pushed towards one of the windows by the crowd and Tomioka does his best to keep his distance and not press his body too much against Sabito's body. 

The position is awkward, he' s had to stand on his tiptoes all this time, as he and Sabito are the same height. Giyu wants to avoid at all costs that their faces are just inches apart, and from the little giggle he's heard from the other boy, he doesn't even want to think about the expression on his face, so he concentrates on controlling the heat in his cheeks and watching the Tokyo landscape recede the higher they go. 

They both hurry out as the doors open and Tomioka feels like he can finally breathe a little easier. The room that greets them is large. Surrounded entirely by large windows and a bright floor filled with lights off for the moment. 

Giyu has never been to the National Art Center, but he must admit that it is much bigger and more striking in person. He's only seen the brochures and photos of the place, but they were never enough to pique his interest.

He didn't even know they were headed there to begin with. He had to suppress his growing nervousness of Sabito holding his hand at first to look back at the note Tanjiro left him where he explains everything about the goddamn date. The place was probably Tengen's idea, who is passionate about art, and now Tomioka has to take a deep breath and prepare himself for the questions that will come from his friend when they meet again.   

Sabito is the one who rushes to one side of the room with an enthusiastic smile on his face, and points to something in the distance that Giyu can't quite make out.    

Tanjiro has no specific expression on his face. He is blank, with his hands moving mechanically and his mind somewhere else hundreds of miles away. 

Maybe... he could go to Tokyo for a few hours? 

It's a risky and far-fetched idea driven by that desperate tug, but it becomes clearer as the seconds pass and the growing anxiety of wanting to move and do something. 

Maybe he can tell Nezuko that he'll take the train to a date-which isn't necessarily his because she'll probably think he has someone in the city.

It wouldn't be a problem, since the only train out of Itomori goes to Tokyo. All he would have to do is walk to the platform, get in and sit back and admire the scenery as it changes from green open fields, to colossal concrete buildings and annoying artificial lights. 

But what would Giyu think if he suddenly arrived: would it bother him or surprise him? 

He might not like it. Anyone would be upset if someone came to see them without warning, anyway. 

He could try calling him on the phone. His number was saved in his contacts after one of the swaps, so he would just have to dial, wait for the call to come in, and hear his voice externally and not in his head being him.    

It wouldn't hurt to imagine the meeting now, right? To let his mind fly and visualize Giyu in front of him.

What would Giyu do if they met?

Would it be awkward? 

Or maybe...would he be a bit glad to see him?  

He could go to just see him. That's it. Maybe he could work up the courage to go and talk to him.  That would surely be enough to satiate whatever the desperate tugging inside him meant and be able to get back before nightfall. His friends would be waiting for him to go to the festival anyway. 

Tanjiro wants - no, needs - to see him. To look into his eyes and recognize that it is him, because he is certain that, if they see each other, no matter the place, the time or the reason, they will both know. 

That it was Giyu who was inside Tanjiro, and that it was Tanjiro who was inside Giyu. 

Tanjiro then feels excitement coursing through his veins, determined to do it. To leave his house, take the train and go to Tokyo, but before he can even consider moving, he feels his body freeze and he comes back to himself. 

He has not moved from his position in front of the mirror at any time. He doesn't notice that his hands drop to the level of his chest. Instead, he is focused on the image reflected in front of him. Now looking at it in real detail. 

First of all, he realizes that he has started to cry at some point. The tears are silent and keep falling involuntarily. 

He could try to stop them, he could wipe them away, he could go downstairs for breakfast, he could do anything else, but he simply can't.

His head doesn't allow him to do anything but look at himself in the mirror. 

Or at least a version of him that he doesn't recognize. 

And he's looking at it.

He blinks.

And he stares.

"I... why....?"

Tanjiro is sure he put on his school uniform a few moments ago. He can see the empty hanger where it was hanging in the open closet from where he is.  

But the thing is, the Tanjiro in the mirror is not wearing the uniform. 

He is wearing a haori with a checkered pattern. A strange hakama and even stranger black clothes. 

The hairstyle is the same. The face is the same. The eyes are the same. The earrings are the same. There is no doubt that it is him, but Tanjiro blinks several times to check that it is not a figment of his imagination. He really is seeing himself looking so... different .

His gaze is now drawn to his own clothes. The winter school uniform; the same sweater crumpled at the waist; the same white shirt with the scruffy collar and the same pants in that nasty brown color. 

He's definitely wearing it, but then why... does he look like that? 

Tanjiro should feel scared about this. He should react in some way and feel it as something unfamiliar, but he doesn't. Rather, it's something that bothers him and that he can't shake off. 

It's... that desperate tug he's felt all this time, hooked to that something in the back of his mind that's trapped. Something Tanjiro thought had to do with Giyu and his date today and regret, but it seems to be something more than that. Drawing attention to itself, but too distant to make it out yet. 

A sense of deja vu. 

This image; this Tanjiro reflected in the mirror, is not unfamiliar to him. He simply knows it. He has seen it at some point in the past, yet he cannot say when exactly it was. 

For what other explanation would there be for the scar to be in the same place on his face? 

For the earrings to receive him fluttering on the sides of his head? 

Tanjiro is so deep in the recesses of his memory trying to remember, that he hasn't noticed that his hand has gone up to his face. Up to caress the reddened skin of his forehead. 

Where has he seen himself in this way?

In a photograph. In a video. In a dream-  

And that's when he feels it. 

The tug. 

The drag. 

The prick.

His scar burns. 

His two hands come up to rest completely on it like a reflex to the pain. His brow furrows, his eyes close and everything seems to start moving. 

Tanjiro loses his balance. He staggers and his feet tangle as he tries to steady himself and grab onto something, but all he manages to do is slip and take the mirror with him.

His head spins. He falls feeling the weight of his body dragged to the ground, causing a sharp pain in his lower back. 

The sound of glass shattering is heard, and when Tanjiro opens his eyes again, he finds himself face to face with his shattered reflection in what is left of the mirror, now on the floor. 

His head feels as if it is going to explode in his hands and there is a ringing in it and in his ears that turns into a high-pitched whistling and vertigo. 

What-

He doesn't feel present. Maybe he's breathing hard and maybe the tears continue unabated, but Tanjiro can only watch as his reflection recedes from him, distorts and narrows until he can see nothing but images passing in sequence in front of his eyes.  

Images he has seen before.   

...before the demons come out...

Nezuko...don't die!

Your brother will definitely save you!

What's-

Don't take anyone else from me.

Don't humiliate yourself like that to give your enemies a chance to kill you! 

That voice-

Look for an old man by the name of Urokodaki Sakonji. 

When you find him, tell him Giyu Tomioka sent you.

Is-

His heart has risen up into his throat, choking him and making it hard to swallow. His chest is tight, too tight, and his breathing is fast and shallow. 

No-

Tanjiro, what do you plan to do with your sister when she eats a human?

Crying is unworthy, so shut up already.

Keep winning for me, Tanjiro.

Impressive. I'm very proud. 

Tanjiro, take care of Giyu for me, will you?  

The images flood him. 

Tanjiro knows where he has seen all this. 

They are his dreams. His nightmares. Everything that haunted him at night as a child. 

No-

I will never forgive you, Muzan Kibutsuji. 

Besides, if you analyze all that blood and create the medicine, it won't be just for Nezuko, will it?

Tamayo-san, thank you for your concern, but Nezuko will stay with me.

No-

Everything came back when he started switching places with Giyu. 

It's taking shape. Becoming clearer. No longer looking like blurry or homemade recordings and becoming something that can be seen clearly passing in front of him.   

The faces. The voices. 

He can perceive it all now. 

Tanjiro is blinking, slow and methodical. His eyes remain fixed on the mirrored glass and everything that passes in front of him. His skin tingles. His hands go numb and the feeling he has of his hair is becoming more and more distant. 

He can feel the blood in his body pounding in his ears. 

No-

My name is Zenitsu Agatsuma! 

Please do what you can to save me Tanjiro! 

It was my duty because I'm the eldest in the family. 

Tanjiro... The box... I protected it. 

I'm Inosuke Hashibira! Don't forget! 

They-

That's not a bond! It's a lie, a deception.

That's a genuine bond, and it will be mine! 

Look, Tanjiro. This is your father's kagura dance. 

That is...

Our family uses fire to repel harm and disaster, we offer this dance to Musubi along with our prayers, at the beginning and middle of each year. 

Is!

His life. 

These are not dreams. 

These are not scenarios of his childish imagination. 

You did well holding on until I came. 

Take your sister and leave. 

Tomioka-San... 

You are here because you, Tanjiro Kamado, will stand trial. 

Tomioka-San is amazing. 

What difference does it make of what they chose to end their lives with? 

Tanjiro, send my regards to Tamayo. 

These are memories. 

 Urokodaki, Tomioka. They risked their lives to defend us. 

You have a beautiful soul, you know? 

I've wondered, Tanjiro, what did you do to make Tomioka act so differently? 

Remember, the heart is what drives people, so it can be strengthened according to your need.

Tomioka-San , thank you very much for Nezuko.

His memories

Learn from me! Become my disciple! 

I feel like I'm having a nightmare.

I'm sorry, I'm sorry! 

Maybe I should show you your father coming back to life?

Now is not the time to admire him, you idiot!

Father, give me strength! 

From a previous life.

Upper moon...3?

Because you grow old and eventually die.

To grow old, to die, is what gives meaning and beauty to a human life. 

I will fulfill my duty!  

His previous life. 

Don't run away you bastard!

Rengoku didn't lose! 

I'm going to die soon.

No matter how weak and unworthy you feel, keep your heart burning. 

Grit your teeth and move forward. 

Where he was also Tanjiro Kamado. 

Kyojuro was an idiot! 

You use the solar breath, don't you? 

Not being alone is a cause of happiness. 

Where demons existed and haunted people.  

This reluctance is what makes us slayers weaken little by little. 

We will go instead.

To a showy place brimming with sensuality and desire. 

It smells of impurity. 

Zenitsu disappeared. 

It's the upper moon 6.

Where his family was slaughtered and his sister was turned into a demon. 

The question is not whether I can... I have to!

I can't match Urokodaki or Tomioka. 

Make your heart burn! 

Where he became a demon slayer and vowed to bring Nezuko back. 

I am not a chosen one.

Breathe, Tanjiro, please! 

That'll make you lose something important someday. 

Go sing her a lullaby or something.

Tanjiro Kamado! I thank you! 

Where he saw friends and comrades die.

Why do you always apologize?

It makes you angry to be so weak, huh?

We've got the score! We're going to win!

That's a lie. You don't really think that. 

Where he fought against Muzan. 

Masters at their craft will always find their way to the same place. 

You' re awake.

Tomioka-san...

He...has he been coming to see me for a month?

Where he died thanks to that fucking Sun God's dance .

It's his fault for creating a sword that could actually break. 

Oh, it's a letter from Tomioka-san!

Your eyes are shining.

Kanroji Mitsuri supports the Kamado siblings! 

It is clear now. 

Inosuke had told him at some point, among all the talks they had at high school, that the existence of past lives was a possibility. That unthinkable idea reached his ears, and he even joked about it to himself some time later. But now fate is back to do its thing and rub his face in how fucking innocent and naive he's been. 

I have no idea how you managed to become a demon slayer.

Yoriichi Zeroshiki

I know that face, I have seen it somewhere before. 

Looks aren't the only things that are inherited. 

Tokitou-kun just wasted his time.

Helping people also ends up being useful to you at the end of the day. 

Because now he understands. 

Even without knowing it, the past has had a huge influence on his life today. Clinging like a parasite to all the suffering he experienced then. 

It has remained in his soul.  In the memory of his genes.  

Then the samurai guy must be that swordsman with the earrings. 

I'm the only one who will become a Pillar! 

She's our little beacon of hope. 

Use it Tanjiro! 

But I believe that Nezuko, in the near future, will be able to overpower the sun. 

And that fear, his fear of that dance; his repulsion towards the temple, are only the traces that have remained, what has followed him in his unconscious.  

Those movements that have been engraved in his muscle memory and that burn. That suffocate. 

I'm afraid you're becoming a magnet for demons. 

Please don't say that Tomioka-San. 

A special training session has begun. 

Giyu-San! 

I'm not the Water Pillar. 

Could you talk to Giyu? 

Because only memories are eternal. Immortal. 

And his soul knew what it was that had killed him in his previous life. 

Fuckfuckfuckfuck-

Understanding hits Tanjiro in the face like a bright, fiery trail. The realization. The memories. It all comes back. 

What's the matter, Giyu ? 

His name was Sabito. 

I'm not worthy to inherit the title of Water Pillar. 

I promised Sabito-kun! 

The weight and volume of the world seem to come at him. He is hyperventilating. The air is coming in and out erratically. The sensitivity of his body is there, but at the same time not. It itches and tingles, but fades and leaves him numb at the same time. 

Giyu-San, doesn't that thing Sabito left you keep you together? 

Tanjiro, sorry to keep you waiting, but I'm going to train too. 

He' s petting my head... 

His insides seem to swirl and churn. He feels gushing nausea and it's a relief to still be sitting on the floor because he's sure he might pass out. 

In his head, everything that was, is playing on loop. What he lived through and what it all ended in. 

You have no right to go to such lengths! 

No matter what others say, I accept you, Tanjiro Kamado. 

Thank you Tanjiro, but this is something I really have to do. 

Tanjiro had already lived before. He had already been someone before. 

He had already met all the people in his life. 

Somehow, all those people influenced Tanjiro in the past. And he met them again in this life. 

His sister, Nezuko. His grandfather, Urokodaki. His friends, Zenitsu, Inosuke. His uncle, Yoriichi. His teacher, Rengoku. 

Giyu-  

Tanjiro had already met Giyu. 

Before they started switching places, they had already been Tanjiro and Giyu. 

Giyu-San! 

And Tanjiro had already fallen in love with him. 

Tanjiro, when are you going to admit that you are in love with the Water Pillar ? 

Huh?

Oh, Tanjiro. Love is a secret that eyes cannot hide. Especially yours. 

He had, long before he even rationalized how he felt about him in the present. 

The moon is beautiful tonight, don't you think Giyu ?

It's small, I can hardly see it. 

The moon is beautiful no matter how it looks. 

He had fallen, so deeply in love with him. 

Thank you for being so kind to me! 

Thank you... for being with me. 

With his kindness. With his actions. His scent. His warmth. His looks. That side of Giyu that only came out when he was with him. 

His treatment with Tanjiro back then and all that he did for him. 

Just Giyu.

Giyu is amazing.

He had promised himself to get to know him. To be with him. To be a part of his life, beyond the demon extermination corps. 

Tanjiro! 

He had set out to mend his cracked heart no matter the cost. 

He had loved him with each passing day. 

So his name is Giyu , tell me is he someone special to you? 

And he still does. 

Giyu san…

He still loves Giyu Tomioka, with all his heart. 

That's why he found himself eerily expectant of trading places with Giyu.

That's why he began to enjoy reading the notes that were left.

That's why he felt a tightness inside his chest every time he thought of Tomika together with Sabito. 

That's why he felt disappointed when he woke up in the morning and realized that he was in his body.

That's why he regretted so painfully having set up that date. 

Because.....from the bottom of my heart.... I..... love you Giyu.

Because he loves him.   

And he had told him that before promising that they would find each other again.

Listen to me, no matter in what life or in what time, wherever you are in this world, I will find you again .

He had promised...

Promise...?

I promise. 

Giyu promised.

"...njiro!"

Tanjiro blinks. 

"Tanjiro!" 

One. Two. Three more times until he finally notices his sister's face contract in fearful concern in front of him. 

He hadn't realized she had entered his room if not until that moment. 

She probably heard the thump of his body falling or the mirror shattering. 

Whatever it was, Nezuko is now kneeling on the floor. She has pushed the glass shards away and holds him by the shoulders tightly. Her grip trembles in the clothes of his uniform and there are tears threatening to fall from her eyes. 

He doesn't like to see her so distressed. 

"Tanjiro!" she calls again, and the sentence breaks for an instant "W-what's wrong!". 

"Nezuko...?" his own voice feels distant and his throat is dry as he utters her name hesitantly. He blinks again, rationalizing that she is indeed in front of him. 

She is there. Alive. Healthy. Human .   

"Brother, what's wrong!" Nezuko insists, extremely upset to see her brother in such a state. Pale, trembling from head to toe and with endless tears sliding down his cheeks.  

But Tanjiro takes longer than he would like to speak again. 

After all, how can he do so when the tug of his unconscious has finally emerged from the shadows and shown him the truth of its meaning? 

"He promised...," he finally murmurs, without looking away from his sister. Without moving from his spot. 

"What?" 

"He...promised...." Tanjiro repeats. His voice is gaining volume and urgency as the seconds pass. 

How to tell her that they are both reincarnations of themselves from a previous life where everything was demons and suffering? 

" Who? What are you talking about?" Nezuko frowns in confusion, and becomes even more upset when her brother gives her a squeeze back, grabbing her by the shoulders out of the blue "Tanjiro!" 

"He promised!" Tanjiro exclaims and a sharp inhale follows "He promised he'd find me!". 

From his throat comes a hiccup and then another and another and another and another until finally they turn into uncontrollable sobs. Pitiful wails that fill the room and break his sister's heart. 

Nezuko hadn't realized how much she knew her brother, how natural his movements and gestures are until she saw them collapse in front of her.  

"And I... I set him up with someone else!"

She may be at her most confused and not understand what her brother means by everything he is talking about. She may feel desperate for wanting to make him feel better, but she catches him in a quick, anxious hug anyway when his weight finally falls squarely on top of her.

Tanjiro clings to his sister tightly. His face sinks into her chest and tears begin to dampen his clothes. But he can only cry. Cry and keep crying.   

For how to explain to her... that the man he loves has slipped through his fingers again?  

"I lost him Nezuko!" he says as a last choked sob, the meaning of which squeezes his soul and makes his heart writhe in pain "I lost Giyu again!"

Chapter Text

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. 

"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. 

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. 

Chapter Text

This... definitely shouldn't be happening.

Panic was starting to well up in his throat. It was hard enough for Giyu to control his breathing and the trembling of his hands, and that the rest of the demon didn't seem to start disintegrating just like his head was putting him even more on edge.

But what made his heart sink with fear inside him was seeing Tanjiro's body being thrown roughly against one of the walls of the place.

"TANJIRO!" the scream came out in desperation, bubbling up in emotions that can't be contained as he watched him lose consciousness right after. 

Giyu needed to do something. Now. The boy had overstepped his bounds and Akaza's decapitated body was hurtling in his direction. So before he could plan anything concrete, his body moved, propelling himself forward and grabbing what was left of his katana from the debris the fight had left behind. 

The tidal strike came between the two protecting Tanjiro just in time, however, and despite the deep cuts Tomioka managed to make to Akaza's chest, he regenerated just the same.  

The merciless onslaught of the fourth posture resounded again after attacking again. Giyu manages to stand up awkwardly, exhausted behind the demon and on the other side of Tanjiro. 

"Hold it" The deep breaths of air coming in burned him, his muscles still tense, but Tomioka needed to keep the demon's attention on him and remind him of who he had been fighting since the beginning.  "I...am still...alive here!"

Giyu couldn't afford to hesitate at a time like this. 

"If you want to kill Tanjiro, you'll have to kill me first!" 

Such a bad situation in which he was completely numb. His eyes were contracting, threatening to make him lose consciousness if he even thought of blinking. He could hear nothing but a high-pitched beeping in his left ear and his right arm had stopped responding to him. 

He also knew that he was reaching his limit. That now his body was about to take its toll on him for having used all his strength. Tomioka felt that everything in him weighed like chains due to muscle fatigue.  

Compared to him, a mere human, the demon had no idea what that meant and knew that the only reason he had endured fighting with all his strength up to this point was because he could use his breath.  

And yet, all of that was left behind with conviction boiling in his veins. Like a raging ocean crashing against a cliff. All that he had been entrusted with was related to the future.

Because Giyu would not let his friends or family die in front of him again. 

I will protect you. 

I will protect you, Tanjiro. 

Just as you would have done for me.

Yes. He wouldn't let someone he loved di-

Someone he-

The sound of pencil dragging on paper has become a regular thing in the last few days.   

The drawings cover every inch on the surface of the wall to which his desk is next to. Vaguely illuminated by the lamp next to him that emanates a somewhat annoying heat. Despite having turned on the fan, Giyu feels the sweat on his neck and temples. 

Autumn had already begun, but for Giyu that night the room still felt hot and humid, almost as if the residue of summer had stayed with him. 

So much so that beads of sweat finish sliding down his jaw to finally land on the sheet he's been working on, getting lost in its weight and charcoal residue. 

Giyu reaches for the bottle on the desk. His gulp of water afterwards is loud. The liquid escaping from between the corners of his lips and the nozzle sliding down his neck. A continuous gulp that leaves nothing but the rustle of empty plastic in his hands.   

For Tomioka it's not usual to go through sleepless nights. He has never had a problem with it, but when it did happen, it was because he was really stressed about finishing the current college project or assignment. 

It was never because of something to do with himself . With his emotions . 

And lately they have been going astray. More present and drawing attention to themselves. They distract him. They make him shut himself in his own bubble.

Because Giyu had never considered falling in love .

Say, he had felt something for Sabito. Yes, he liked Sabito for many years, but he never really felt that love that the stories talk about. 

He knew it would happen. It was normal when you grow up surrounded by an environment full of love . 

His parents, who were now enjoying their retirement abroad, were always very close and so, so in love that as a child they made him feel gooey . His sister, who met her current husband at the age of thirteen and two years later it seemed they could never be apart again . 

Yeah, it was inevitable to think that something like that would happen with him as well. 

Perhaps a part of Tomioka came to think that with Sabito it would be like that. They had known each other for years, they complemented each other and understood each other and the feelings for him came up at some point; he just had to tie up the ends to come to such a conclusion. He just accepted it. He told himself it was true and that was the end of it. 

But Giyu never considered the aspect of falling when someone is in love. That thing that differentiates it from being a simple liking or attraction for another person. 

Love . 

He loves his family. He loves his friends. But he never loved Sabito. 

And now he only realizes it thanks to Tanjiro . 

Fuck, Tanjiro . 

Giyu took for granted that things would go on as they had been . That some days he would wake up again in Tanjiro's body. A part of him even hoped that this would be the case. He hoped to see Tanjiro's face again instead of his own.

He really wished to. He wished to see Tanjiro again and with his newfound feelings it was inevitable. 

They kept him in a perpetual state of anticipation every time he closed his eyes into sleep the days following the disastrous date with Sabito. Dizzying anticipation. The butterflies in his stomach at the mere thought of talking to him again through the notes on his phones. The nervousness of feeling the tickle of the marker's tip on his skin to answer him before going to bed. 

But it never happened again .

He never woke up in the other's body again. He never visited that village again. He never wrote on his skin again. 

He never saw Tanjiro again.

As soon and unexpectedly as they had begun, the swaps ceased. Without warning or explanation.

It was strange. It was frustrating. He didn't quite get it. 

His life had taken an indescribable turn overnight, and it was over just like that?

That was it? 

Really?

He tried to look back. To find some reason why the swaps had stopped so suddenly. Satisfy the doubt of what the hell had happened to make it all end like that. He tried even if at first he could never find an explanation as to why they started in the first place. 

Perhaps the Tomioka of the past would have been so relieved that it was finally over. No more stress or uncertainty about not being able to know what Tanjiro would come up with at the next switch or the terrible feeling of not being in control. He would have left it there to forget about it and would not have sought contact with him at all. 

But not the Tomioka of the present.  

The Tomioka of the present waited a week until deciding whether or not to send a text message. Whether or not to look for Tanjiro the way they should have in the first place. Tanjiro's number was still in his contacts. It reminded him that he was a real person . That Tanjiro existed somewhere in Japan.

The days continued to pass. Autumn was getting closer and closer, so he had to dust off his warmest clothes to get out of the house. There were times when even his body would go into automatic mode and open the fridge hoping to find a plate of home-cooked food for him, but instead he found nothing .

And try as he might, the messages were never sent . Giyu persisted , perhaps to the point that to anyone else it would be annoying, but nothing was working . 

That's when he tried his luck and tried calling . Swallowing his nervousness and praying that it would work, but Tomioka got the same answer as that day. 

The number you have called is not available or has been turned off.

Again. 

The number you have called is not available or has been turned off.

And again.

The number you have called is not available or has been turned off.

And again. 

Giyu had to go on with his life knowing that there was no way to communicate with Tanjiro and, day after day, he inevitably returned to the monotonous routine of before. 

Then that sense of normality began to feel desperate . Things were back to the way they were, but it didn't feel the same, and that hit him like a wave.  

No more homemade lunches. No more silly arguments. No more endearing scoldings. No more excitement. No more anticipation. No more lazy insults written on his cheek. No more confused looks from the others. 

No more Tanjiro .  

It was almost as if none of that had happened in the first place.

Going to college. Catching the crowded train. Walking with Tengen and Sabito through the streets of Tokyo after class. Returning home the same way across the bridge. Those things so natural to his everyday life felt empty with Tanjiro's unexpected absence like a mosquito buzzing in his ear at all hours. 

Because Tanjiro Kamado had burst into his life so... abruptly . So intrusive. So attentive. Walking in without taking off his shoes and leaving his footprints everywhere that, now that they were gone, it felt bad. Wrong . 

It was overwhelming. Almost like a habit that once it starts it's impossible to go back to being the same without it. 

He missed Tanjiro . Very much. So much that Giyu found himself dissociating quite a bit. Staring into nothingness without observing anything in particular. Searching in the distance for that something until he was locked in his own bubble. 

The people around him noticed it. His friends. His teachers. Tomioka knew he'd had enough when he was scolded for staring at the window instead of paying attention to one of his college lectures, and he didn't know what to reply when they approached him afterwards to ask what was going on. 

He tried to pretend he didn't care . He tried to ignore it . To put it out of his mind and not think about it. About the fact that they couldn't talk and that it wasn't squeezing his chest like it did. 

That the strong, suffocating longing he felt when he thought of Tanjiro was not any more familiar to him than it should be. That his feelings for him didn't beg him to do something . 

It was crazy, that sense of deja vu so striking and at the same time alarming. 

So much so that he found a job as a waiter in an Italian restaurant downtown; something to keep his mind occupied and not have to depend on the allowance his sister gave him every month. 

Thus, another week passed. 

Giyu visited his sister during that time and received the immense news that he was going to be an uncle and that was something that distracted him for a moment from his problems. 

But it was to be expected that Tsutako would notice as well. As insightful and attentive as ever. 

After the bubbly joy at the revelation and congratulations on her pregnancy accompanied by a lasting hug, they drank tea for a while and then she cornered him with a worried look and a simple question of "Giyu, is there something bothering you?".

It caught him off guard and he almost choked on his drink. 

For a few seconds, Giyu didn't know what to answer her and looked away, avoiding her gaze at all costs. Causing a prolonged silence in which Tomioka organized his thoughts and schemed whether to tell her the truth or not.  

And Tsutako just waited, patiently, giving him the necessary time and space until he felt comfortable enough to talk to her. She only took small sips from the porcelain cup she held in her hands. 

Then Giyu sighed, defeated, and took a deep breath, as if building up his courage before he began to speak. He had never been good at lying to his sister, so he decided to start with the truth . 

Or at least, a half-truth . 

He didn't mention the swaps or the notes on his skin, but he told her about Tanjiro.  

He told her how they had met under such strange circumstances and everything he had felt with him that chaotic month that had passed. 

He told her about the date with Sabito and how badly it had ended. And how Giyu had realized that in reality he had feelings for Tanjiro . 

Inevitably, he had smiled gracefully at the memories, feeling his chest warm and the butterflies return as he imagined Tanjiro's beautiful smile and wished internally that he had actually met him in Tokyo and not by chance. 

But the pressure and bitterness returned, washing over everything like an ocean on a cliff, when he got to the part where for some reason he didn't understand, he hadn't been able to communicate with him and how he had simply vanished from his life, leaving only the heavy, thick shadow of his presence in his being. With the echoes being too hard to bear. 

When he finished telling it all, they both fell silent. Tsutako had blinked a couple of times and then hummed, fixing her gaze on the now empty teacup on the table in front of her, as if thinking about what to answer before opening her mouth. 

But then, she smiled at him . So candid and almost with a teasing touch before taking one of his hands on the table and giving it a squeeze. 

And just like that time, when Tomioka was a teenager who didn't understand his own feelings, she spoke . 

"What I think is that you don't like that boy." 

The thing about falling in love?

"Giyu, you're in love with him."

Doing it sincerely and romantically?

It's that it's not always obvious until you're so far down that there's no way to get back up. Until you're head over heels in love and gravity is a thing of the past. 

Until you've fallen so far that you're floating in bliss.

Looking back at Sabito, Giyu realized that he had never fallen for him. He never had the chance to do so, so it was to be expected that he didn't realize it when he fell for Tanjiro. 

But contrary to what might be expected, that revelation was not shocking, much less abrupt. It was natural. As if a blindfold had been gently removed from his eyes, allowing him to see things clearly. 

It helped him to finally be able to put a name to everything that was swirling around inside him all that time. 

Love. Tomioka was in love.

Giyu returned to his apartment with that new reality feeling lighter and in renewed spirits and, for the first time in a long time, he decided to cook for himself. 

Soon the place was filled with the overwhelming smell of daikon with salmon. Surprisingly upon tasting it, it didn't taste as bad as he expected, but it was nothing compared to what Tanjiro had prepared for him all those times in the past. 

With every bite of the meal, his mind inevitably traveled back to Tanjiro. Remembering. Visualizing the village where he lived. Those landscapes that had been burned into his eyes. The houses. The lake. The Tori. The forest. Everything.  

Letting himself be enveloped by the familiarity of the place and the tranquility that the simple fact of stopping to admire it for a few seconds provoked in him.  

It was then that an idea crossed his mind. Giyu looked at his room in the darkness of the hallway. Where he knew all the materials and tools he used to draw landscapes and buildings at college would be. Without further ado he stood up swallowing the last mouthful. 

He only managed to put the dishes in the sink, not bothering to wash them or clean up the mess he had left after cooking, and walked quickly to the room. 

Giyu drew relentlessly from then on. Whenever he returned home from college or work or had free time, he would pick up his pencil and start drawing everything he could remember about the town Tanjiro lived in.

It became almost a hyper-fixation that distracted him even for a moment from Tanjiro, without necessarily having to get rid of him. 

The bridge he walked along with Zenitsu and Inosuke to go to school. The benches by the vending machines where they used to buy cans of coffee.  Tanjiro's room. The closed shoji doors of it. The Tori on the stairs of the Kamado family temple. 

The train tracks where he stayed so he could write reports on Tanjiro's phone. The huge crater where the body of the Kamado Shrine’s god stood with its streams and the old tree. The bottle with the sake he had left inside. 

All of it. 

Until finally the somewhat loose strokes became the silhouette of the huge lake in the middle of the village and the houses and buildings in it. Scratches and scribbles. Smudges of the graphite that scattered at the touch of his own hand on the lines of the drawing. 

At some point he ended up renting a couple of books from the nearest library. Most of them were related to the mountains of Gifu province where he marked the pages he used as reference for the drawing, but when none of them convinced him he decided to look for pictures on his phone. 

More tracings. More scratches. Thick. Thin. Long. Short. Perspectives. Highlights. Shadows. Grunts of frustration as he mistakenly crumpled the sheet when he tried to erase the buildings that didn't look the way he wanted and had to smooth it out using only his hand to leave it as close as possible to the way it was before. 

That night marked another week since the swaps with Tanjiro had stopped, and Giyu had finally finished the drawing he had been working on so obsessively for the last few days. 

The accumulated exhaustion of all those sleepless, emotional nights finally kicked in and Giyu ended up asleep on his desk. With the empty water bottle in the trash, the warmth of the lamp on his face and the cooing of the fan on the floor beside him.  

It is early in the morning that weekend and the sun is shining through the window of his room taking away a bit of the cool atmosphere that is present. Giyu has removed each of the sheets of paper from the wall along with the tape that held them together making sure not to rip off the paint. 

Giyu is standing and carefully tucks the drawings into his backpack. He makes sure they don't get bent or damaged before taking one last look inside and checking that he has everything he needs before closing it. His wallet. Phone charger. A couple of pens and the black marker. Okay, all good. 

His weight drops onto the bed as he sits up. Tomioka crosses his arms back and pulls his hair back into that usual low ponytail; his back hunches almost immediately as he finishes and he lets out a long sigh that opens his nostrils wider than usual. 

He takes a couple of seconds like that, now contemplating his hands before finally getting up and putting on the coat hanging on his wall ready to leave his apartment. 

The distance to the station seems shorter for some reason, and before he really realizes it Giyu is already walking through the doors of the place. 

Despite the hour, it's crowded with people. Some shuffle along and others walk hurriedly through the oncoming foot traffic on the main thoroughfare, but it's not hard to get out of the way and move through the crowd.

There is a smell of food in the air that caresses his nose and reminds him that he hasn't had breakfast yet thanks to the knot in his stomach; his hands sweat inside his coat pockets, and maybe it all has to do with the nervousness that has settled in him since he decided to do this, but anyway he continues on his way to the platform where his train will be trying to suppress any grimace on his face.  

Then Giyu manages to recognize two heads in the distance that make him stop in his tracks and furrow his eyebrows with confusion creeping into him. Standing with carefree air in front of one of the station's advertising pillars are Sabito and Tengen. Like him, they are dressed in sporty and somewhat warm clothing due to the season; Sabito even has his hair in a low ponytail and a cap. They also carry backpacks and a bag with them and seem to have every intention of, like him, hopping on the train and traveling.

"What the...?" Giyu stumbles as he speaks out of the surprise and disbelief of the moment, and Tengen merely smiles broadly and almost haughtily in his direction. "What are you doing here?"

“Tengen told me, so here I am” Sabito clarifies simply, leaning back in the train seat, and Giyu grumbles under his breath, because, of course, Tengen couldn't keep his mouth shut. 

The landscape soon ceases to be filled with buildings and artificial lights. The sky has white clouds dotted all over it and the mountains of the province, though still green, begin to have that nostalgic autumn aura in the distance. The train has that clean, air-conditioned smell despite the number of passengers on board. 

The three of them are seated together on one side of the train. Tengen sits in the middle, Sabito by the window and Giyu in the aisle.

“Tengen, i asked you to cover for me at work and with my sister” Giyu scolds Tengen in a low voice, it sounds more like a complaint because of the urgency in his look and voice and Tengen doesn't take it too seriously when Giyu almost covers his face with his hand completely.

Tengen has had his attention on his phone the whole time and is more relaxed compared to him when he answers with a simplicity that Tomioka at that moment finds a bit alarming. 

Because he was supposed to do it alone, he had planned it that way so he wouldn't have any complications that weekend he would be out of town, but of course, he never considered that chaotic and unpredictable constant that his friends turn out to be.

“Sanemi will cover your shift.”

Uzui picks up his phone and Giyu has to back up a bit when it is in front of his face. The screen shows the messages exchanged between Sanemi and Tengen, with a couple of insults he knows are not serious and obscene emojis, but it's the last ones he has to read and they make him swallow saliva. 

Dickhead(Sanemi):

Fuck-Fine! 

I'll do it! 

But tell the bastard he owes me dinner!

A frustrated pinch forms between his eyebrows and Tomioka knows there's no point in resisting or arguing further at this point. He wonders if he'll have to cook a plate of ohagi for Sanemi for his trouble and his indirect involvement in this mess. Resignation floods him and he only manages to grit his teeth and reply. “This isn't funny”

"We're just worried about you," Tengen replies, putting his phone away. He watches out of the corner of his eye as Giyu makes a withering, questioning grimace that makes him roll his eyes. “You can't go alone. What if it's a con act?” 

"A con act?" Giyu repeats, taking in the words in his mouth.

"You are meeting an online friend, right?" asks Sabito joining the conversation, pointing in their direction with a chocolate pocky in one of his hands and with the other offering Tengen the box that holds the rest. 

Right. They don't know all the fantasy bullshit about the body swap or the notes with Tanjiro. They only know the lie that sounds real and is even boring and cliché . 

Looking back on it, Giyu could have come up with a better story to make excuses with Tengen that wouldn't make him look like just another desperate guy on the internet, but it's too late for that now.

"Well no," Tomioka stammers again with the intention of denying it, but realizes he doesn't know what to say that won't make him look crazy in front of his friends. He only manages to look away from Sabito's insistent eyes "not exactly" he finally says. 

Tengen has taken one of the chocolate pockys out of the box and pops it in his mouth, a sly smile lifting the corners of his lips as he speaks. "He is using a dating site. " 

"No!" Giyu tries to defend himself and ends up raising his voice more than necessary.

The people in the surrounding seats turn to look in his direction awkwardly, with a grimace of annoyance that lasts no more than a second because of the break in the silent atmosphere before they go back to their own thing. 

Sabito and Tengen smile just enough to let Tomioka know they enjoy seeing him like this, and if he was already embarrassed about the dating site thing, he feels his cheekbones heat up even more at the scene they're making. 

"You've been acting weird lately. We’ll keep an eye on you" Tengen then says offering a Pocky to Giyu as well, remembering the whole month and a half that passed where he saw his friend with a really different attitude from how he was before. 

"I'm not a kid!". Giyu raises his voice again and his brow furrows even more, suddenly feeling like a little kid that his sister had to take care of again.  

This time, neither Sabito nor Tengen contain the soft laughter that wants to come out. 

Giyu has no choice but to resign himself to the reality that he is now stuck with these two on his journey. 

The switching stopped.

Farm fields and farms are images left behind with the passing of the train. Small villages or groups of houses. Mills, rivers and bridges that make up that rural and almost cozy atmosphere that the countryside has. 

My calls and texts didn't go through... 

Soon the three of them have to switch trains, and at the station Giyu has to insist on hurrying, with a persistent trot a few steps ahead of them because the train might leave without them. 

In fact, they are the last to board the train because of Sabito and Tengen's slowness and the fact that they stopped to buy food, and Tomioka knows that the growing tension that has begun to throb in his head is not a good sign. 

So I decided to go see Tanjiro in person. 

Giyu has to take a deep breath and internally count to 10 to pull himself together, because the trip hasn't even fully started, and he can't let his emotions go back to being as flashy as they have been in the past few weeks. He has to remind himself that he's doing this for a good reason, and that no matter what happens, he can't waver. A part of him; that part that has been so loud lately, demands that he do what he can to keep this thing going. 

To get to Tanjiro.  

I wanted to meet him.  

To see Tanjiro as Tanjiro and not as a fuzzy memory in his head. To hear his voice. His laugh. To feel his hair. To fiddle with those pesky earrings. Seeing his cheeks puffed out in a tender pout. Seeing those eyes...

The reason for this trip. That strange feeling he decided to embrace with strength and longing after that visit to his sister. Tsutako had helped him again to put his feelings in order. To recognize the unnoticed fall he had had for Tanjiro. To realize that he was so fucking in love with Tanjiro . 

"Giyu, if you really love this boy, I think it will be worth the fight to find him again, don't you think?".  

But he would never tell her that she had given him the idea to propose such a risky plan like that. Tomioka didn't tell his sister that he would go out to look for Tanjiro, because first of all, it was crazy, and second of all, he knows that she would worry more than she should, and he doesn't want to cause her more stress considering that she is going through the first trimester of her pregnancy and something like that couldn't be any good, so he can only pray that she won't think of looking for him between today and tomorrow. 

Because Giyu knows that leaving the city, just like that is something rash, and he doubted whether it was a good idea for a long time. He pondered, really pondered with his reasoning, telling him that he was crazy, but his love and wanting to see Tanjiro were stronger and brought him to this point. 

But... 

The only problem is that he doesn't know where the hell to start looking. 

"What? You don't know where?"  The seats on this train are different from the previous one. They're facing each other in rows of two seats on either side. Tengen is next to Giyu and the only one facing them is Sabito. He looks incredulous, left with the chopsticks and the Katsudon they've started eating halfway to his mouth when he hears him. "The town's scenery is your only clue?"

"Yes..." He replies, averting his gaze.

Tomioka doesn't blame him, he's even a little embarrassed to have to admit that he left home with nothing but drawings and a memory. He doesn't even remember the name of the town he was arriving at after switching, but he knows it's real. That, somewhere, in the middle of the mountains, there is a village where Tanjiro Kamado lives and breathes. 

The second train ride lasts about an hour, during which time they take the opportunity to finish their Katsudon from the convenience store at the previous train station. 

The train drops them off in a small town. It's like any other you'd expect to find in the countryside, with traditional houses, tall trees and old-fashioned electric towers, but for Giyu it's not like the town he's looking for, it's not even close, nor is there that cozy feeling that enveloped him every time he took a deep breath being there.   

But it's a start. 

"And you can't contact him? What's this all about?'' They are walking on the elevated platform above the train tracks, which is more like a tunnel connecting the two platforms, when Sabito's voice rises in another question. 

Giyu is a couple of steps ahead again, so they can't see how he frowns again and purses his lips; because Giyu knows that he and Tanjiro should be able to communicate somehow and he's tried so many times that he's even had enough of that annoying robotic voice that pops up automatically every time the call doesn't come in, but it's never worked, so he can't answer either. 

"Seriously. What a lousy tour planner" Tengen grumbles with his hands in his pockets and a grimace on his lips at the lack of response. 

Tomioka turns a little over his shoulder at hearing him, just enough so he can see Uzui and keep walking forward, and grunts with a hint of annoyance, because if he's honest even he doesn't know for sure where they are.

"I did not plan a Tour!"

"Oh well, we'll help you look for him." Sabito sighs at how little information they have and settles the weight of his backpack on his shoulders. 

"Look!"

"It's very flashy!" 

Giyu is already regretting his life choices. 

Quite the opposite of what he had been told literally 10 minutes ago , Sabito and Tengen were distracted as soon as they reached the lower part of the station. Next to the benches and vending machines was a huge jackboot that Giyu guessed was the station's mascot or perhaps the town's mascot. It looked like a rather childish bull with a blue hat and red vest. 

At first glance it was cute, and his two friends didn't hesitate to go over to see it. Uzui has been taking selfies, posing in his Tengen way, while Sabito takes pictures of the bottarga's belly phrase, which he doesn't mind too much. 

Tomioka, meanwhile, has been staring straight ahead for quite some time. More specifically at the framed map resting on one of the walls at the other end. It has a white light and shows the town and everything in it. Giyu examines it several times trying to make sense of it, even with the voices of his friends in the background. 

"It moved!"

He takes a deep breath, still hearing the "click" of Sabito's phone camera; he feels his eyelid twitch with discomfort as he finally looks at them.     

"So annoying…"

The place was nice, he had to admit. Outside, on the other side of the street, there was a sort of square with grass, small trees, a clock marking noon and a few birds fluttering in the sky. 

Giyu started asking around outside the station. Tengen and Sabito stayed a few steps behind while he had approached a cab driver who was parked a few meters from the main entrance. He had handed him the detailed drawing of the town asking him if he recognized it.

The man had adjusted his hat and taken it. He seemed willing to help him by the attentive way he had examined the drawing behind his glasses, but Tomioka didn't have much luck and only saw him shake his head and then apologize and hand it back saying no, but that he could ask at the nearby shrine since that's the place most people go to. 

When they arrived they found a large house surrounded by trees and a small shrine at the foot of some stone steps leading up to a Tori. Almost as if it was a joke, the place was empty except for two middle-aged women praying. 

Tomioka waited until it was opportune to approach to show them the drawing and ask them the same question. 

Meanwhile, Tengen and Sabito were going upstairs to take a look. 

He had no luck there either.  

The three of them set off along the streets between the fields and the greenhouses that could be seen in the distance. They had stopped at a store a while ago and Giyu was the only one who had left without an ice pop in his hand. He was just holding his phone at chest height, gliding over a map of the area and following the main white road that appeared on the screen. 

And a few steps behind came his friends, looking relaxed and enjoying their orange ice pops. 

After walking for a while, they agreed to sit down to rest for a few minutes on an old wooden bench next to a vegetable crop and the smell of pesticide. Tengen had brought a card game to pass the time and Sabito did not hesitate to accept a game that almost ended in disaster. 

And Giyu was talking to a couple of farmers across the street, who had very kindly stopped their truck and got out to see if they were okay. He had taken the opportunity to ask about the town in the sketch, but, again, he had had no luck.

After resuming their walk they reached the main part of town, where more houses and businesses were crowded together. There they stopped at a bakery and pastry shop and Giyu approached who appeared to be the owner of the shop. A short woman with short wavy hair and a red apron full of flour and icing stains was standing behind the counter. 

The question was the same. The woman had grabbed the drawing with both hands after wiping them with a towel and scanned it for a few seconds. Giyu thought she would tell him the same thing when he saw her put it down; a refusal and an apology, but he hadn't expected her to call one of the store's customers and also ask her if she recognized the landscape on the paper. 

Next to her a man had approached and between the three of them they argued a bit about whether or not they recognized the landscape. Giyu didn't know how, but he ended up between them outside the bakery holding up his own drawing and discussing whether the mountains in the distance would be the same ones he had portrayed. 

And Tengen and Sabito... they had bought some biscuits covered in honey and waited sitting on the wooden bench by the door and the sale signs while they ate them. 

They decided to take a bus and leave the town when they were left without much choice of what to do there. 

Tomioka didn't know where to go either. The only clue they had to go on were somewhat loose comments about how the mountains in his drawing resembled those seen in the distance in the real landscape there, but not that he could take that as much help. 

Nor did he think the couple of foreign tourists a few seats ahead of them were headed in that same direction. 

Sitting in the last seats, with the town they were in slowly receding away, Giyu felt the occasional pressure in his head return; sweat made his t-shirt stick uncomfortably to his back and it didn't help that the sleeping weight of his friends on his shoulders on either side crushed him either. 

He had no choice but to sigh and accept that this whole thing wasn't working out. The day was coming to an end and he hadn't managed to get any concrete leads on the town. 

And Tomioka felt like he could give up at any moment. 

He didn't want to. That something that was pulling him to keep going and find Tanjiro was still so strong and so fucking present that it closed his chest and wouldn't let him breathe.  

Because he wanted to see him. Damn it, he really wanted to see him, but no matter how much he asked and searched, no one seemed to be able to be of any help to him. 

Tomioka felt the pressure in his chest increase with every denial he encountered and the accompanying frustration and despair only made him feel worse, squeezing his heart and making him feel that the distance that already existed between him and Tanjiro was even bigger. 

But there was something; something so small but so brief and present that screamed at him that he had to find Tanjiro. He had to. 

A hunch that made him feel like he was missing something. The last piece ; the one always left under the puzzle box. 

But he didn't know what it was.

And that idea was going around in his head for the rest of the trip.  

The clouds were already starting to want to paint themselves a delicate orange color, with the sun's rays slightly visible between them, when they got off the bus an hour later. 

Giyu couldn't sleep at all on that trip.

"So it's impossible after all." Tomioka says, dropping his weight completely onto the bus stop bench. His voice sounds as bad as he feels. Dragged out and slumped over.  

It's followed by a collective " What!" from Tengen and Sabito, who have simultaneously turned to see him, downing the bottles of water they were drinking, with almost comical synchronicity. 

"After all the trouble we went through?" asks Tengen, almost reluctantly and indignantly with a scowl, at the same time tossing his silver hair back. 

And Tomioka musters what little energy he still has left and lets the tension explode to answer him, but it ends up sounding more like an annoyed groan than anything else.  

"You haven't done anything!" 

"Three ramens!" The waitress's voice rises in the direction of the kitchen. It is youthful and somewhat giggly and echoes in the empty restaurant. 

The place has a concentrated aroma of spices and spiciness. It is decorated with traditional touches in the windows and paper lamps and yellow light. There is a wooden structure on the ceiling that connects to a pillar, separating the two environments of the restaurant: the first, elevated by a small step where there are several tatamis and kotatsus distributed, and the second where there are more common chairs and tables.  

There is also a fan in one of the corners that is currently turned off and next to it a coat rack that Giyu is somewhat amused that it is there in the first place, clashing with the aesthetics of the rest. 

The restaurant looks bigger than it is because of the number of unoccupied tables, but it still has that cozy touch that welcomes tourists or people passing through. It was to be expected that there would be no one else eating besides the three of them, considering the time they finally decided to find a place to have lunch/dinner. 

They were lucky that the building and the multiple signs giving a clear message of "There's food in here! " were not far from the bus station they stopped at and easy to see, because if Giyu is honest, he doesn't think he could have walked who-knows-how-many-more-miles until finding food. 

And when the bowl of ramen is already in front of him, with the aroma of the sauce and noodles, Giyu can't help but involuntarily lick his lips and feel his stomach rumbling for the fifth time in the last half hour. 

"Can we return to Tokyo today?" Giyu asks when his meal is half finished. 

 "We could be cutting it close, i'll check." Tengen replies after taking the last sip of water from his glass. He has finished eating a few minutes ago, so he can reach his phone in his pocket without any trouble. Tomioka thanks him in a soft voice. 

 " Are you alright with that? " Sabito's voice drags some uneasiness as he asks. 

Giyu feels his gaze even though he's more focused on swallowing and finishing his food. 

Then, finally, he sighs and, without looking at him again, his hands move to his open backpack until he picks up the drawing again and answers with a resignation much heavier than it seems, almost as if he were saying it only to himself : "I'm starting to feel like i'm wasting my time.”

And Tomioka looks at the drawing again with a new pang in his chest. The sheet has crumpled a bit and torn at one of the corners from the number of times it has been handled that day. So many that Giyu has the details almost burned into his retinas, deep in his eyes. 

It would be better to go back to Tokyo and rethink his strategy. It would be one thing to have photographs, but expecting to find the town with sketches like these was perhaps asking too much. At least, that's how it's starting to look.

It's a completely ordinary rural town, with the kind of houses you see everywhere scattered around a round lake. Though it seemed so solid to him when he finished it, now it looks like a nondescript, mediocre landscape.

If only he knew the name... .

His expression warps into something his friends can't read with the naked eye. The contracted pinch is present between his eyebrows, but there is also a small smile on his lips, expressing too much, and nothing at the same time. 

Neither of them hear the subtle footsteps approaching their table down the small aisle between them and the cash register, not until they're standing next to them and there's a gasp and a voice equal parts excited and surprised.  

"Hey, it's a picture of Itomori!". It's the same waitress from earlier who speaks, with a smile that lifts her cheeks and stains them slightly red. 

The three turn with renewed interest as they watch her lift Tengen's empty crystal glass to refill it with more water, almost as if she wants to do it in a hurry. 

The girl is attractive despite wearing the typical apron and boring restaurant uniform shoes. She is quite tall, with hair that Tomioka wondered if it was natural or if it would be dyed at first glance; a nice combination between pastel pink under a scarf tied at the nape of her neck, which degrades to green at the ends of the braids that hold it in place. Her eyes are large and, although they look a bit tired from all the work she's surely had today, they are clearly drawn to his drawing, sparkling with interest and excitement as she looks at it. 

"It's a very good drawing!" she exclaims again, almost melodious with excitement. Then she turns over her shoulder in the direction of the kitchen, her body almost trembling, and calls out again, "Iguro-san, come look at this!". 

She puts down the water jug she was holding on the table and holds out one of her hands with a silent request if she can take the drawing and Giyu hands it to her without further ado.  

From behind the thin wall that separated the kitchen from the dining room peeks out a guy a little shorter than them, looking youthful and perhaps about their age. 

His straight black hair is tied back in a low ponytail; half of his face is hidden behind a white facemask and the only thing visible to the naked eye are his eyes, with a strange heterochromia of yellow and turquoise. 

He also wears a headscarf and a drab uniform similar to that of the girl. He has a tired air about him, and Tomioka might even say he looks even annoyed when he makes eye contact with the three of them with his sharp gaze, but his expression softens when he is finally next to the girl and she holds out the sheet of paper for him to look at. 

He watches her for a second that seems like forever before muttering a sound of satisfaction and finally speaking from behind the mask. "Yeah, it's Itomori, Brings back memories." 

His voice is raspy and somewhat monotone, but there's something nostalgic about mentioning that name, and you can tell it rubs off on the girl next to him as she nods and smiles. 

Wait-

That name...

"My husband and I were born there!" she agrees laughingly turning to look at them, noticeably more moved than the guy next to her as she explains.

Then Tomioka feels something snap inside him. It is a subtle tug that from one moment to the next rushes into the light and clarity of his thoughts and memory. 

That name-!

"Itomori..." Giyu repeats, realization shining in his eyes from one moment to the next. "Yes-Itomori Town! That's it!" The smile that lifts his lips is nervous.

Excitement pumps so dramatically that a heartbeat escapes him. A renewed hope that breaks through and makes him start to tremble. He twitches before rationalizing doing anything else and stands up, almost pulling his chair back startling the others. 

"It's nearby isn't it?" it sounds more like a plea than a question in a desperate voice-cause at last there's a hint- shit finally. 

Please, please, please, please, please-

But contrary to what he expected, the answer he receives is almost a whisper from the girl. The excitement fades from her features and is replaced by a noticeable worried pinch. She even shrinks back a little, drawing the sheet of paper to her chest perhaps involuntarily. "What are you…" 

The air suddenly becomes tense, almost as if something wrong or out of place has been said. It is crushing, and Giyu swallows saliva and frowns, the emotion evaporating from within him to be replaced by dense confusion.   

"Itomori was..." The first sharp expression the guy had appeared with, also changes, becoming tense and puzzled, with lines around his eyes, etched on his forehead and at the corners of his lips. 

"Itomori?" Tengen repeats, not realizing he's interrupting Iguro, though it's as if he suddenly understands what he was going to say. 

Realization flashes in Sabito's gaze as well, and, like the others, Tomioka notices how his frown contracts, and his eyes grow much wider before he speaks turning his face towards Uzui "No way!"

"That's where-" 

"Isn't it where that comet-"

Giyu looks at the others uneasily, not understanding what's going on. There it is again, that shadow of something that has been trying to appear in his mind all this time and creeping around.  

The missing piece of the puzzle.

Birds fly over the sky. They are making noise, breaking through the atmosphere of the place, so lonely that it chills his blood from head to toe. Giyu doesn't know which ones they are. He doesn't care.  

The street he runs along is cracked and broken. The surrounding vegetation is dense and abundant. A row of barricades screams a clear 'DO NOT ENTER' and stretches as far as the eye can see, casting their long shadows in the evening light.

A sign hidden among the dirt and grass reads: 

'IN ACCORDANCE WITH THE BASIC LAW ON DISASTER COUNTERMEASURES, THIS AREA IS PROHIBITED. 

ACCESS PROHIBITED.

-RECONSTRUCTION AGENCY.

Giyu knows he is moving. He knows his feet are carrying him forward. To the other side of the fence and the yellow police tape, but he feels as if he is not.

His heart is pumping. It rumbles in his head, unease mingling with fear, an uncertainty coiling around his gut, through his chest, crushing his lungs the deeper he goes into what's left of the school. 

No-

His feet stop lightly scuffing the dirt on the ground, his hair fluttering in the wind, and all Giyu manages to do is stare, with a growing dread constricting his pupils, at the landscape opening up before his eyes.  

There is Itomori. That place he had been searching so hard for all day is visible beneath his feet. What was once a warm, peaceful and crowded town is now devastated by some unimaginable force and almost swallowed by the lake.

Of the streets, only the debris of the pavement remains, peeking over the water's edge; of the little train that used to stop from time to time, only the wagons, rusted iron and deteriorated structure and crushed tracks remain; and of all the buildings and houses that used to surround the lake, there is nothing but ruins.

Echoes of what they once were. 

No-

"Hey, is this really the place?" asks Sabito cautiously. He's standing behind Tomioka. He's been following him all this time from a considerable distance, almost as if giving him his space to take in what's in front of him. 

The cap is still on his head, and the peach hair in his ponytail beneath it moves more lightly than Giyu's. Almost like a representation of how they are feeling at those moments. 

"No way! Giyu must remember wrong." Tengen replies without waiting for him to respond, sounding desperately optimistic. He has taken the longest to catch up with them and stops next to Sabito, turning his head in his direction as he speaks.  

"No" Tomioka interrupts firmly. His voice is strained, an attempt to not let the rumbling emotions inside him escape. "I'm sure this is it." 

Tomioka looks away from the destroyed landscape of Itomori and turns sharply to look around. Behind is the school building, black and smudged, with some of its windows broken. It is completely abandoned, but Tomioka remembers it differently, full of people and him accompanied by friends who are close, but at the same time complete strangers. 

It is so vividly coiled in his memory that he feels despair make him raise his voice with every word that comes out from between his lips to convince himself of that. "This schoolyard, the mountains-I remember this high school exactly!"

Tomioka notices that Tengen has a dry smile plastered on his lips and an incredulous pinch of a frown on his brow when he finally looks at them. Uzui brings his hand to the back of his neck under the hood of the sweatshirt he's wearing in a nervous gesture. 

"That can't be true," he then says. Tengen licks his lips, perhaps searching for the right words with which to continue; he takes a step towards Giyu without realizing it. "Surely you remember the disaster that took hundreds of lives three years ago!" 

Behind them, near the metal fence, stand Mitsuri and Iguro. They no longer wear the aprons and headscarves on their heads; just casual clothes and jackets for the cold autumn wind. They stand side by side, just observing the scene laid out in front of them. 

Mitsuri has a worried grimace on her face, but Iguro has been holding her hand all this time since they left the restaurant and brought them here. He circles his thumb over her skin to make her understand that he is there with her. A gesture of mutual support, she gives their intertwined fingers a squeeze and envelops them in the sincere love they have for each other. 

"Yes, you- we saw that comet together when you were still living with your parents, remember?" Sabito speaks to him as well. He carries a desperate and insistent touch that is reflected on his face when he does so. 

Tomioka turns fully towards them after hearing him and stands still. 

"Disaster?" Giyu savors the words in his mouth, takes them in, slow and methodical, searching for the memory he's referring to, afraid of coming to shoo it away if he does it too quickly. 

And he finds it.

No-

That comet, three years ago. 

When they and Tsutako had gone up to the roof of the building.  He remembers that he didn't really feel like going out to feel the cold autumn air getting into his bones just to see a comet that time, but he had done it for them.

That comet, three years ago. 

When, one night,lines and brushstrokes of the most beautiful shades of purple and blue sky were painted in the sky. The shimmering trail, a long hair of striking colors crossed the night sky. As countless shooting stars fell across the western sky. 

That comet, three years ago. 

"Disaster three years ago?" Giyu murmurs. He wants to let his gaze linger on them, but he crosses them instead; then crosses the high school behind to dissipate into the distance.

No-

Giyu can't accept it. He doesn't allow himself to do it.

Tanjiro can't-he can't be dead!

The horror at that mere thought mixes with unease and dread in his chest, squeezing tightly. Pulling the air out of his lungs. Making his heart stutter in his chest. 

Time seems to stand still. It feels slow. He feels the air pressing against his skin. Crushing. Squeezing. Thick and suffocating.

Gone is the sound of the wind. Gone are the birds making noise in the sky, there is only him and the drumming of his heart. 

No-

No-

No-Nonono!

Tanjiro can't!

He can't be dead!

But the way Tengen and Sabito look at him, that disbelief and concern, tell him otherwise.

Tomioka lets out a shaky sigh. "That can’t be"

His mind churns, scheming in memories and how they scream at him that it must be a lie. All the sensations of living his life; all the moments when he would stop to breathe; his love for Tanjiro. That shadow of something that has been trying to creep into his mind all this time and creeping around.

He talked to Tanjiro for weeks; swapped bodies with him for a month; they left each other notes-.

The notes-

Giyu blinks repeatedly, the sudden spark of hope crossing his face. He smiles, nervous and agitated, even with the tense lines around his eyes, before speaking "That can’t be...I still have the memos that he left behind" 

Giyu pulls his phone out of his pocket with fumbling hands and, spurred on by the absurd fear that the battery will run out forever if he takes too long, he flips through it in a panic, his fingers searching for Tanjiro's diary entries. Green amidst all the blue of the others. They are really there .

But something is wrong . 

Giyu rubs his eyes hard. His free hand sinking into his eyelids as if seeking to remove any debris or dust particles that are obstructing his sight or making him look wrong. Because for a moment, the letters seem to writhe. 

In front of his incredulous gaze, the letters change. 

First one letter, then another.

The words Tanjiro wrote begin to dissolve into meaningless symbols. No order. Before long, the text flickers like the flame of a lit candle in the middle of the night, then disappears. 

One by one, its entries disappear completely. From the first one a month ago, to the last one before the date with Sabito. It's as if something or someone invisible is pressing DELETE and no matter how much Tomioka tries to avoid it, he can't do anything. 

As Giyu watches, all his sentences disappear.

And it's as if they were never there in the first place. 

"They're disappearing..." he says to nothingness with one last choked breath.

The birds are still making noise in the sunset sky. Giyu doesn't know which ones they are. 

He doesn't care.  

Chapter Text

« Comet Tiamat, »  

Tengen begins, his tone and posture denoting an eerie seriousness that is rarely apparent in him. He is no longer wearing his hoodie and his silver hair falls free down his back and shoulders.

« With an orbital period of 1200 years, made a close approach to Earth three years ago in October. »

Giyu feels... off . 

His fingers move mechanically, turning the pages one by one. The tearing of the pages is much louder than it should be in his ears. The smell of the dust permeating them is more intense in his nose. 

One after another. 

Paragraphs and sentences.  

Although they haven't been there too long, Tomioka is surrounded by books, articles, magazines and newspapers related to what was the Itomori disaster. The wooden table in the library is full of them, leaving no room even for their backpacks resting forgotten on the floor. 

They had not stayed too long in... what was left of Itomori. Giyu doesn't know if he would have endured staying longer anyway. Mitsuri and Iguro - though the latter very reluctantly - had taken them back to the nearest town. 

The journey was immersed in silence. A tense and uncomfortable one. Each one locked inside their own head. In their own world. Tomioka wonders if the others were thinking about something specific at that moment or if, like him, they simply had their gaze lost in the already darkened landscape of the countryside, their minds blank and their hearts in their mouths.

« Nobody predicted that its nucleus would split at its perigee. »  

Giyu was the one who asked Mitsuri, who was riding in the passenger seat, to drop them off at the town library; a colorful building with huge windows reflecting the still bright lights inside. No one questioned or commented. Perhaps in an unspoken agreement of sympathy or pity. Who knows . 

When Tomioka arrived he was quick to ask the library clerk, a slender middle-aged woman with round glasses, where everything related to Itomori was located. 

Which brings him here.

Town Annihilated.

Over 500 dead or missing. 

Newspaper headlines are read loud and clear. The images that accompanied the text; the dates. Everything is almost scandalous from the newspaper. 

Somehow, Giyu already knew all this. After all, it was everywhere in the news three years ago. He had seen it, he had seen the Tiamat comet when he was still in high school.

Information that had remained hidden deep in his memory, and that only now, listening to Tengen and having it in front of him, had managed to pierce the mantle of his subconscious. Drawn by all the emotions that invade him the more he reads and investigates.

Itomori, the town that vanished.

His hands open a book full of photographs of what Itomori was like before the disaster and Giyu swallows saliva.  Page after page. Picture after picture. He recognizes each one. Memories that are now so vivid that he could describe in detail every landscape of the town. 

Because Tomioka lived in Itomori as Tanjiro, several times until last month. But the dates printed in black letters stare back at him from the pages, loud and real from three years ago .  

It's strange. It doesn't make sense. 

If so, it would mean that the place where Tanjiro lived and the place he saw was not Itomori; that the comet disaster and the swaps have nothing to do with each other. It would be normal to think so. Or at least, that's what Giyu wants to think.

« A fragment of the comet became a meteor that struck Japan. »

But Tomioka can't shake the suffocating, irremediable feeling of confusion as he feels again that something in the back of his mind whispers a clear: "This is where you were."

Tome after tome. Photographs of days spent in Itomori show unmistakably the places Tomioka had been. 

The Kamado Temple of which his grandfather was head. That uselessly large parking lot that looks more like a vacant lot, the two bars next to each other, the supermarkets that closes early, the small train crossing on the road to the mountain and, of course, the Itomori High School.

At this point Giyu recognizes everything clearly. Seeing with his own eyes the lush vegetation, those ruined streets and the buildings engulfed by the lake has sharpened his memories, however painful they may have been.

During all this time he found it hard to breathe. As if the photographs were silently sucking the air and any sense of reality from his memories. His chest strangles, his heartbeat struggles and pumps irregularly. His heart refuses to calm down.  

When they finish the books, the three of them move to the computers on the tables on one side of the library. They are almost hidden behind a row of columns, despite all the lights shining on them and the line of windows against which they are leaning. 

His fingers move quickly over the keyboard. A tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, sounds as he types into the search bar the words that have been plaguing him for the past hour.

Itomori, comet, damage.

"It was the day of the autumn festival." Giyu hears as Sabito adds behind him. His back and weight rest on the pillar closest to them; his hands remain hidden in the pockets of his hoodie, his frown serious and his gaze fixed on the jet hair at the nape of Tomioka's neck.

"The point of impact was here." Tengen says from the chair next to him. In front of him, on the free space left on the table is one of the books about the disaster. It is open on one of the pages showing a map of the geography of the place and marked in three circles of different sizes is marked the entire shock wave that the comet had. "At 8:42 pm it struck where people were gathered for the festival."

Giyu looks at the sheet and the place Uzui points to. More text, more dates, and in the center of the impact area, in the smallest red circle, he makes out the small symbol of a tori and the clear name "Kamado Temple." His heart skips a beat again. 

There is a moment later when both Sabito and Tengen separate and walk away from Giyu. Each involved in their own investigation of the disaster. About ten more minutes pass in which Tomioka can hear the keyboard of the computer closest to his where Tengen is staring. The light from the monitor glints on the skin of his cheeks and the silver of his hair. 

Sabito, meanwhile, is lost among the aisles and shelves of the library. His eyes sweep the spine of each of the books displayed among the dust and white lights. 

Tomioka then feels him approaching from behind and turns around before he can call out his name. In his hands is a thick hardcover book. Lined with a leather cover and stamped the title with foil in a thick font.

List of the names of victims. 

The air becomes even thinner after reading it. Tomioka swallows saliva with difficulty.  He feels as if hot blood is oozing down the back of his neck, but when he brings one of his hands to wipe it away he discovers only transparent sweat.

"Over 500 people died, a third of the town's population." Tengen returns to his side and continues speaking to him. "And now nobody lives in Itomori anymore." 

The book is open in front of them. They hear the tearing of the pages as they turn one by one. The names and addresses of the victims are listed by districts, so Tomioka focuses on looking in one place. He flips through them with his finger. The pages keep turning. A seemingly endless amount of names that he doesn't concentrate on for more than two seconds before continuing. 

Finally, his finger stops on the names he recognizes.

Hashibira Inosuke 

 Agatsuma Zenitsu 

The mutter as he read their names came bitterly out of his mouth. The faces of those boys flashed through his mind. The fights they had with each other. How he came to think they were annoying at first, only to realize they were actually warm and loyal people. The heaviness of the memories of someone else's life bubbles up in his gut. 

Tomioka hears Tengen inhale next to him and feels him tilt his body in his direction to get a better look at the open page. His gaze also fixes on one of the names written there. 

"W-Wait, who ?" Uzui asks suddenly. The volume of his voice rises a few tones and he falters, finally changing the serious tone he had to one almost of urgency. 

"It's a name here." Giyu replies, stumbling in the same way as he does so quickly. Tengen seems unsure about leaving it there and remains silent, pursing his lips and frowning. Strange emotions are reflected in his gaze. 

Tomioka doesn't focus too much on him and his eyes return to the book; his finger once again hovers over the page with a mixture of determination and anxiety. Because if he found his friends, he must be close.  

And he finds them. Those names that prove it all .

Urokodaki Sakonji 

Kamado Nezuko

One under the other. 

His grandfather's name. 

His sister's. 

And-

" Kamado...Tanjiro... " It's almost a gasp because Giyu would swear his voice had stuck. 

Time slows down for a second. Tomioka blinks, slowly and methodically, trying to focus his eyes on his name printed there, lagging too far behind. His name. Written and legible and real . 

So fucking real.

" That's him ?" Sabito asks, still with an incredulous tremor in his voice, looking over his shoulder at the list. "It has to be some kind of mistake." Tomioka feels him lean in his direction looking for his gaze, some explanation in it perhaps, but feels helpless to be able to give it to him " I mean... this person died three years ago."

Tomioka opens his mouth and closes it again a couple of times, as if looking for what to say to refute his words. To deny them. 

He finds it hard to breathe. He even finds it hard to stay there, feeling the bomb of information fall on his shoulders even though he wants to resist. Even though everything inside him screams at him that he should resist.

Then Tomioka inhales desperately and continues in a whisper "Just two or three weeks ago he said to me that the comet would be visible." 

He raises his head again and manages to look away from the kanji of his name. He feels his hair tingling on his cheeks from the abruptness of the action, and finds his own reflection staring back at him from the glass. 

A face contracted by confusion. Receding pupils and expressive lines around the eyes. A frown and almost imperceptible beads of sweat on the temples.

"So...!"

Giyu shakily releases the air and after a heartbeat, which seems like eternity itself compressed into a second, there is nothing . 

His mind is blank, he only hears, from deep inside, in the distance, a hoarse voice that sounds all too familiar.

"Tanjiro... you're dreaming right now, aren't you?"

There have been only very few occasions when Giyu Tomioka has experienced it. Fear . An overwhelming, heavy, irremediable fear. Like the one he felt now. 

Because he realized, and the thing was, that this emptiness that suddenly settled in his mind was not normal. It couldn't mean anything good.  

Was it a memory?

Or even…

He blinks again.

"I...I… what did I... "he finds himself muttering. Almost as if he had forgotten what he was doing there in the first place. 

Because, even if it doesn't make sense at all.... was it all a dream ?

Giyu chokes in horror at that possibility.

Sabito's puff on the cigarette feels unduly gratifying . The taste of nicotine entering and sticking inside him is strange after so long, but it is relaxing nonetheless. He inhales deeply, letting the puff go deep into his lungs and leaves it there for two more seconds. Then he closes his eyes and sighs, letting the smoke escape through his nose instead of his mouth. 

The slight dizziness comes after the second puff. He is sitting on the couch in that small room with a smoking area, but for a second it feels like everything around him is moving. Vibrating as an effect of smoking. That sporadic vertigo that leads him to drop his shoulders and let himself be enveloped by how it makes him feel. 

He only opens his eyes again to shake out the cigarette and drop what's left in the small ashtray on the table to his left and then closes them again.  

Rinse and repeat.

There is the sound of a dinner party in the room next door.

Someone says something, there is a burst of laughter, and then the cheers echo like a torrent. It has been going on and on for a while. Sabito tries to sharpen his hearing, wondering what kind of group they are. But no matter how hard he listens, he can't make out a word. The only thing he knows, and it is clear, is that they speak Japanese.

From what the owner of the inn they are staying at told him when he was paying for the night, he knows that a somewhat large group is staying there, so they don't have any spare rooms. He said it's a teacher's  social union or something like that. 

They didn't mind having to share a room between the three of them, they were too tired to debate what to do having left the library late anyway. 

Sabito opens his eyes, feeling footsteps approaching him from the hallway. It's Tengen with one of his hands in his pocket; from the sneer he gives him, he thinks his face must look as sleepy as he feels. 

"Lively up there." Sabito comments before taking another puff on his cigarette. He follows Uzui with his gaze as he walks over to one of the many vending machines in front of him on the other side of the room. 

"Apparently it will be like that for a while" he replies in the same manner, inserting a couple of coins into the machine and mashing the buttons on the keypad. A few seconds later the thump of a can falling and hitting the compartment is heard. 

" How 's Giyu ?" Sabito asks, shaking the ashes again. 

"He's still reading articles on Itomori," Tengen turns and walks to the free seat on the couch next to him speaking with a surrendered tone of voice and almost sighing "newspapers and magazines at the time at random it seems" 

Sabito only gives him a small sound of understanding in response and takes another long puff of his cigarette. His face turns to look straight ahead. Some stray dot in front of him. 

Tengen is drinking from the coffee can when he speaks after a few seconds, glancing sideways at him slightly, "I haven't seen you smoke in a while."

He doesn't look back at him, just lets the smoke escape from his mouth this time and smiles, small and slightly surrendered; the cigarette is about halfway between his fingers. "Yeah...I quit a while ago but..."

Sabito can't help the twinge of guilt in the back of his neck. Smoking was a rather strong addiction he had from adolescence until his early college years, and would have escalated to something more serious had it not been for Makomo - a cute short girl he met on campus - who always scolded him every time she saw him with a cigarette or when she even caught even a whiff of the notorious odor that permeated his clothes and hands. Literally the first thing she said to him after they met was, "You shouldn't smoke so much."  

She was the one who helped him quit and made him promise not to do it again. To this day it was a successful year and a half in which he had not had a cigarette in his mouth. Sabito wonders what Makomo would do to him if she saw him right now and knew he broke his promise. But if he had to excuse himself, he would say that the day had simply been.. .too much . 

Too much on his mind . Too much inside his chest . Makomo would perhaps understand if she were in his shoes and had experienced the whole ordeal that was that day. 

What a load of shit. 

"What do you think about Giyu’s story?" Tengen's question rises between the two of them after a while. 

He takes another sip of his coffee and turns his face in his direction, waiting for the answer to the open question. Uzui watches as Sabito lets out another puff of smoke in a sigh and how he then licks his lips, eyes fixed on some point on the ground before speaking.   

"I liked him." he finally declares, listening as Tengen seems to choke on his coffee, confused for a second. That makes him smile with a bit of mockery "The way he was recently ." he clarifies to him. 

«I mean, I've known him most of my life. I dare say I even always knew he liked me, but I could never return it. I didn't see him that way....not till recently .»

It's easy for Tengen to see Sabito shy away from his gaze. His neck is static in a single position, as if he's doing everything he can not to turn around. It's not tense, rather he would say he's doing it to give himself courage as he continues to explain himself, his voice continuous and soft.

«He's always been a nice guy but even more so lately. Like he was trying so hard… It was nice.»

An affectionate smile stretches his lips, recalling the Tomioka of weeks ago. It's almost nostalgic, the memory of a laughing, more awake Giyu with others around him. So different from how he was before; so different from how he is now. 

He spoke to him in a way he never had before. Making his heart race little by little, questioning that platonic closeness they had maintained all these years. 

It had started with that simple "H-have a nice day!" 

It had caught him off guard; not the sentence itself, rather the way he'd said it. In how it had sounded so different, a combination of poorly suppressed exaltation at wishing him good luck and shyness after realizing what he had said to him. It had sounded so... fucking cute , Sabito couldn't help but blush and smile oddly before hurrying off to his classes. 

After that everything had only escalated, with some days getting the usual reserved Giyu Tomioka, and others where he acted differently. It was curious, attractive, and by the time Sabito realized it, he began to like him. 

He even considered, for a second, the possibility that Giyu might actually be his , and that he might be his in return.  

He was comfortable with his sexuality, but it was something completely new to start having those kinds of feelings for the one he considered only a best friend. 

That was why he never said anything to Giyu about having realized he had feelings for him when they were still in high school. Sabito knows Giyu, well enough to know that he is someone who is socially awkward and might come to feel guilty if he somehow felt that their friendship might be ruined by a confession. 

So he kept quiet, acting as usual . 

But he began to see Giyu with different eyes and so he asked him out on a date . Considering that Tomioka had never made the first move with this kind of thing, at least with him, he was genuinely surprised when one afternoon, while they were walking together after class, he had stopped him and asked him. And Sabito would have accepted naturally and even enthusiastically, had it not been for the fact that something seemed strange to him.

Giyu was facing him as he did so, looking him straight in the eye and speaking to him in a firm voice, but, for some reason, that confidence with which he presented himself, to his eyes seemed almost... pretended. Fake.    

As if he wasn't sure of what he was asking him, but did it anyway. 

And that made Sabito doubt.  

But he agreed to the date despite everything and the bad feeling that settled inside him. 

And when the time came, Sabito did not take long to confirm it and he felt his enthusiasm waning. The date didn't work out. It was weird and fucking awkward, as if out of nowhere the two of them were a million words apart, not finding a way to get closer.  

Sabito tried not to make it like that. He tried to act normal with Giyu, but there was something different about him that wouldn't let him and kept him unconsciously away. And it was at that photo exhibition that he was able to understand what it was.   

They say that the eyes are the windows to the soul; that they will tell you everything when you try to read someone, and in Giyu's eyes, in that deep blue gaze as dark as the ocean, Sabito saw a gigantic longing , so fucking overwhelming, that he felt like fainting in that second it took him to understand it. 

Tomioka didn't like him anymore.  

He'd be lying if he said it didn't hurt. That he didn't feel his heart tearing and falling to his stomach when he saw that this was not the Giyu he had shared so many moments with in the last few weeks.

This Giyu was not his ; he never wa s and never would be .

Sabito takes one last puff and finally finishes his cigarette. He lifts his face to the ceiling and lets the smoke escape in a long sigh before turning and disposing of the cigarette butt in the ashtray. He prefers to think that the bitterness in his mouth is due to the nicotine and not his own emotions.

He then continues in a quiet voice, agreeing with Uzui's lingering, uneasy look that this is all fucking crazy. "But what he is saying doesn't make sense to me" 

The noise in the room next door has died down at some point. Down the hallway next to the room they're in, a group of people clearly drunk from the awkward smiles plastered on their faces begin to peek out. They're not annoying, but they draw enough attention to make them both turn to look at them.

"But I'm sure he met someone, and that someone changed him." Sabito adds in the same way; and if Tengen manages to perceive something in his voice, he tells him nothing.   

More than strange, Sabito would call it an anomaly . The enormous mystery of a boy with whom Tomioka claims to have been communicating for over a month, but who everything seems to indicate is dead. Sabito was genuinely curious about the person who had influenced Giyu's life so much, and that was one of the main motivations for agreeing to accompany Tengen on the trip. 

Like Tomioka, at one point he was ready to call it a day and return to Tokyo, but things were rushing too fast and he had no choice but to stick with him even as the situation became increasingly bizarre. 

And now, after seeing him so focused on finding that person who changed him so much, Sabito can't help but think that this is his punishment . His karma for all those years in which he completely avoided all the feelings Giyu had for him. In which he was aware that they existed but did nothing about them, not even rejecting him so that he would stop hiding them. 

He realizes that perhaps, he would have liked to start seeing him with different eyes before, to experience himself in first person, what it is like to be truly loved by Giyu Tomioka. Because there would be no other explanation for the almost unhealthy effort he is putting into the search for this mysterious boy than love .

But even though those feelings won't leave him alone, Sabito is somehow happy to see how different Tomioka is now. To see a version of him that seemed far away but is undoubtedly positive and happened in front of him without even noticing it. He can't help but stretch his lips in a smile; a small and almost imperceptible one. 

"That much is for sure, I think..."

Empty .

Giyu clicks his tongue in annoyance. The 'NO ENTRY' notification glances back at him from his phone screen. No matter how many times he reopens the app, there is nothing. Not a single note. Not a trace remains. 

A loud noise is heard in the room and the next thing he knows, his head has slumped onto the desk he's at.  He must have hit it hard because a sharp pain comes next, but he doesn't feel able to do anything about it. He is dead tired .  

Tomioka is not sure how long he has been sitting in the same position, just reading and turning the pages in front of him. No matter how much he reads the reduced editions of old newspapers and magazines, he can't seem to get the text into his head anymore. The words have begun to blur before him and his eyes have begun to sting . 

His whole body is heavy. His chest, which has not stopped feeling tight all day, strangles his heart and continues with that feeling so loud and present that Giyu no longer knows what to do . What to think . 

Because everything he's managed to see and read only reinforces the fact that Itomori truly was destroyed by a comet three years ago and that it's impossible that he's been swapping bodies or even talking to anyone there. 

That reality is... painful. It feels wrong no matter how crazy it sounds. 

"It was all just a dream." he declares in an almost raspy voice that leaves a bad taste in his mouth. It reminds him of being a child and telling a lie and then feeling guilty that he did it because he knew it wasn't right. 

Still with his head down, his eyes open finding the wood of the desk just inches away from him and, after taking a breath so he can speak, he continues trying to put into words the heavy conclusion he has come to in the last few hours. 

"I recognized the scenery because I remembered the news from three years ago."

He... does he really want to believe that?

No. Of course not.  

That is, how to do that after everything had felt so real ? After, every sensation stayed in his body as if they'd been burned with fire. 

After he had fallen so deeply. 

But... 

"If not that then… a ghost? No… was I fantasizing?" 

Maybe Giyu was finally going crazy and it was all part of his delusion. Somehow that idea doesn't feel so far-fetched considering everything he had to live through, but it feels wrong anyway. 

But if he's honest, he doesn't think his mind is capable of imagining and literally creating a flesh and blood person, as lovely as Tan-   

Ta..

Giyu is startled and raises his head then. Something suddenly disappears , moving swiftly before he can finish thinking about it or even hold it and stop it from escaping, leaving only a heavy void in its place. It is alarming and makes his throat close; the caress of dread inside him. 

He has forgotten something. Something important.  

Something that triggers that unknown feeling so present he had all day; that makes him shiver and stop being aware of the sweaty feeling on his face and hands or the sound of crickets chirping through the window.  

His-

"His name…" saying it out loud, rationalizing it and making it real , only worsens the uneasy torrent inside his chest. Tomioka takes another heavy breath "What was it?"

How is it that he is forgetting something so important ?

Something that somehow gave him the certainty that this person actually exists and that motivated him and had him continuing on this ridiculous journey. 

Because for Giyu, if that boy wasn't real, then nothing else was.

Knock, Knock, Knock. 

But before Tomioka allows himself to sink into panic, a couple of knocks are heard on the door of the room calling his attention and making him turn his face to look at it. 

The figure of Sabito appears wearing one of the light robes of the inn. Then the atmosphere of the room, which only a few seconds ago seemed so heavily cold and isolated, suddenly softens and Giyu feels terribly relieved.

Sabito enters, giving a yawn which he covers with his hand and which makes him look tired. His hair looks damp and the towel around his neck tells him that he has just had a bath. 

"Tengen went to take a bath." Sabito comments a bit lazily closing the door behind him. 

"Sabito..." Giyu lets out a sigh not having realized he was holding it in and quickly gets up from the chair. He watches him approach until he bends over his backpack as he speaks: "I... I've been saying such strange things. Thank you for coming along today" 

Tomioka bows forward in a brief curtsy, his gaze fixed downward, and only notices his friend zipping up his backpack as if carefully stowing something away and then straightening up to approach him. The next thing he feels is a light smack on the back of his head that catches him off guard.

When he lifts his head he notices the bored expression on Sabito's face "Don't worry about it." he says to him, denying carelessly.

Then he drops into a chair, so that they are face to face at that little table by the window from which Giyu has not moved in all that time. When Tomioka joins him, he is hit by the scent of the inn's shampoo, like a rare perfume from a distant, foreign land. It is pleasant and makes him forget for a moment that heavy feeling of having dragged his friends into this. 

Sabito, putting his phone aside, picks up one of the books that Tomioka had brought from the library and that are now stacked there. He opens it halfway to a random page.

"Braided threads, how cool." Sabito mutters after looking at it for a few minutes "Apparently they were very traditional in Itomori. I wouldn't be able to wear earrings like that".

That catches Giyu's attention though he says it as a loose, disinterested comment, which makes him turn his head back to him. " Earrings? "

Sabito holds out the book for him to see what he's talking about. It's some volume of local Itomori materials; on the first page are photographs showing different examples of Kumihimo of various colors and another with a silhouette of a person in front of a muradai working the threads. They are surrounded by paragraphs of text explaining how their production was something quite traditional and their close relationship to the village temple.

"They look more like lucky charms than religious ornaments like the threads." Sabito adds. 

And on the other page is what he's referring to; some more text and a single photograph of a pair of worn earrings. Rectangular in shape, with an illustration of a deep crimson rising sun. Hanafuda earrings.  

And Giyu looks at them intently. 

And he stares.

And keeps staring. 

"How strange, I... I've seen these earrings before...". Giyu confesses in a weak voice after a heartbeat. 

The deepest part of his mind shudders again. His hands clench the book involuntarily as another deja vu occurs.

The strong tug returns when Giyu is absolutely certain that he somehow recognizes those earrings. He's seen them, and he's also sure it wasn't in one of the many books about Itomori he's read today. No, it was before that. A long, long time ago.

 But... where?

The oppressive feeling that he is forgetting something caresses his heart again.

Sabito watches Giyu's expression turn from confusion to a concentrated frown. The pinch between his eyebrows grows stronger and he fears it might even hurt.

"Why don't you go take a bath too?" Sabito suggests in a worried tone before Giyu sinks back into his own head. Besides, from the tired and weathered look on his face and him in general, he's sure he really needs a bath. 

Tomioka mumbles a reply, but doesn't seem to be really listening, as he doesn't move his head or do anything else. His blue gaze is still fixed on the earrings in the book; so focused on them, going over the surface of the sheet where they are printed with his fingers again and again, as if by doing so he might come to find something else. 

To remember something else. 

He feels as if he would lose something forever if he looked away for even a second. 

He rummages desperately through his memories, absolutely certain that the something that has been haunting him is there, somewhere in his subconscious. 

The quiet chirping of autumn insects fills the room, creeping in through the window, and is only interrupted when Giyu finally begins to speak, almost instinctively after finding it.

"Someone who wore these earrings told me before: the cords represent the flow of time itself and…the lives of people."

A voice then appears out of the haze of a memory, a voice that repeats what he himself has just said. It is soft, husky and quiet. Like something out of a folktale, one of those his sister used to read to him when he was a child. It sounds familiar , almost as if he's heard it many times in the past, but he can't be too sure about it.

"The threads tangle, twist, unravel and connect again… That's time..." Tomioka finishes, though he seems to be saying it more to himself than to Sabito. 

Whose voice is that? 

And suddenly there is something else, almost as if it materializes in his eyes, a scene bursts into his mind and images begin to flicker and linger for no more than a second, but it's enough for Giyu to recognize them and feel his heart suddenly racing.   

A mountain in autumn. The sound of a stream. The smell of the forest. The crunch of leaves and the earth beneath his feet. The taste of black tea. A strangely affable atmosphere.

A plain painted by green grass and small streams, scattered in a chaotic and messy way. A somewhat ancient looking tree despite its vibrant green color and all the leaves on its branches.

The shrine of the god atop the mountain. Musubi and the sake they offered to it.

"Maybe at that place-" Giyu finally comes to, the surge of adrenaline hitting him not letting him finish the sentence.  

Tomioka reaches under the pile of books for a map and opens it. It's from Itomori three years ago, and he found it in a small, dust-covered free standing shop before they reached the inn. The topography from when there was only one lake is quite clear and has been preserved; if he's not mistaken, the place where they offered the sake should be far from the area that destroyed the comet.

If I go there...

If that sake is there then...

Before he knows it, he has a pencil in his hand and his eyes search for a landform that looks like that. It was far north of the temple, a place resembling a caldera, a huge crater. 

Desperate yet expectant, Giyu tries to find something similar.

He may hear Sabito's voice once again telling him something, distant and almost muffled, but by now he can't take his eyes off the map.

It's dark. 

It's heavy and engulfing. 

Or it is light and dispersed?

Tomioka can't tell exactly where he is; there's no way of knowing either. He feels as if he is floating, suspended in one place, but as if he is falling through the void at the same time. 

Surrounded by something that seems too dense to be air, but too light to be water. 

Everything around him is nothing but an ethereal mist that fills every place in that strange space he finds himself in. Perhaps if he tried to blow he could scatter it, or perhaps it would be useless and all he would achieve is to run out of air.   

Oh, Giyu...

And then a voice is heard behind that fog. Disembodied, distant, and at the same time it is present, close. Tomioka recognizes it, that's the only thing he's sure of by the way something tightens inside his chest when he hears it. Someone calls his name. It's a boy's voice.

It makes me...so happy...to have met you.  

He sounds exhausted, as if he's making a great effort to talk to him. Even as if he's about to cry. A sad and trembling voice, but also warm and full of love, just like the glow of distant stars, confessing words that make him shudder even more.

He feels infected by everything that voice emanates and Tomioka is seized by the insane desire to get closer to it, to whoever is behind all that mist. But he can't move, he can't get closer no matter how hard he tries. 

He can only listen as that voice says a few last words. A last confession, sincere and full of emotions. 

Because...from the bottom of my heart.... I.... love you Giyu.

And Giyu wakes up .

His eyes flutter open and he immediately feels the familiar wetness of tears pooling on his eyelashes. He blinks and takes a couple of seconds to remember where he is or what's going on. 

Right, they're at the inn . He probably fell asleep and ended up slumped on the table by the window among a pile of books. 

He can feel Tengen and Sabito beyond the closed sliding door to his left where they both sleep on their futons. 

The room is strangely quiet. No insects or cars can be heard. Nor the blowing of the wind or anything as simple as the slow breathing of his friends' snoring. On the other side of the window, the world begins to shake off the darkness. Maybe it will be morning soon, he doesn't know for sure.

When he finally sits up with some heaviness, the rustling of his clothes is loud enough to wake him completely. Looking down, he finds again that photograph of the earrings he had thought of so many times a few hours ago. Almost as if coming out of it, the faint echoes of the boy's voice linger in his ears. That confession so strange and so familiar. 

Who are you? 

Naturally, no answer to that question comes.

Even if for a moment he thinks it's the boy he came looking for, he doesn't even know his name. 

He no longer remembers it.  

Behind the book is still the open map with all the marks and notes he made. A few scratches following a route and a vague phrase of "around here?"  

Each one so striking on its own and yet confusing at the same time, almost as if they speak to him, calling him to look at them no matter how hard he tries not to. 

He takes one last look at the earrings, almost as if to give himself courage, and breathes through his nose, pursing his lips in a straight line and finally makes a decision . 

He's already made it this far anyway. He doesn't have much to lose at this point.

Then he picks up a loose sheet of paper that was lying there and the marker that had slipped next to the book sometime during the night, then writes a note. 

Finally, Giyu takes a five thousand yen bill out of his wallet and leaves it next to the note, hoping that it will somehow make up for the inconvenience he has caused his friends so far.

He has never seen this boy in person before, and his image seems to blur with every passing second despite having felt it so clear at one point, but now something has begun to bubble up inside him. 

Filling his veins with renewed motivation to finally end it all.

Maybe it's his curiosity to understand what's going on; maybe it's his own denial ; maybe it's his still throbbing love for that boy; or maybe it's that unknown pull that's been with him for weeks now.

It doesn't matter. 

Whatever it is, he's going to find him once and for all.  

I have to go somewhere, return to Tokyo without me. 

I'll return later. 

Thank you.

-Giyu

Chapter Text

Giyu doesn't want to admit that the atmosphere inside that car is uncomfortable, since he was the one who showed up again in front of the restaurant where they had eaten yesterday looking for Mitsuri and Iguro first thing in the morning, but it really is uncomfortable. 

He's not even sure why they're helping him. That is, ever since he first saw them and they exchanged a few words, Tomioka felt a strange closeness with these people; that typical feeling of believing he already knows them, but knowing full well that he doesn't.   

He doesn't think they share that; it's not like he came to do something so remarkable that they would help him without hesitation, but Giyu wants to think it's not a pity-driven move after the scene he made yesterday. 

In fact, Giyu thinks that Iguro agreed to help him only because his wife managed to persuade him. Since yesterday, he has been somewhat gruff, sullen and not talking much, but his whole demeanor changes to a more friendly one when it comes to Mitsuri.   

If that hadn't worked out, the idea of hitchhiking crossed his mind, although he didn't think any car would have taken him to an abandoned and ruined town, so he is enormously relieved to have met them. 

Tomioka is in the back seats next to a couple of crates of fresh legumes cornered in the door to his left. In front are Iguro at the wheel and Mitsuri as co-driver. Neither of them have said anything the whole way, just let him go about his business, with the map of the old Itomori open in his lap and the map of the new one on his phone screen. 

He is grateful to be left his space, because he knows that even if they asked him or commented on something, he would have no idea what to tell them or how to explain himself. 

Turning his face to the side, from the window and through the glass, he has a view of the shore of New Itomori Lake. 

Half-ruined houses and broken asphalt languish in the water. Even far out into it, he can see telephone poles and iron beams protruding from the lake, which still shines like polished silver.

It should be a very disconcerting sight; a painful scene even, but Giyu must have gotten used to seeing it like this in all the books and photographs, because he starts to feel as if the place has always been like this. 

So far he doesn't know how to process everything he is seeing and experiencing. How he should feel afterwards. Whether he should be angry, grieving and sad, scared or lamenting his own helplessness. 

The very idea and reality of losing an entire village is probably too fucked up for ordinary people like him to comprehend. He can't even imagine how Iguro and Mitsuri must feel. Knowing that they are among the few survivors of such a horrible catastrophe. It's a story he's certainly curious about, but he's discreet enough not to ask and cause more trouble than he's already caused. 

Tomioka has since yesterday abandoned the search for meaning in the scene and his situation itself, so he prefers only to turn his eyes to the sky. To the few birds that fly overhead and to the gray clouds that hover high above, as if the gods had placed a huge dark blanket there.

"It looks like it's going to rain soon," Mitsuri murmurs in a small voice looking out the windshield at some point.

The car travels north along the lake and, when the road begins to break up and can't go any higher, Iguro throws on the handbrake as the map on his phone tells him they have arrived. Tomioka hurries to put his things in his backpack and get out of the car afterwards.  

"This mountain isn't very steep, but don't push your luck. If anything happens, don't hesitate to call us ." Mitsuri has rolled down the window as he stands beside her and speaks to him now with a sweet voice and a lip-stretching smile, "Besides, we brought you this to eat ." 

She holds out a large bento carefully wrapped in an orange cloth with children's prints. Giyu immediately accepts it with both hands feeling how heavy it is. The gesture is motherly in an odd sort of way, but not bad at all; it takes Giyu a while to remember that, although he thought they were his age at first, they are both several years older than him.   

"Thank you very much..." ...for everything.

The surprise and kindness of the gesture stuns him for a few seconds. He can't help but wonder again why they are doing this for him. Why have they been so good to a complete stranger who has done nothing but make trouble for them?

For a moment, there are so many things Giyu would like to tell them: that the ramen was great, that their company has been very pleasant and that, if he ever comes back, he will definitely return to their restaurant. It's too much, but he can't get any of the words to come out the way he'd like, the only thing that escapes his lips is a small "Thank you. Really ."

Mitsuri's smile only grows bigger and her cheeks turn a pretty pink color.  She then turns her face towards her husband, as if waiting , sure that he will say something else. 

Iguro does not look at them, for a second he even seems to avoid doing so and if Giyu were not also with his gaze fixed on him, he would swear that behind his face mask are hidden the faint flashes of a blush. 

He watches as his pale fingers fiddle with his grip on the steering wheel before finally speaking, his voice somewhat muffled, but clear behind the mask "Your drawing of Itomori.... Is a very good work."

Tomioka takes a deep breath. A lump forms in his throat and he is sure that the tightness he feels inside his chest is not due to the distant thunder rumbling softly.

The landscape around him starts to become recognizable somehow. Giyu is joined by the cold wind that stirs the tangled hair that falls in a ponytail down his back. And the thin-trunked trees, their curtains of leaves hiding the clouds that threaten rain. 

The earth crunches with each footfall beneath his feet as he walks up the path to the altar. It seems as vague as a deer's trail the further up the mountain he goes because of the vegetation. 

As a result, Tomioka has to stop several times to check the destination he has marked on the map with the phone's GPS. Everything seems to be going fine each time he's done it; he's getting closer, but he can't help but feel uneasy about the palpable possibility of getting lost .

The place looks familiar, he knows it, but Giyu has only climbed this mountain once, in his dreams. Not that he's too sure about it either, which means that for now, all he can do is follow the map and trust that it will lead him to this strange shrine. 

It's been about 30 minutes since he got out of the car, but that last interaction with Mitsuri and Iguro is still all too fresh. Tomioka had bowed, not knowing how else to express his immense gratitude to the couple, and only straightened when he had lost sight of them and stopped listening to the wheels of the car.

He saw the faces of Sabito and Tengen in his mind as he did so, wondering if they would have woken up and read his letter, or if they would be on their way back to Tokyo by now.  

 After all, both the couple and his friends came all the way here because they were worried about him on some level , and Giyu can't help but think that he must have seemed really pathetic , but at the same time he feels extremely moved . 

Maybe they thought he was going to cry all the time because of all those emotions that boiled and pounded inside him like a torrent , but they still stood by his side and supported him even when everything seemed to make no sense at all.

He now realizes how fortunate he is to be surrounded by such incredible people, who wrap him in affection and appreciation. 

He also realizes, firmly , that he can't keep acting like this forever. He can't keep taking advantage of the help people offer him; he can't keep doubting even though inside him the question twists and turns as to whether that sanctuary will be there and be real. 

It's like a life-sucking vampire. Hesitation . The fear that it really was just a dream. 

No. 

No.

Giyu shakes his head pushing the thought away and his steps become more determined as he continues to move forward, contemplating the new Itomori Lake through the gaps between the trees looking to distract himself.

A thick raindrop hits one of the reddish leaves on the nearby branches; it is followed by another, and another and another, until all the leaves rustle and shake around him. 

Giyu quickly pulls up the hood of his jacket hiding his hair and begins to run along the path. The temperature drops rapidly, absorbed by the rain that only seems to increase, falling with enough force to tear up the dirt and soak his clothes.

Giyu notices it on his skin along with a shiver and the heavy rise in his chest as he breathes.

Thunder crackles in the sky and the entrance to the small cave in which Giyu managed to hide is brightened. Although at first it looked like a hole between a group of rocks, it's wide enough for him to sit comfortably and wait out the storm. It's also covered enough to prevent leaks or small lines of water from seeping through the floor of the entrance. 

The cloth that covered the bento is spread out on the floor beside him, and the bamboo box is open. 

There are three large onigiris the size of his fist and a pile of garnishes. Thick slices of braised pork and bean sprouts sautéed in sesame oil give it such a stereotypical ramen food look that Giyu was amused as soon as he saw it after opening it.

He also has the map of Itomori spread out on the floor in front of him. He has been marking on it the route he was following with his phone in case the battery doesn't hold up for the whole trip. His body shivers with cold and the weight of his wet clothes is uncomfortable, but as he eats he warms up. 

As he chews the grains of rice and swallows them, Giyu begins to notice exactly where his throat and stomach are.

Musubi. This is musubi, Tomioka thinks.

The simple act of eating is musubi. That person , his grandfather , told him once. Putting anything into your body, whether it's water, rice or sake, also becomes a union. What you put in your body connects with your soul.

They converge and take shape. 

They twist, tangle, sometimes unravel, break, then connect again. 

Those words come back. A memory . A thought . Those threads, so complicated, that are joined like a spider's web between the branches of a tree. Fibers so fine yet so strong ; so chaotic yet also so straight , following an order until they connect and become a whole .

Musubi-knotting. 

That's time.

Inevitably, the image of those earrings in the magazine comes back to his mind; to his memory of them. Right now, that's the only connection he has. The only one that's still there, at least.

Tomioka finds himself wishing again for that shrine to actually be at the top of the mountain.

The rain is still pouring down, but it has eased off enough for Tomioka to get out of the cave and resume walking without having to squint at the drops of water hitting his face. 

Mud sticks to the soles of his shoes and the edge of the hem of his pants. With each step, Giyu is careful not to slip up and end up on the ground. One after another, he tightens his grip on the wet strap of his backpack. 

Before he knows it, the trees have disappeared and Giyu is surrounded by moss-covered rocks and grass on the ground covering the earth. Behind him, at his feet, the blanket of gray clouds stretches over the pumpkin-shaped lake in the distance, broken only by the mountain peaks rising to reach the sky. 

Giyu quickens his pace almost involuntarily out of eagerness to finally reach the top. When he stops, taking big breaths of air that mark the heavy rise and fall of his chest, he finds himself fully in front of that huge crater.

With that plain forming in its center, painted by green grass and what is now a decent sized pond in a chaotic and messy way. 

And in the center of it all, far below, covered by a thin layer of mist, a single, somewhat ancient looking tree despite its green color and all the leaves on its branches brimming with a sacred aura.

"There it is!" Tomioka blurts out, almost choking from disbelief and hot mist coming out of his mouth. "It's really there!" he repeats, almost like a mantra. 

Giyu feels how physically the weight of doubt fades away and is replaced by an overwhelming relief that loosens his chest and makes him stop being self-conscious for a second, as if he no longer feels the burning of his muscles from physical exhaustion or the goose bumps under his wet clothes.

He feels like he wants to laugh and celebrate and at the same time cry and scream because-. 

"It wasn't just... a dream ." The mist escapes again and his hand goes up to his hood, pulling it back in one motion so he can fully see what's in front of him. 

It wasn't a dream. It is there. It exists. It really exists. 

Tomioka is struck by a million things. By what it means. By the emotions it brings. The sting of tears appears in the background of the deep blue of his gaze, but Giyu doesn't allow himself to cry, he knows this is not the time to do it, so he presses his lips together swallowing the lump in his throat and rubs his face with the damp sleeve of his jacket. A determined look comes into his eyes.

And almost as if giving him a break to continue, the rain begins to subside into a light drizzle that slips down his cheeks like false tears. 

Giyu begins to descend carefully; calculated steps going deeper into the crater between the puddled grass and the light mist that covers everything with an almost melancholic aura, until he finally reaches the water's edge.

It's somehow different now that he sees it in detail.

In his memories there was only a small stream that split, spreading here and there, but now it is that one pond he saw from above. He wonders if it has grown like that because of the rain or if it's just that so much time has passed since he dreamed that the landscape has changed. 

In any case, the only thing that seems truly permanent and almost unchangeable is the large tree that stands several hundred feet away, on the other side.

" From here is the underworld… " Giyu says aloud in a slightly agitated tone. That comes to him like a memory. Someone once said it to him, almost as if he was referring to the Sanzu River , but that is highly unlikely. 

Tomioka doesn't hesitate and dives into the water, slipping a little in the algae and mud on the edge. He hears the splashing, big, as if someone were entering the hot springs loudly, and Giyu realizes late that the place is abnormally quiet. 

The water reaches his knees and he immediately feels the fabric of his pants sticking to his legs; every step he takes disturbs the water and makes it splash between waves and swirls. 

In his chest settles that strange feeling that he shouldn't be doing this, almost as if he is trampling something white and pure with the mud he brought from the path. All was silent until Tomioka appeared there and now, the deeper he goes into the pond, it's as if he's not welcome. 

As if something knows why he is there and won't let him continue. 

A shiver runs down his back. The icy water rushes to his chest, absorbing his body heat, but somehow he manages to cross over. 

The huge tree stands with its roots curled around a large slab of rock.

Tomioka still doesn't know what to make of this "god's body". Whether it is the tree, the rock, or whether the shape of the two entangled together is what the family worshiped and the reason he is there right now. 

The entrance to that small dark cave below, between the roots and the stone, is still there and Tomioka takes a breath, deep, settling the weight of his backpack on his shoulders before crouching down and entering. 

He walks down the stone steps, with that railing that doesn't seem steady enough separating him from a small fall into another pool of water that Giyu isn't sure if it was there before. It's a wide enough space to fit a sizable group of people. He then realizes that the silence is much deeper than outside, if that is even possible, making even a small drop falling from the ceiling echo loudly through the stone walls. 

In the darkness, every movement sounds violently loud ; something out of place there and it makes the feeling of being an outsider grow so much more. 

Giyu crouches down, bending his knees when he has reached the bottom of the cave. His backpack falls to the side and Giyu unzips his jacket with icy hands reaching for his phone. To his luck it hasn't gotten wet and he turns it on looking for and turning on the flashlight.

Everything is completely devoid of color or warmth as the light begins to bounce around him. The small altar of stone and old wood, covered in moss and dust, that is revealed before him is completely gray, the only color that stands out, is the worn red of the ribbons that wrap around the necks of the white porcelain bottles on either side. 

"It's the sake we brought…" Giyu murmurs to nothing, almost as if seeing it in front of him wasn't enough, then points the light of his flashlight at each bottle as he speaks and with complete certainty that he's not mistaken, "This one is his sister's, and this one is mine."

His hand closes around the bottle on the left as he picks it up, and as he tries to lift it there is a slight resistance and then a faint, dry tearing noise. Apparently the moss had deeper roots than he first thought. 

"Before the cometa stuck" he says to himself; without realizing it he stops feeling cold. Giyu takes a breath, as if to give himself courage and puts into words that thought he was trying so hard to avoid - to deny - but which had been inside him all this time, ever since they arrived in Itomori: "So the boy I know is from three years ago."

He brings the bottle up to his face and lights it up. The porcelain was shiny before, but now it is thickly covered by another layer of moss that he pushes a little away as if trying to clean it. It's not strange, after all it's been a long time since he was last here. 

"Our timelines got tangled somehow" 

Giyu places his phone face down on the ground beside him so that the light still shines on him. His fingers grab the end of the braided cord that seals the lid and he pulls to undo it. Underneath, there's a cork stopper. 

"Half of him..." The words come out of his mouth with an almost mellifluous touch that warms his chest. 

Tomioka pulls the cork out with a resounding Plop after struggling a bit and the faint scent of alcohol rises to caress his nose. He settles himself on the floor, sitting cross-legged, before pouring the sake into the cap.  

He picks up the phone again and brings the light closer to himself. The drink is transparent, with several tiny particles floating in it that reflect the light and glow in the liquid.

" Musubi ..." Giyu begins to say then, his gaze fixed and determined on the cap he holds. "If time can really be turned back... give me one last chance." 

It's almost a prayer, a silent plea. Words towards what is so present in the place and doesn't want him there. For a second it seems like he's asking permission for something. 

It's a sincere beg ; something that drags too much. His actions. His heart. His feelings. One might even say his reason for existing; for being there at that very moment. 

His love. 

His desire to see him again.

"Help me...remember him." 

Giyu brings the cap full of sake to his lips and drinks it all in one gulp throwing his head back; he does so after wishing for it to bring him back to him. The liquid passes loudly down his throat and a rush of heat runs through his body. It explodes as it reaches the bottom of his stomach and spreads through him.

And Giyu waits. 

But nothing happens.

He stands still for a few moments, letting the heat from the first drink evaporate. He is used to alcohol, you could say that between him, Sabito and Tengen, Tomioka has the most resistance when they all drank together, so he doesn't really feel any effect of it on his body.

And when he opens his eyes and again comes upon the same scene of the stone cave and the old altar, he feels disappointment drain his energies from head to toe. 

It did nothing . It didn't work .

He lets out the air in a heavy sigh and begins to move with the intention of getting to his feet. He leans on one of his knees and begins to get on his feet. 

But then his foot tangles, he slips and Giyu is falling. 

For a second, his vision starts to spin and he notices that it is strange because he has the feeling that he has gone backwards, but no matter how many seconds pass, his body does not touch the ground. 

His field of vision slowly rotates until it meets the ceiling of the cave. He knows he hasn't let go of the phone because the flashlight is also dragged by its momentum to the top. 

Giyu feels himself frowning in amazement, because, above him, something begins to appear. There is a very old image. It seems carved into the rock or painted with red and blue pigments that glow in the light. A giant traveling star dragging a long tail across the sky. 

Lines and brushstrokes painted in the most beautiful shades of purple and sky blue. A shimmering trail stretching out. Long hair of striking flashing colors.

Above is the drawing of a huge comet.

"A... comet!" he chokes, but manages to say it out loud.

Slowly, the drawing begins to rise from the cave ceiling. Tomioka stares at it, unable to take his eyes off it.

The image, the illustrated comet, begins to fall.

It slowly descends until it almost falls on him. It burns with the heat of its friction against the atmosphere, and the chunk of rock melts into crystal, glittering like a jewel. Even those details are ridiculously clear.

Giyu finally falls backwards and his head hits the rock. The last thing he can see is the comet crashing into him before everything goes black.

What is a memory? 

Is it the ability to remember that people have?

Is it the images of past events or situations that remain in the mind?

Or is it something inherited?

Something that is not necessarily of the you of now. 

Of the you of this life.

But from a previous one.

I open my eyes. 

I take a couple of deep breaths as soon as I do, almost as if I couldn't do it before I woke up. 

The first thing I notice is that I'm lying on something hard enough to be ground, or so I think; but it's not the cold, hard surface of the cave that's for sure. As I bring my body weight forward sitting up with ease I see that I am, in fact, no longer in the cave at all. 

Instead, I am in the same place as in my dream last night. Or in a similar place anyway. 

It's still dark. The atmosphere still has that strange combination of heavy and enveloping and light and sparse, all at the same time. 

But compared to my dream, in this place I can move. I have free will to stand up completely instead of just floating in nothingness. 

I look around me once the full weight of my body has settled on my feet, but I still can't make out anything that tells me where I am. I am still surrounded by that ethereal fog that fills every place in this strange space I find myself in. 

Then I look at myself, feeling my body; I am still wearing the clothes I arrived at the mountain in, however, when I touch my chest over my jacket I notice that it is dry, all of me has dried up; shoes, hair, pants. Somehow all the dampness caused by the rain and the journey to the sanctuary has disappeared and now I feel strangely warm. 

Then I freeze and, feeling a sudden tightening in my chest, I finally notice something that definitely wasn't there before. 

In my right hand, tied to the base of my little finger on my pale skin, is a string. It is neither too thin nor too thick. It looks like one of those that would be used for kumihimo, with that texture so characteristic of silk and its color so bright. 

It's red. A very bright red that seems to be the only thing that really manages to sparkle in all the darkness of the place. 

I also notice that the thread is not only limited to my little finger, but that it extends long and floats away from me. I look up following it, watching as the other side of the thread is lost in the fog in the distance.   

It moves suspended in the air as if it has a life of its own. It wiggles and curls and waves, then tenses and tugs on itself. I feel the tug too, that little squeeze on my skin that jolts and pretends to pull me in that same direction. 

It feels familiar. The tug.

I look at the thread one last time and before I realize it, my feet have started to move forward. Maybe it's because I don't have many options on what to do that I have no choice but to follow. 

My footsteps are silent, almost mute. Bursting through the fog, the only thing that tells me that the atmosphere is not just silence is the rustle of my own clothes as I move.  

I don't know how long I've been going or how far I've traveled when the darkness that surrounded me finally seems to begin to change. Slowly the scenery is replaced by a white landscape. On my face then there is a cold touch, and another and another and another. It's flakes. Snowflakes falling from the sky onto what is now a huge forest.

The red thread stops tightening and pulling me when I've gone far enough into it. I stop and the snow crunches under my feet. 

My brow furrows in an extremely confused pinch, I might say even more so than before. 

Why has it brought me here? 

A snowy forest, perhaps on a mountain by the slight gradient I can make out on the ground a few feet from me and continuing for several more. The trees are bare, thick trunks with their branches dry and thinner on top. 

When I raise my head I see a sky completely covered with gray clouds accompanied by the almost imperceptible snowflakes. A somewhat strong gust of wind stirs my hair from my face and sneaks through the collar of my jacket giving me a shiver. 

"No, wait, Nezuko didn't hurt anyone!"

Then I hear something that makes me turn my head and look straight ahead immediately. It's a voice sounding hurried and desperate among the trees up ahead, though I can't make out exactly where or whose it is.

Despite this, I feel myself holding my breath and it's almost as if a heartbeat escapes from my chest. 

Because I know that voice. Somehow I do. 

In fact, it sounds almost like the same voice that spoke to me in my dreams. 

That same voice that told me that he loved me. 

I find myself almost running over the snow in the direction it came from before I realize that the thread has tightened again and is tugging on my hand.

I move forward, dodging low branches and fallen logs. Accumulated snow I struggle not to get stuck in. The voice continues to speak, getting clearer and louder the closer I get. It's talking about a strange smell and...how something has killed a family. 

I feel my shoulders twitch at the possibility that someone might be dead and I finally stop, almost slipping in the snow in front of a tree with a thicker trunk than the rest. The voice seems to come from somewhere behind it. 

Being so close, I am able to perceive other sounds besides that voice; growls and cries that seem more like broken roars, like those of a desperate animal in captivity. 

A fearful hesitation makes me stay in my seat not knowing what to do now. 

Whoever is on the other side of this tree is having a discussion that seems heated enough to consider interrupting, so I have no choice but to stand still and wait. 

Wait even if the thread in my little finger continues to pull in that direction.

"I don't know why she became like this...but still-" 

"That's easy." 

Have you ever heard a scary story? 

Those stories of people telling that they heard their own voice calling them from the next room? 

Maybe they felt a huge skeptical confusion not knowing if it was their head playing tricks on them or if they really heard it. Or perhaps their first reaction was one of terror. A choking dread, so expected when encountering the unknown. 

"She was turned because the wounds were exposed to demonic blood."  

What I felt, however, could not be described as one thing; for me it was an amalgam of emotions that hit me from one moment to the next when at last a response was heard, interrupting those desperate exclamations. All at once. 

"That's how the demons multiply themselves." 

Heart dropping to the pit of my stomach in disbelief; shoulders tensing in surprise and the air disappearing from my chest for an instant at the realization. Brain working a mile a minute as I try to comprehend that this voice, this stupid, stoic, cold voice that has responded, is mine. 

It is my voice.

My voice, which is answering that person I'm sure I know who has spoken to me before. 

I don't understand what they are talking about. I don't understand what's going on. 

I swallow loudly and then take a deep breath, puffing out my chest with the icy air around me. I pluck up courage by tightening my lips and with cautious steps and a shaken gut, I begin to circle the trunk of the tree where the thread continues to pull. 

Slowly the scene that has been unfolding begins to present itself in front of me and I stop. A small clearing between leafless trees where snowflakes continue to fall; the first thing my eyes fall on is a boy standing at the other end in front of me. He looks several years younger than me, wearing worn winter clothes and a green and black plaid haori. 

And his face, cheeks ruddy from how shaken he looks, eyes a dark bright red, dismayed with frown lines all around. He has a strange mark on his forehead rising from the edge of his hair, equally flaming and striking. 

And on either side of his head, fluttering in the wind and from every sudden movement he makes, are the earrings, those that had caught my attention so much when Sabito had given me the book the night before. Those earrings that I knew. Those earrings that belonged to- 

Him.

It's... It's him! 

Once again, I am struck with recognition and realization, almost as if the air is being sucked out of me. He's the one I came for, even if he doesn't look at all like the boy I've been switching places with, something tells me it's him.

The sake worked. It really worked, it brought back to him again! 

I feel another tug of the thread on my little finger, and then I notice how it snakes its way out, until it reaches him and wraps around him as he takes a step forward and shouts again.

" I'll make her human again! I'll heal her!"

"There is no cure" 

I startle hearing my voice again, realizing that I was so caught up in seeing him in front of me that I didn't keep walking long enough to notice the obvious person standing literally next to me in front of the tree. 

I take two more steps and very slowly, and almost cruelly, I begin to see the features of his profile. Jet hair, long and tied in a ponytail that falls down his back. A dual haori on each side over his shoulders. Pale skin, thin face and upturned nose. Deep blue eyes without a hint of sparkle in them. 

That man, who is holding as if nothing with only one hand a girl who struggles and grunts as she wants to break free; who has a fixed, blank stare on him and who continues to speak in a stoic, dark voice, is me....

Or at least... someone who looks like me. 

I turn as the boy's words become more anguished, mentioning that he will find a cure for something and pleading to spare the life of who I assume is the girl my other self is holding. His tone of voice rises to almost screaming as I see myself raise a katana I hadn't noticed before and place it on her neck. 

I'm petrified, I don't understand anything. His desperation is contagious and I feel the urge to scream in the same way. To go to him, to do something! 

But I can't. 

"I beg you. Please...don't kill my sister. Please don't kill her! I beg you!" 

Not when his voice lowers, almost as a last resort, turning to a whisper as he begs, pressing his head against the snow on the ground. It breaks my heart. My chest rattles painfully and my lips tighten into a grimace. 

Because, somehow, I'm the cause of him being in this state. It's as if he's saying it to me. 

Begging to me. 

When I turn towards myself, almost as if I can't bear to look in the other direction, I'm met with a frown that slowly distorts into anger. Rage. The features of his face tighten. Jaw clenched for a couple of seconds, as if holding back so as not to explode, but failing midway. 

"Don't humiliate yourself like that to give your enemies a chance to kill you!"

Both the guy crouched on the ground and I startled. He lifts his head and his gaze meets that of myself, standing still, almost as if his body is frozen with snow. 

"All you're doing is making yourself vulnerable! If that had any success, your family would still be alive!"

That blue gaze, so identical to mine, burns with a rage that even I didn't know I was capable of feeling and expressing. His voice, which has ceased to be stoic, only comes out disrupted, spitting out words that leave the boy on the ground stunned and hurt him more and more.

Enough. 

Shut up.

"The weak have no rights. They can't make decisions! All they do is get crushed mercilessly under the one who is stronger!"

Shut up! I don't think that way!

I don't-

I... I don't...

I don't think like that... 

Right? 

My other self continues with his speech until he seems to run out of air from shouting and then there is a tense silence. There is only the snowy wind rushing around. I can see the expression on his face at all times: eyebrows drawn together in a pinch over those dull blue eyes and lips pressed together in an uncomfortable grimace. I wonder if my own face looks like that right now.   

My voice echoes again, but this time as words inside...my head. And the thing was, it wasn't me thinking them. 

They were coming from him. From my other self.

He utters words of strange comfort directed at the other boy in the snow. Words of understanding that seem almost genuine. Somehow I know he's saying it from experience and I don't know how to feel about it.

Do you really get it? 

Why do you say it like we've been through the same thing? 

Why do you say it like we've lost someone too? 

The next thing happens too fast. A strong gust of wind whips through the snow; for a second it blocks my vision and I almost lose what's happening. The boy tries to fight back when my double stabs the girl in the chest with the katana.  The boy screams and there are footsteps in the snow; my breath catches.  

You let the emotions wash over you.

I think, though I'm not sure if it was me or my other self.  I feel my body react next to his; I want to move closer, say something and raise my voice as I watch him knock him out but the air goes out when an axe appears out of nowhere whirling through the air. My other self dodges it, just barely. 

The girl in his hands manages to break free and runs towards the redhead. My double gets... alarmed for some reason and is frozen when he sees her protecting him, as if he was waiting for something else.  

Then it goes to a short confrontation when the girl, Nezuko? throws herself at my other self and I finally notice her hands and teeth, sharp as those of an animal.  She attacks him almost furiously, and dodges when he reacts the same way, but it's not long when he knocks her out too. 

And I'm still with my feet sunk in the snow, unable to do more than watch what's going on without understanding anything. How should anyone react in this situation anyway?

But then I realize something; something that should have been obvious all along. 

All this time, none of them noticed I was there. Almost as if they had ignored me on purpose or... They hadn't seen me in the first place. 

Nor have they noticed the thread, which at all times has been meandering in the center of the clearing, suspended in mid-air. It's too obvious and noticeable on its own to miss, although, come to think of it, when the boy dashed toward my other self pretending to hold the axe in his hands, it passed over the thread, almost as if it went through it or was somehow disembodied.

Now that my double looks less alert than he did a few moments ago, with his attention set only on tying a sort of bamboo muzzle around the girl's mouth, it should be a simple matter to turn around and notice my presence there. But it doesn't happen, no matter how long it takes for the other boy to wake up. It is only there that my double speaks again.  

"You woke up, what's your name?" 

 "T-Tanjiro. Kamado Tanjiro."

Tanjiro...

Tanjiro.

Your name is Tanjiro.

I feel a rush of emotion throughout my body at the sound of his name. The one I had forgotten. I could repeat it a million times so it won't slip away again.

"When you find him, tell him Giyu Tomioka sent you."

If there was any doubt left in my mind about this person's identity, it vanishes in its entirety after hearing it, though it doesn't come as much of a surprise to me as I would expect. After saying something else, my double quickly vanishes like a blur. 

I wait a few seconds for something else to happen, but the image in front of me seems to have frozen. 

I hesitate, but finally move closer until I'm standing in front of him. Tanjiro is static, kneeling on the snow holding his sister against his chest. His gaze straight ahead is still fixed on the spot where my double was a few seconds ago. 

It's as if someone has paused a movie.

I bend down until I'm kneeling at his level and, before I really notice, my hand, the one on which the red thread is tied, has moved up to touch his cheek. Cupping it with a caress of my thumb. The skin is soft and strangely familiar, I can feel it, just as I feel the cold wind rushing and the snow on my clothes. 

There is another tug of the thread on my little finger and I watch as it continues to snake and stretch into the distance catching my attention again and encouraging me to follow it.

My gaze returns to Tanjiro's face going over his contracted features one more time before I muster enough willpower to stand up and walk away. 

I tell myself that I have no choice but to do it. I can't stay no matter how much I want to. 

I have to know what is going on.

Chapter Text

And where do human memories live?

Are they in the synaptic circuits of the brain? 

Do retinas and fingertips also store memories? 

For what seems like hours, the thread takes me on a journey through several scenes. In each of them my other self is present, as in a kind of life in a dystopian world. His life.

"If there is a demon who has never eaten a human, and chooses to starve to death, I will take them in, and give them my love until they die." 

Although I struggle at first, I slowly come to understand what Tanjiro was referring to in that first scene. Demons. Slaughter and blood. A faint hope that represents that extermination corps.

"His message, it's most likely for you. Live." 

It's terrifying, and yet my other self does his job with such... overwhelming stoicism. With that face with no expression other than impassive, and those eyes without a hint of sparkle in them.

Don't waver, Giyu. 

"You've really changed, Tomioka-san."

"Did something happen that made you change your mind?" 

That boy... Did I do the right thing at that time?

And even so, it doesn't seem so unimaginable coming, literally, from myself.

"Even if something happens, my heart will never waver." 

Deep down, we're the same, I think. We're awkward with people and hopelessly blunt. We love salmon with daikon and dogs hate us. 

I'm no swordsman, I've never seen a real katana in my life and I don't know how to move with such agility either. That's obvious, but, the most different thing is that in every scene I go through following the thread, in every moment, I see myself alone. Sad.

What happened to us? 

I'm not sure I want to know.

"Isn't the moon lovely?" 

"I am only here to slay some demons." 

"How callous of you!"

The next time I see Tanjiro is on a mountain, two years after that day in the snow.

"Fight me, Mismatched Haori!" 

Well, my other self first finds one of Tanjiro's friends and saves him from being killed by a demon. It's Inosuke, I recognize him right away by that creepy boar head , and I wonder if his other friend is here too.

"You did well holding on until I came." 

But as strange as the situation with the previous guy ended, seeing Tanjiro on the ground, bloodied and about to be killed by the threads was something that stopped my heart for a second. 

I understand that... he's not my Tanjiro, but I can't help but fear and worry anyway, quite the opposite of how my other self appears, cutting off the demon's head in one motion and without batting an eye.

"Don't waste your pity. It was a demon."

I'm annoyed to see that he doesn't even seem to recognize them; recognize him. 

But just as I'm about to walk on in my own frustration, ignoring the fact that the thread isn't moving forward, I hear him in my head:

Isn't that...?

And he narrowly manages to fend off the full-on attack Shinobu appears on the scene with. 

"Ara~"

"Why are you getting in the way, Tomioka-San?" 

His behavior is contradictory; speaking in such a closed manner at first, only to express a totally different thing with his actions. 

Huh. 

Seems like we always end up doing that.

"That's why everyone hates you."

Well... You didn't have to say it that way.... 

"Even if it costs you, you have to leave. Take your sister, and leave."

"Tomioka-San..."

It's strange to hear him say my name as him, and not in a note in the diary on the phone or written in marker on my hand. 

Although now that I think about it, Tanjiro never referred to me by my last name, he always called me by my first name. He always called me Giyu, as if there had never been that trust barrier. As if I hadn't been a stranger from the beginning.

"Arrest Tanjiro and Nezuko and take them to the barracks!" 

I wonder, were you feeling frustrated at that moment?

"You are here because you, Tanjiro Kamado, will stand trial."  

"What do you have to say to defend yourself, Tomioka?"

"That's enough! The boss will be here any minute!" 

Why didn't you say more than that? 

Was that your only reason for intervening? 

Did you feel helpless watching as you could do nothing but watch while Tanjiro was on trial?

Did you feel anything when you saw how Sanemi treated Tanjiro?

"I myself, as well as, Tanjiro Kamado and Giyu Tomioka, will take responsibility by going to seppuku." 

Was there really nothing else to do? 

"What do you think you're doing, Tomioka?" 

I could only wonder, because the longer I waited, the longer I held out to hear his thoughts in my own head, the more I was met with silence.... 

There was nothing at all.

It was as if my other self had thought of nothing all that time. 

Or as if it had refrained from doing so. 

Blank mind. 

Without thinking. 

Without feeling.

"Tomioka-San, I thank you so much about Nezuko. I had no idea. I don't know how to return the favor."

"You can thank me by giving your all. Our mission is to kill demons. That's all."

What a mess...

Or is there an invisible, amorphous, misty spiritual collective somewhere, and is that where memories reside? 

Something we would call the heart, mind or soul. 

The next time I see Tanjiro again, it's only because Shinobu asks, but regardless, I think it becomes a breaking point. 

  "After all, he is your responsibility."

It's from this moment on that something changes. 

It's almost imperceptible, and were it not for the fact that I'm literally looking at myself, I wouldn't have noticed it because of how subtle it is. 

Then my hand is reaching up to hold Tanjiro's hair gently. Like it's going to break if you breathe too hard near him. 

I don't think I've ever held or even caressed someone like that before. Let alone expected it from the other Giyu.

Maybe...it's time to answer to your crows.

The scenes change. The thread guides me. I find myself returning to the Butterfly Estate a couple more times, only to sit down and give my silent company to a still unconscious Tanjiro.

And I think.I think a lot.

I allow myself to do it.It is a constant battle between the unwavering principles that I myself have engraved in my head with fire; and the ember of something... that has been kindled among the ashes of a darkened heart.

I could not say what it is, for there is too much of it. There is guilt. There is doubt. There is fear.

But, as strange as it may seem, to me, whatever it is Giyu has begun to feel is...not good. 

I don't know. It could be just my ideas, or is it that we really are so alike that I can distinguish the same emotions that cross behind the blue of his gaze, but to me, whatever it is that's flared up there looks like....

Pity.

Pity for Tanjiro. 

And I feel those foreign yet so thickly familiar emotions. 

But I know they are not mine. 

Not anymore. 

I recognize the corridor of Butterfly Estate again. 

The thread doesn't move; it doesn't call me to follow it, so I just wait. It's something I've noticed so far: some scenes don't start as soon as I set foot in them. It's strange and, honestly, I don't think there's any point in looking for a reason for it.

Almost out of the blue, I turn my face and see myself turning down the hallway. I look tired, there are some noticeable dirt and blood stains on my haori and I have dark circles under my eyes. 

I stand still, contemplating my disastrous appearance and feel a worried frown crease my brow. I continue to sink into this endless pit of self-destruction and it is infuriating to say the least. 

In Tokyo, I am surrounded by people who would never let me go to such lengths. Most of them would willingly hit me over the head just to talk some sense into me.

Even when I skip dinner, there are people who jump up to complain about it. 

But he... 

He walks past me until he stops at the door I already know and enters the room. I do the same, slipping inside before he closes it.

And again, he sits and stands silently watching Tanjiro. 

He looks better than the previous times, although I don't know exactly how much time passes within what to me is only seconds. 

And again, he remains silent most of the time. I don't know how much time passes, too focused on myself with Tanjiro, when the door opens again and both I and my double are startled by the intrusion.

"Oyakata-sama...!"

"Giyu"

It is nice to see the enormous respect that all the pillars feel for the boss, including myself in spite of my peculiar behavior. 

Even though what I am seeing is nothing more than a scene produced by this strange space as if it were a play, I as a spectator; a stranger, can feel that calmness and lightness, as if my whole body was floating. 

It was a pleasant surprise to see him enter the painting, although, in comparison, my double seemed tense as he immediately got up to help him finish entering the room, leaving one of the girls accompanying him to leave. 

"When Kocho told me Tanjiro had visitors, I didn't expect it to be you." 

"I can leave if it bothers you."

"Not at all, Giyu. Please stay."

Even if what I'm seeing is nothing more than a scene produced by this strange space as if I'm in the middle of it, I notice that the mark on his face has spread more than the last time. He also looks thinner, frailer and weaker, and that is worrying. My double also notices and tells him so, thinking the same as me: he shouldn't be here

But Oyakata-sama just smiles and agrees with him, saying that, unfortunately, this is the last visit he will visit the resting slayers. 

Then he turns his attention back to me, as if I mattered more than his own health. At that moment I remember Tanjiro. Too kind and selfless for his own good.

"I'm certainly curious about your presence here." 

"Shinobu asked me to come'.

Liar. 

Oyakata-sama hums in easy acceptance of that answer, and then asks how Tanjiro has been. His recovery and how long he's been in a coma. My double replies, repeating the report Shinobu gave him at some point, explaining that he's been in bed for over a month so far. He speaks without pause, but of course keeps to himself the fact that he has come to see him often.

"You sound tired, Giyu."

"...I came after finishing a two-week mission."

"Hmm, I didn't think Kocho would be so heartless as to ask you to come after such a long mission."

"You'd be surprised."

Then there is silence; for a moment I think it's going to stay that way. I wouldn't be surprised if this Giyu doesn't say anything else either. But Okayata-sama does, and we're both surprised, causing us to turn our faces to look at him.

The other me looks more shocked actually.

"Why are you really here, Giyu?"

I've been wondering the same thing.

This Giyu just looks at him. He blinks. I see him clench his fists gripping the edges of his haori and purses his lips.  Then he turns his face away, almost avoiding a gaze that isn't really on him, but feels that way. Like a child who has been caught in his own lie. 

I almost feel the seconds counting down, waiting intently for him to say something. 

"Tanjiro is my...responsibility. I got him into this."

What...?

"That day on the mountain...I couldn't complete the job. I couldn't do the one thing I was supposed to do and now he..." 

His speech cuts off, almost as if his throat had gone dry and he couldn't say what follows. I ...know what he means. It pains me to know what he means. 

Giyu sighs, though it sounds more like a huff, and speaks again. 

" I have to be here." 

And Oyakata-sama doesn't waste a second in replying. 

"My child, I think you're being dishonest."

All that confidence with which my double had spoken, with which he had declared that, vanishes and he looks back at the boss. 

"What-"

"And a bit of a hypocrite if that's the only reason you're here."

He looks surprised, and for a second there's a spark of pain in the blue of my eyes. Because he has that kind of effect on people. 

"You say it's your duty, but is it what you want?"

"Tell me Giyu, are you here because you want to be here?"

"Or because you just feel that you need to be here?"

It's a scolding that sinks in even in me. Word after word, slipping between smiling lips. 

It freezes me and I look back down at myself. Still and almost unblinking. Not knowing what to say. Oyakata waits, impassive, for me to answer that open-ended question. And I am praying that the answer from this Giyu, is the same answer I would give. 

"Answer."

"Answer the question"

"I...I want to be here."

"I came all this way to see him."

But he doesn't say it. His silence stretches, even in his head, and there is nothing. And that's enough of an answer. For the boss. For me. 

"You...you're not here because you want to be. You're not here because you care. 

You're here because of the weight of your duty and your selfish mentality has brought you nothing but loneliness. 

Does it bring you any remorse to know that it is true that we are hypocrites?" 

My lips have parted and I have begun to speak aloud before I really realized it.

"Why?"

"Why don't you care?"

I don't know at what point I moved to stand next to the other Giyu, but I did. Footstep after footstep, until the tips of my shoes are brushing against the bench he's sitting on. I speak to him as if he can hear me. 

"You should care!" 

We should care!

I'm yelling. 

"Why are you like this!"

"Why are we... like this?"

And he's got his head down.Like he's really listening. Taking in every word I throw out. My chest feels heavy; I'm sure his too. My eyes sting, threatening to cry in frustration; maybe his too. My heart burns with rage; but I'm not sure his does too. 

"I love Tanjiro."

My love for Tanjiro burns so strong, so vast, so clear and certain that it threatens to engulf every last part of my being. 

And, still, I would blindly let myself be consumed.

Welcoming with open arms the good and the bad. Its curses and its blessings. Its ups and downs. The sweet and the bitter.

All of it.

Because it's worth it. Tanjiro... worth it.

"But you don't."

I hardly ever get angry, not to the point of screaming until my throat is exhausted, at least, yet it frustrates me. It frustrates me way too much watching this version of myself lock up and walk away. As it runs away from Tanjiro.

I don't quite understand why he does it. 

Or maybe I do. 

Deep down inside. 

I'm not sure.

I'm catching my breath. My throat burns. My jaw is tense. 

And then I look down, almost automatically, finding that red thread, standing still from my pinky. It stretches out, wrapping around Oyakata-sama and the other Giyu by the feet, then getting lost under the bed Tanjiro is on. For a moment it's as if he squeezes with an invisible tug, and it brings out a grimace from me. 

I let out a groan unable to help my exasperation. The frown on my face furrows even more.

"Why are you showing me all this..."

I ask, as if it can actually answer to me and was a person, instead of just nothing in a recovery room. 

"What's...the point of this?"

"You must remember, Giyu..."

"What-"

The boss's voice makes me turn around. He's talking to him, to me, or maybe to both of us, with that unflappable smile and fruity voice that, for some reason, makes all the suffocating anger dissipate. 

"...That you are the only thing in this life, over which you are in control."

"And no one else has any reason to make demands on you over it." 

In this Giyu's eyes there is a glint. One of the blink-and-you'll-miss-it type, but, this time, it's different since his gaze is somehow illuminated. 

And I think...

I think it's a good thing. 

The first crack in the Water Pillar. 

They say that, sometimes, all it takes is a little push. A reality check, to make things happen. And, to my surprise, what follows I could only describe as jumping and crossing the threshold to a cliff after hesitating for too long, which eventually turns into a precipitous plummet. 

In this other Giyu there is a change that grows as the moments pass. 

"You woke up."

"Tomioka-san..."

At first, he doesn't return to the Butterfly Estate until weeks later, when Tanjiro has woken up. He finds him in the dark, sitting on the bed with Nezuko once again small and asleep on his lap. 

Tanjiro looks up when he hears him coming in, and the smile that comes across his lips and generally every expression of surprise that turns into total happiness, makes me skip a heartbeat and forget how to breathe for a moment. 

God...how long have I wanted to see him.

Everything about Tanjiro just glows at the sight of him. That bright smile that narrows his cheeks, painting his cheekbones a beautiful reddish hue that stands out even more in the dim candlelight.

His eyes are shining too, with such emotion and familiarity that it stirs my insides. 

Those eyes that somehow got me to fall in love. 

Tanjiro straightens up better with caution and doesn't take his eyes off him until he's sitting next to his bed. 

And they talk, for what also seems like hours. Oh, well, Tanjiro talks, and I listen.

And for a moment, I lose myself in his laughter. In the movement of his lips. In the sound of his voice and how those pesky earrings sway with his every movement. 

And for a second, I'm overcome with a sense of deja vu. Almost as if this has already happened. As if I've already seen him act like this with me, a million times in the past. 

Does it make sense?

The strange idea that I know his every expression and his way of being. That I already knew him, even before we started switching places and walking in his shoes. 

And because of that, I could recognize him by touch alone, by smell . That I would know him blind, even if he never spoke to me again, I would only need the way his breath came to me and how his feet stuck in the ground, or how his fingers brushed the surface of his uniform to know that it was him. 

That... I would know him in death.

At the end of the world. 

Maybe it has to do with the fact that the other Giyu has started to become aware of those little details about Tanjiro and that I literally hear what he's thinking, that I do the same. 

Or maybe not.

I really hope not.

Giyu sends a raven to Tanjiro when he learns that he has gone to the blacksmith village, whatever that place is. I only know that the katanas they use come from there.

I'm quite surprised that he decided to do that. Tanjiro used to send me crows before, little letters of no more than five lines in which he wished me well and told me little things about his missions or his sister, but I always left them unanswered. 

I remember hearing in the back of his mind the idea that maybe it was time for him to do it, but I didn't think he would actually do it.

It's a short reply, no more than two lines, wishing him luck in his time there, but it's a reply nonetheless. 

I wonder if he was happy to receive it. I'm sure he was, when he read the name of the one who sent it to him. I'm sure his eyes shined when he read it, as striking as when he saw him enter his room inside the Butterfly Estate. 

I would have loved to have seen it.

To say I was worried after hearing how they had fought and won against not just one, but two Upper Moons, would be an understatement. I was genuinely scared. 

The other Giyu wasn't as scared as I was, but I know there was some concern there, and that didn't dissipate, even for me, until he didn't get back to the Butterfly Estate and saw Tanjiro with more bandages than last time and a broken leg.

But he was alive, and to me that mattered more than anything. 

"I'm afraid you're becoming a magnet for demons." 

"Please don't say that Tomioka-San." 

But his smile calmed me down when he heard the attempt to lighten the mood coming from me, even if a bad feeling settled in my gut and left me with a bittersweet feeling. 

That visit didn't last as long as I would have liked, as Shinobu came into the room, with that unflappable smile, and took me with her to an emergency meeting at the Ubuyashiki Estate.

Chapter Text

Is it something that can be taken out and put back in, like a memory card in an operating system?

"For our pillar meeting today, I, Ubiyashiki Amane, will attend in place of Ubuyashiki Kagaya." 

All the pillars are kneeling on the floor of the place. The shoji doors are wide open, and every now and then a gentle breeze can be felt. 

The place has a strong smell of incense that makes me feel strange. It was dense and made my nose itch at first. I was sitting in the second row, behind Gyomei Himejima, if I remember his name correctly, listening to the master's wife as she leaned forward apologetically. She is elegant and delicate, even with a gesture like that she looks ethereal.   

"At this time the illness affecting our master Kagaya has worsened and he apologizes for not being able to attend this meeting before you all." 

The atmosphere becomes a little tense among all the pillars. My memory goes back to the last meeting I had with the master months ago, where his condition seemed quite bad. Now, I can't imagine how he must be, a couple of rooms away from where we are all gathered.

The meeting begins with the mention that, as a demon, Nezuko has managed to conquer the sun and that she is at the estate at that time. Also how the time of the final battle is approaching, because Muzan's goals have certainly changed. 

From there I lost the thread of the conversation a bit, not understanding what these marks were and the conditions for obtaining them that they were talking about. 

Or, deep down with something tugging at my mind, at the same time I felt as if I did, and there was another rare moment of deja vu.  

"During the Sengoku era, there were some swordsmen who were one step away from taking down Kibutsuji Muzan, they all had marks that looked like demonic crests."

I was sweeping my eyes around the room, looking at all the other pillars with me and how they reacted, each one in a different way. 

"But we have a constant piece of knowledge about them; once one person has that mark on them, it starts to spread to others as if they are resonating." 

Now that I think about it and look at them closely, I know most of these people. 

Last time I didn't pay attention to them because I was too focused on watching Tanjiro's trial, but now it's different.

There are Mitsuri and Obanai, who own that restaurant, and who were the ones who showed me that destroyed Itomori and who were too kind to me. 

There's also Sanemi, my high school classmate who strangely still talks to me, although I'm more than certain that he doesn't like me for some reason. 

I think I've seen Himejima in Tokyo, at a kindergarten near the train station, if I'm not mistaken, but I don't know him at all, so I could be very wrong. 

If memory serves me right, Tengen was also a pillar here and was part of the group, but he retired. 

The only ones I have never met or seen in my life are Tokito Muichiro and Kocho Shinobu, however I don't feel like a complete stranger to Shinobu at the moment. 

All those people, in appearance, share similarities with the ones I'm seeing now, and at the same time they are surrounded by such a different aura in their behavior that makes it contradictory.

I wonder if I will see Sabito too at some point. 

"The first person to get his mark was not any of the pillars here. It was Tanjiro Kamado. He was the first with the mark."

My gaze involuntarily returns to the master's wife at the mention of Tanjiro, and I smile to myself as I imagine him trying to explain his own mark, in that peculiar way of his. 

When Mitsuri tries, it turns out to be the same as with Tanjiro, meaningless expressions and noises, and this time I can't help but chuckle a little, shaking my head.

"A heart rate over 200 BPM... and a body temperature of about 39 degrees?" 

 "So it's that simple, huh?" 

"I envy the simpletons who can say this is simple." 

"What?"

"Nothing."

I guess it's easier said than done, but I wasn't expecting such a direct and impulsive comment, especially directed at Sanemi, which makes me freeze before this other Giyu regrets saying it.

"Those who have manifested the mark must participate. No matter on whom it has appeared, and there will be no exceptions."  

"And now, why do you have that expression on your face, Giyu?"

The rain began to fall at some point. I can hear it outside, thick drops stinging on the garden ground and gusts of wind.

They have no order. They are chaotic. Overflowing.

Drop. Drop. Drop. Thundering.

Raging out of control. Rising above the soft voice of the master's wife. 

Beat. Thundering. Beat. Beat.

It takes me a moment to realize that it is my own heart, pounding in my chest, echoing in my ears like that. 

The meeting ended some time later, and the rain along with it; petricor was in the air, and the sun was lower in the sky. Miss Amane exited with her daughters as gracefully as she had entered, and then there was a breath of discomfort before I saw myself getting up. 

"Now that Amane-Dono is gone, I'm leaving."

"Wait, don't go yet, man.  We should make our future plans now, right?"  

"Then the six of you can talk about it, it has nothing to do with me."  

"What do you mean it has nothing to do with you? You don't understand your position as a pillar here."

"Tomioka-san, please tell us why." 

"...I'm not like you."

What do you mean by that?

I look at myself trying to understand. I look at the expression on my face, my eyes and the ghost of a frown. 

I know myself. I know myself well enough to recognise what's behind that monotonous tone of voice and that dull blue gaze. It's not egocentrism, much less superiority. I have never, in my 21 years of life, been one to express it that way.

Inferiority, perhaps? Self-sabotage and self-deprecation?

I'm not sure I want to know the reason for that. 

But, of course, to the rest of the people in this room, it doesn't look that way. 

The situation almost escalates more than it needs to, and honestly, a part of me deep down was expecting anyone to beat some sense into me, but the whole place shakes from Himejima's resounding applause, interrupting Sanemi from unsheathing his katana. 

But, despite the insistence, all I do is retreat quietly when given the chance. 

And again, this Giyu makes sure to think of absolutely nothing, maintaining that suspense that is beginning to get on my nerves and that white expression on his face.  

Days go by, three to be exact and all I see is myself patrolling the area assigned to him. The demonic attacks have decreased almost completely due to Nezuko's situation, but that doesn't take away the latent restlessness that doesn't allow this Giyu to stay still. 

The routine is rather monotonous; doing nothing but standing guard all day and then returning to the Water Estate where he lives.

The place is big; too big, too cold and too lonely, which makes me get a knot in my stomach again and wonder how he puts up with it.  There is also this air of familiarity, so strange that it made me look around more than once, trying to find something that wasn't really there. 

Sometimes he would kneel in the main room to meditate in silence. Sometimes about his day, about something that had happened in the nearby town; or others he thought about nothing at all.

But, not once did he think about the pillar training that was beginning to take place and that he was avoiding at all costs; and not once did he think about Tanjiro. 

“Excuse me!”

“Tomioka-San! Hello?”

I don't stop the smile stretching my lips as Tanjiro's voice reaches us, somewhat muffled by the door separating us, but just as cheerful and animated.“Giyu-San it's me! Kamado Tanjiro!”

“Sorry to bother you!”

“Giyu-san it's me! Kamado Tanjiro!”

“Hello!”

This Giyu doesn't move, on the contrary, all he does upon recognizing the voice is move his gaze to the same spot on the door for a couple of seconds before returning it to the wall.  

“All right, I'm coming in!”

That makes him twitch his shoulders and I feel my smile widen even more. I'm coming in?

Coming in?

No, he must have said, “I'm leaving.” 

“No, that's not what he said.” 

I misheard him. 

“No you didn't.” 

There is a brief moment of silence and then Tanjiro's smiling, warm figure peeks through the open shoji doors, almost sparkling around him, like a real sun. 

I turn and find myself twitching my shoulders, surprised that the boy actually walked into the estate; the tips of the long jet hair falling down his back seem to bristle, like a real hedgehog, which makes me wonder if I'll look like that myself when I react like that. 

“So long story short, everyones been training.”

“I know.” 

Next thing I know, Tanjiro is sitting across from this other Giyu and it looks like he's brought food with him by the blue cloth bag now resting on the floor. His left leg has not yet fully healed, so it's stretched out next to him, almost touching his thigh. 

They're pretty close together, their knees would bump if one moved forward a bit, but Giyu doesn't seem to mind too much, well, not enough for him to say it out loud, and he just thinks about it, looking down for a second. 

Too close.

Lucky bastard. 

“Oh, I'll be cleared  for active duty in seven days time,”

“Do you think you could train me?”

“That's a no.” 

I've been sitting on the right side next to Tanjiro and the goofy smile that's been planted on my lips all this time finally disappears and I turn to look at myself in disbelief. 

“But why not?”

It's Tanjiro who takes the words out of my mouth.

“Im catching a faint whiff of anger”

“But what are you mad about?”

Compared to me, he still has that innocent smile on his face and, from that almost naïve gleam in his eyes, perhaps he doesn't notice the sudden change in mood and how Giyu, ever so slightly, clenches his fists. 

“I'm angry you didn't master Water Breathing to perfection”

“You were supposed to become the Water Pillar.” 

“What?”

“Right now, in the absence of the Water Pillar, someone has to assume the mantle sooner rather than later”  

“This isn't right.”

“But we have you Giyu-san?”

“I'm not the Water Pillar.”

This Giyu stands up then; a blank stare; a blank face; a blank mind. So fucking self-restrained that even I can't tell what's going on in his head, but I know he's upset somehow by the pounding of his heartbeat rumbling inside my ears. And I stand there, static, watching him raise the katana and walk past Tanjiro, not even turning to look at him and merely saying a few last words. 

“Now please leave.” 

Tanjiro didn't leave. 

“Giyu-san, I brought some Onigiri with me! Would you like to have them with me?”

Once again, we had underestimated him.

“They say you can't be in a bad mood on a full stomach.”

This Giyu locked himself in another room of the estate, and from inside we could see the silhouette of Tanjiro's shadow, drawn over the door by the evening lights. I turn to look at myself, waiting for him to get up, open the door and eat with Tanjiro as I would have done, but, again, he doesn't, and I feel my eyelid twitch a couple of times. 

“Alright, I'm going to leave them here.”   

“You're really getting on my nerves, you know that?”

I can't help but say to myself, almost as if I can actually blame him for not behaving the way I want him to.

.

.

.

The door slid open and I found myself taking the bag of food when it was not yet fully dawn. He opened it carefully, stretching the cloth on the floor and hesitating for a second, letting his hand hover over it, before taking one of the onigiri to his mouth. There is the slight tug of a smile that fails to form on his cheeks and the frustration I felt fades a little.  

This Giyu finished the onigiri and left the room. The air was cool and the dew of dawn moistened my cheeks as we walked down the hallway on our way to the same room as the day before. 

Then, we both froze as we saw Tanjiro's figure after sliding the door open. He was asleep on the floor, with only his plaid haori covering him like a blanket. Before either of us could say anything, he wakes up and straightens up, then smiles towards that other Giyu, as broad as ever despite everything, and wishes him good morning. 

“So you've had those onigiri. I'm glad to see that!”

He clenches the hand that still holds the cloth the food was in, but I couldn't tell if it's due to the fact that he was caught or the disbelief of seeing how, despite having been extremely rude to the point of having him sleeping on the floor in a room that isn't even used for that, Tanjiro doesn't seem to be fazed at all.  

Once again, we are both reminded of how stubborn and unpredictable Tanjiro can be.

This Giyu then takes a breath and, with an indecipherable expression on his face, turns and walks out of the room, again turning a deaf ear to Tanjiro calling his name. 

At that moment I felt a twitch in my eyelid again. 

“Are you serious?”

.

.

.

“Giyu-san! What's the matter, Giyu?”

That had the opposite effect and Tanjiro seemed strangely more determined to keep me company. 

“Giyu-san, what's the problem, are you on patrol?”

“It seems like there have been fewer demon sightings lately, right?”

He kept talking about everything and nothing at the same time all afternoon and evening.

“Giyu-san won't you join us for training?”

And the next morning, this other Giyu was woken up by Tanjiro's overly animated voice. He stayed the whole time at the Water Estate, refusing to leave my side for too long. 

“Everyone is waiting for you, Giyu-san!”

I could see how he wanted to escape from him, if only a little, covering his face with the futon and hiding his hermit-like expression. A laugh escaped my throat at the sight of him.  

Tanjiro was just sitting behind the shoji doors to continue talking to me even though I was doing my best to make him understand that I didn't want to.  

“Giyu-san!”

Tanjiro would follow me everywhere. 

“Giyu-san!”

At breakfast –which, to my relief, Giyu made for the both of them in spite of everything–Tanjiro had moved the floor table to his side, too close together, just like the day before. 

“Giyu-san!”

In the afternoon, he joined him as he meditated in that room and seemed to take advantage of the time to spar a bit by sitting on the floor. Simply holding the crutch he's been using and swinging it up and down in the air. 

And just like the day before, he had a smile on his face.  

“Giyu-san!”

As night fell, Giyu locked himself in the bathroom with the intention of taking a shower and being alone, but to my astonishment and my double's horror, Tanjiro found a way to tag along; hanging onto the wooden railings of the small window that let the hot steam out and ventilate the room. His face peered through it, still just as smiling. 

Seeing me with such a marked expression of dread, avoiding turning around and with the faintest blush on my cheeks, caused me to hunch in on myself, cackling again. 

I was delighted, to say the least.

“Giyu-san!”

He really kept talking and talking, just like when I went to visit him at the Butterfly Estate. So, I thought this Giyu must be a bit used to him like that, but I guess the whole context and the conversation he was running away from was what made it totally different.  

And Giyu knew he was lost, when coming out of the bathroom the next day, he met Tanjiro again. Tanjiro and his immutable smile that shone like the sun. 

I, on the other hand, as hilarious as I find it to see myself in this situation, was mesmerized, actually, by how Tanjiro kept bringing up topics of everything, just to get me to join the conversation. Just for a response, like when the body swapping had started between us.

With that beautiful smile of his and his infectious energy that finally, to no one's surprise, stuck with me. 

And I had never wished for anything more in my life, that... he would be talking to me, instead of that other Giyu who was sneaking around, mouth shut, locking himself in a room and behaving like I would have months ago. 

But that he was doing it with me, the Giyu who was sitting next to him all the time, listening with a dazed smile and his heart in his mouth. The Giyu who was happy to have this little chance to be with him, again. 

The Giyu who had gone to heaven and beyond and would even go further, just to meet him and see him and remember him and tell him how much I love him. 

But... that was not the case. 

He was talking to him. And I didn't understand. I didn't understand why it took so much effort to help someone who clearly avoids that altogether. It's a useless task.  

But Tanjiro does it. 

He stays and keeps trying and... I don't get it. 

Not now, and not when my Tanjiro did the same with me, being in my body and cooking those...silly meals for me and I took for granted to try them again. 

.

.

.

Something that... we can have back?

Is he… going to keep this up for the rest of my life? 

If I talk to him, will he stop following me everywhere?

“Oh, I really hope not.”

It was on the fourth day of having Tanjiro glued to him and following him around like a duckling everywhere, when Giyu finally gave in. 

We were on a bridge, patrolling the area again, when we heard this other Giyu stop and let out an exaggeratedly heavy, shoulder-dropping sigh.    

Then he speaks. 

“I... never passed the Final Selection.”

“You mean the trial on the mountain with wisteria flowers?”

“That's right.”

I was standing in the middle of them and as I listened to him my gaze lingered on Giyu's back, on how his shoulders tense and how his posture is pulled back. 

“That year along with a boy whose family had also been killed by demons...”

“His name was Sabito...”

“Sabito...?”

A bad feeling settles in my chest. A bad taste in my mouth at the way he tells what he was like. There is something in his voice that drags a melancholic touch. 

“I was 13 years old. We were the same age and all alone in this world, so we soon became friends.”

Something strange starts to happen then. Inside my head, like that strange movie I dreamed of as a child, scenes begin to pass; images in sequence in front of my eyes.  

A couple of kids sharing onigiris sitting on a fallen log in the forest. One with peach-colored hair and gentle eyes, the other with jet-black hair like the night and eyes...sparkling.  

His memories. What he experienced with Sabito and what he recalls the more he talks. And just as I hear his thoughts, I can see his memories, as if they were my own.  

I can't help but remember how I met Sabito myself: that day, when I was also 13 years old and too awkward to talk to the other kids in my class. When an overly energetic kid slammed a Game Boy on my desk and practically demanded that I play with him. 

It's so different, and at the same time, there's a familiar air to both memories. In its essence. 

I don't know. I can't explain it. 

“The only one who died during that years selection…was Sabito ”  

That's when I feel as, literally, the air is knocked out of me by a heartbeat. My pupils constrict and a strained grimace of disbelief forms on my face. My heart drops in a torrent only to crash into my stomach. 

“Sabito...is dead?”

Heavy. Heavy. 

Heavy and shattering.

Emotions. Memories. Chest closing against the suffocating weight of grief. His grief. Pulling me into it, as if it somehow also belonged to me and merged with my own disbelief. 

The film continues. The narrative slipped from this Giyu's lips like sand, without holding it back or stopping it.   

“He'd killed every demon on that mountain almost single-handedly.” 

A past filled with admiration for Sabito, for his abilities; his strength and his impassive character. 

“I was… wounded by the first demon that attacked me, and was in a daze.”

A past filled with shame and sorrow, towards his own ineptitude; his weakness and the unfairness of the situation. 

“At that moment too, it was Sabito who saved me.”

Again, I think of my own Sabito, of what I have lived with him. We have had a completely normal life, which is nothing like what I am seeing in this Giyu's memories. Sabito hasn't rescued me or anything, maybe just from becoming a total social loser, but it's not as extraordinary as avoiding being eaten.  

We've just been two kids whose biggest concern is currently being college. Not the hell or the latent fear that this might be their last day.

They are two opposite situations. Extremes too far apart.  

It's really unfair. 

   “But as I'd failed to defeat a single demon and had only been saved by another, could you really say that I’d passed?” 

It's too much.  

I don't know where this Giyu's emotions end and mine begin. Sadness. Regret. Shame. Surprise. Restlessness. Anger. Guilt. Guilt. guilt, guilt, guilt, guilt, guilt, guilt, guilt.

“I am not worthy to inherit the title of Pillar of Water.” 

I feel the tears on my cheeks before I rationalize the fact that I am in fact crying. It wasn't in the form of hiccups or sobs, it was just a silent, frustrated cry. Tears that just fell from my eyes, leaving a wet glow on the skin of my cheeks until they fell down the curve of my jaw. 

I couldn't tell when was the last time I cried. 

“Why am I the one crying, when the one who has suffered the most is you?”

Maybe I will do it for both of us. For someone whose tears have dried up, after all those shed in the past. 

“And for that matter, I'm not even worthy of standing as an equal with the other Pillars.”

I remember that meeting with the other Pillars, and how the same words had come out of his mouth, laden with such strong disdain that, at the time it had bothered me that I didn't know why.  

“I'll never manifest a mark.” 

But now I do, and it's more painful than I imagined. 

“Just forget about me from now on. You're only wasting your time.” 

Giyu starts to walk away then. Heavy, strangely measured footsteps. Stiff shoulders and clenched fists. 

I want to turn and look at Tanjiro. To see if he himself is as affected by this as I am. To see if that beautiful empathy that characterizes him has made him cry just as much as me or even more. But I can't. My gaze doesn't leave myself and the suffocating darkness I keep sinking into. 

The very idea and the reality he has lived is something I don't quite understand. I feel too stunned to understand or even empathize with all that he has lived through. I can't quite put myself in his shoes. 

The belief that it would have been better to die in his place. That that loved one would survive in his place and not die before him; and if on top of it all he would die protecting him.

I don't get it. 

And I honestly don't know if I want to at all.

It's too much. 

From one moment to the next the memories overwhelm me. One by one, each situation he has lived through, each painful and traumatic moment comes into my head leaving me dazed and dizzy. It's suffocating. My throat closes up. For a moment I can't breathe.

My gaze travels to my open hands in front of me; they tremble, blurry and distant no matter how hard I try to focus on them. 

Tsutako-

Mom and Dad- 

Sabito-

All dead before my eyes at the hands of demons. 

All protecting me while I am unable to do anything. 

No–

I look back at myself, at my own back, walking away in slow motion. I don't know if it's been just a few steps or if it's been miles away. I can't tell. 

Wait–

Maybe it's the jacket that's tight or it's my own chest that feels tight. Too tight, leaving me breathing fast and shallow. 

Wait–

I feel my heart beating in my ears. A steady drumming as I tighten the fabric of my jacket and lean forward slightly, shrinking into myself and my own panic. 

Maybe it's this other Giyu's heart, or maybe it's both of ours. Synchronizing in a sick cacophony of repressed emotions from the past.    

His memories?

His pain?

No.

My memories?

My pain?

It's too much. 

Wait–

.

.

.

Then there is a momentary flash of red that passes in front of me. 

Softly, like strings swaying in the autumn wind, causing me to look up and search through the tears held back in my eyelids.

The thread. That little reddish string that has been tied to my pinky all this time, suddenly begins to snake through the air in front of me. Pulling at my hand again, drawing attention to itself. Bringing my mind back to the moment. 

I follow it with my eyes as I look around, and there's Tanjiro. 

The emotional turmoil stops; the pressure in my chest evaporates and I can breathe better, because he is there. 

Who is also, as I guessed, crying. His brow is furrowed in empathy and his eyes glow like the fire of understanding. 

And for a moment it seems that he is looking at me, that everything reflected in his face is directed at me; so much so that when he finally walks forward, propelling himself with the crutch, I immediately and almost reflexively do so as well. 

I reach out with my hand.

“Giyu-san!”

“Giyu-san, doesn't that thing Sabito left you keep you together…”

“What...?”

“...in this life?”

Maybe it blows a gust of wind, but I'm not sure.

Maybe this other Giyu has stopped walking behind me, but I'm not sure. 

Maybe my hand reaches up to my face, but I'm not sure. 

“Don't ever say you should have died again!”

“Next time you say it, you and I are through! I won't be your friend anymore!”

The only thing I can focus on now is the feeling those words left behind. 

In this life... 

A feeling of deja vu.

Of having experienced this before. 

Having seen it, felt it. 

“You, of all people, shouldn't be insulting your sister's memory!”

“...neither in this life nor in the next one!”

.

.

.

It hurts...

The shock and pain that I felt when he struck me across the face, is coming now to me so vividly.  

Why did I forget that conversation with Sabito?

When it's important. 

“Tanjiro , sorry to keep you waiting, but I'm going to go train too.”

.

.

.

Oh.

The scene stopped, or maybe it's already over. I didn't notice when it finally froze, pausing again like a movie. I'm just stuck standing on the floor with my eyes fixed on the cord in my hand. 

And it's just, stupid, really, how after wandering for what seemed like an eternity, just watching this tedious fantasy theater, the revelation of what this was all about comes to me as smoothly as the blink of an eye.

“This... is my life.”

Kind of obvious, now that I think about it, and I can't help but feel like an idiot for taking so long to realize it.

When I blink a couple of times, snapping out of the stupor of my stupidity, I realize it's all gone. The bridge; me; Tanjiro. I'm back in this empty space, but compared to the first time I woke up here, everything around me is white-an ethereal white fog. The atmosphere still has that strange combination of heavy and enveloping and light and sparse, all at the same time.

And now I'm alone with the thread, just as red and glowing. It no longer moves. It no longer meanders, almost as if it has heard what I have said and it had surprised it. Almost with an expectant air inside. 

I stare at it. I look at the knot that holds it to the base of my pinky and the glow that reflects and tightens on my skin.

“This is my life, isn't it?”

The question is out of my mouth before I can contain myself. I feel as if it somehow hears me, or as if someone does through it, and can answer me the same way. 

There is a whisper of words previously told in my ear. A story. A tale. Word by word spoken from memory, and they come accompanied by leaves falling from the trees, washed downstream along the path that skirts the mountain.

That local guardian. That union. 

Ties intertwined. A part of the god. What represents the lives of the people. 

It's something I asked for, isn't it?

Before drinking the sake, almost as a prayer, I asked for help to remember Tanjiro, not knowing that it went much deeper than just his name. 

And that's what he has done so far. Showing me what it is and what it was. 

The ties to my past life. 

“Musubi... this is who you are.”

And that's when it happens. 

In response, the reddish glow grows, expanding rapidly and suddenly until it blinds me for a second, forcing me to close my eyes. 

When the glow disappears, I find myself surrounded by images, noises and sensations; everything I have already experienced in the past. What I lived.

My memories. The ones I saw at the beginning of the journey. The ones I haven't seen yet. All fitting into a metaphorical timeline that expands on the horizon next to the red thread. 

“Giyu-san, wanna take me on in a cold soba noodle speed eating contest?”

“Why....?”

“You say that I have to take part in the training if I lose this match, but does that mean I don't have to if I win?”

“I'm calling it quits after this tray. In other words if you eat that extra order, you'll have defeated me.”

“Yes! That would make me happy!”

Just like a gallery in the Art Center. An exhibition of photographs called `Nostalgia' of which I am the protagonist. 

“I... had already lived before.”

 In these memories, in each of them, there is Tanjiro.

“Giyu-san, you are so full of tenderness.”

“Tanjiro, wanna go eat some simmered salmon with daikon?”

“D-do you mean that?”

“But no racing”

“I-I'd love to join you!”

That's the life I lived with him. With him and with the rest of my comrades. 

“I've already been someone before.”

“Hey, come on, what's wrong?!”

“I thought you weren't like the rest of us?!” 

“Hold on! You can't kill each other!”

“Sanemi, do you like rice cakes?”

“Don't bother. Morons.”

Where I also was Giyu Tomioka. 

“Nee, Tomioka-San, have you ever been in love?”

“I'm not sure.”

“You know, when someone loves something, it glows. That's why people fall in love so irrationally.”

“You're in love now, aren't you Giyu?” 

Where I was a demon slayer. 

“The moon looks beautiful tonight, don't you think Giyu?”

“It's small, I can hardly see it.”

“The moon is beautiful no matter how it looks.”

The reserved and socially awkward Water Pillar. 

“Thank you for being so kind to me!” 

“Thank you... for being with me.”

Where I saw too many people die in front of my eyes. 

“Oyakata-sama!”

“The mansion!”

“Tanjiro!”

Where I did everything I could to protect them too. 

Tanjiro, your techniques have improved so much. It's no joke to say that your power equals that of a Pillar. 

“The Water Pillar? It's been 50 years since I've faced anyone good.” 

“Give me your name! I want to remember you!” 

“And I've already met you before!”

Where I watched you grow and was able to fight by your side. 

“Giyu-san!”

“Now I'm angry.”

“Don't die like Kyoujurou and Tanjiro, Become a demon, Giyu!”

Where I was too dumb to realize how I felt about you. 

“TANJIRO!”

“Hold it. I...am still...alive here!” 

“If you want to kill Tanjiro, you'll have to kill me first!”

I'll protect you. 

I'll protect you, Tanjiro. 

Just as you would have done for me.

And in spite of that, I did. I fell in love with you and feared losing you. 

“Kamado Tanjiro is already dead.”

N-no...

“I've already loved you before!”

“Murata!”

“Tanjiro can't move, please treat his wounds in a safe place!”

“P-but-”

“PLEASE!”

I'm walking, following the thread. Following this route along my memories, with my heart in my throat and my hands shaking. I feel it all and all at once.  Chaotic emotions squeezing my chest, but somehow it's not bad. More like overwhelming. 

Sensations. 

The smell of wisteria. The rough feeling of calluses on the palms of my hands. The hardness of the katana hilt. The smell of incense. The taste of blood in my mouth. The calmness of the water's breath. The taste of black tea. The air entering my lungs. The burning of my muscles. The edge of the katana blades. The sweat on my temples. 

The feel of your hair between my fingers. The sound of your laughter. 

Tears have slipped down my cheeks again. I can't stop them. My heart beats inside my chest and pushes them out. For everything and for you. For how much my soul loves you. 

Because my mind may have forgotten you and my heart stopped beating, but my soul was still with you. 

.

.

.

“Oh, Giyu...”

Then my breath hitched, my heartbeat skipped, and I almost tripped over my own feet. 

At some point, that once snow-white fog began to darken again. It becomes more dense and enveloping. My memories, these photographs, are lost behind it in the distance. I see them again like an old blurred film. They do so along with the reddish thread. 

Out of it all Tanjiro's voice emerges. Disembodied, distant, and at the same time present, close - just as I dreamed it the night before I left for the mountain. 

“There it is...!”

That memory. 

“It makes me...so happy...to have met you.”

He sounds just as exhausted, as if he's making a great effort to talk to me. Even like he's about to cry. His voice sad and trembling, but also warm and full of love, just like the glow of distant stars, he confesses words that shake me once again.

“That memory!”

What remains hidden in the haze of my head and in the puzzle of my memories. 

The end of the thread. 

I want to run. I want to move when a huge, suffocating despair squeezes my chest. I feel infected by everything Tanjiro's voice emanates and I am seized by an insane desire to get closer to it, to him, who is behind all that mist. 

But no matter how much I move and struggle to move towards it, I can't. I can't move from where I am. I can't move forward from where I stand. My legs run but don't move further; my arms reach out but don't grasp anything. 

“Why-?”

Then I realize, to my horror, that I am sinking. 

What was once a relatively stable surface on which I could stand with ease has begun to shift, becoming an amorphous mass. Like quicksand.

I try to pull myself out of it, but it's no use. It covers my ankles, my knees, and my waist. The more desperately I struggle to escape it, the faster I sink into the sand. 

“Please, I need-!”

The thread continues to snake over me. Again watching, but this time there's something else. It's as if it's finally pushing me out. Like there's something it doesn't want to show me. That it can't show me.

The fine print of the contract. An aside for something I myself must remember. 

“Wait, not yet!”

And the fact that I don't know what it should be, eats away inside me. 

The sand gets to my chest; to my neck. 

And the last thing I hear before I finally sink is Tanjiro saying a few last words. A last confession, sincere and full of emotions. Of reciprocal feelings. 

“Because...from the bottom of my heart.... I.... love you Giyu.”

Falling forever.

Or maybe rising. 

In the midst of this indistinct sensation, I can't tell if everything around me is water or air. Maybe it's seafoam, maybe it's clouds. Maybe it's air bubbles tickling my face. 

Among all that, there is the thread. Long and red. Winding with force and abruptness. Almost like unraveling the yarn in the muradai. It expands in the distance until it becomes the comet shining in the night sky.

Without warning, it splits and half of it falls in a plummet.

The meteorite hits a village in the mountains. Many people were killed. A crater is formed; a lake is formed and the village is destroyed.

Time passes and another village grows up around it. The lake provides fish and the celestial iron provides wealth. The village prospers. Years pass and the comet appears again. Once again, the star falls. Once again, people die. The same fairy tale. The same story and its unhappy ending. 

This has happened twice since people settled in these lands.

People tried to remember it. They tried to pass on the knowledge to future generations, using methods that would survive the letters. The comet as a dragon. The comet as braided strings. The comet fracturing like the gestures of a dance. 

The dance of a god. The dance of fire. 

Once again, the years pass, the centuries.

I hear a baby crying. There is a woman in a hospital bed. Her face is kind. Her eyes are a dark purple, and next to her lips there is a small mole that highlights her smile.

She does it towards a baby while holding his hand. The soft voice of a mother.

"Your name is Tanjiro."

Time passes, the baby grows. With red eyes full of innocence and hair like fire. A small family, surrounded by tradition, standing in front of a temple. The father has an equally gentle look and smile; he wears the temple costume, the traditional woven haori with flame designs and the white hakama underneath. In his hand, he holds a staff with bells that clash and jingle.

"You are both my treasures."

The parents talk, sitting together in a low chair, the woman has her back resting on her husband's chest, when her little two-year-old son comes staggering in and falls into his mother's lap, laughing. She smiles and caresses her bulging belly again. The father extends his arm to caress the child's messy hair.

"You're a big brother now"

Shortly after, Tanjiro's little sister is born. Black hair like her mother's and eyes as pink as cotton candy.

Years pass and someone else joins the family. A tall man, similar to the father of the family in many ways, the only thing that differentiates him is his long, reddish-black hair and sharp, almond-shaped, carmine-red eyes. His twin brother, who has returned from studying in Tokyo.

They welcome him warmly and he smiles gently in the same way.

"Your son looks too much like you."

"And isn't that a good thing, brother?"

The father takes over the temple. He wears those annoying earrings all the time and does so with pride. More than once he invites his twin brother to be a part of it, but he always receives a resounding rejection. He never knew the reason for it.

Life goes on quietly, but it is common for fate to be unfair, and often puts a price to pay for the happiness of the moment.

“There has been a robbery at the temple, Kie and I must go immediately. Yoriichi, could you take care of the children for us?”

“Is it really necessary for you to go?”

“You know very well that it is, dear brother.”

The answer was innocent, and said with a smile, but for the twin brother it only increased his bad feeling. The parents say goodbye to their children, 15 and 13 years old, equally affectionately before leaving for the temple.

And on the way to this, a drunk driver who should not have been behind the wheel, lost control of his own car, crashing squarely into the parents' car. Taking their lives forever in the process.

There is a funeral. Two urns filled with ashes are carried in a procession by their relatives. The twin brother holds them and has a deeply hurt expression on his face. The children walk behind him, both crying bitterly.

Everyone dies. It is inevitable, but it is not easy to accept.

The twin brother is holding something in his hands. A small wooden flute wrapped in a cloth bag. The carving is crude and looks uneven, but to him it seems like the most precious thing in the world.

The twin brother is suffering deeply. The bond that existed between them was too strong and he feels that a part of him left in that accident. It is both a blessing and a curse that, as he grows up, the son becomes more and more like his father.

"If it wasn't that important why couldn't it wait until the next day!"

“It was for Tanjuro and you know it!”

Maybe it is months, or maybe years, but the relationship between the twin brother and the grandfather is getting worse.

"Yeah, well, look what taking charge of the temple took him to..."

“What are you saying!”

“That the temple is cursed, father, that's what I'm saying!”

The twin brother and grandfather argue more and more every day. Everything reaches its breaking point when, one night with the children at home, surrounded by incense, with those annoying earrings resting on a small table, separating the two kneeling on the tatami, Urokodaki says the one thing that drives him completely out of his mind.  

“You're in charge now, Yoriichi, whether you want to be or not.” 

What follows is an accident. The twin brother, frustrated and annoyed, stands up quickly and abruptly, knocking the table over with his body and throwing the earrings away until they land near the door. There, Tanjiro hides while listening with a hand over his mouth and tears in his eyes.  

“I loved my brother, not the Kamado shrine or that fucking sun god dance!”

“I am not wearing those earrings,"

“Leave then!”

Both twin brother and grandfather are too old to change their priorities. Yoriichi can't stand it and leaves, walking past his father. He sees Tanjiro as he leaves the room and for a moment his expression changes from anger to guilt, but it's too late and he just walks away. 

“Tanjiro, Nezuko, you'll live with Grandpa from now on.”

Grandpa hands Tanjiro those earrings. He looks at them doubtfully and then receives an answer, accompanied by a melancholy smile. 

“Tanjiro, now it's your turn”

That for some reason makes Tanjiro break out in a cold sweat. 

In a house that echoes with the clacking of loom rods, the grandchildren and grandfather begin their life together.

The days are fairly quiet. Still, the feeling that their uncle has abandoned them becomes an indelible stain inside Tanjiro.

“These are...Tanjiro's memories?”

I had witnessed the past before. I had recovered my memories. My past with Tanjiro. That of an extremely distant and painful life, but now, all I see, all that unfolds in front of my eyes is the present. Tanjiro's life in this present. As if helplessly swept along by a torrent overflowing in the storm, I experience Tanjiro's time.

I see his friends again; his teachers; those fairytale landscapes of Itomori. And the red thread, ever present and meandering around these bubbles of memories and mental gaps. 

Then come the days I already know, the days where we swap bodies and live as each other.

Seen through the eyes of Tanjiro, who spent his whole life chained to the temple and feeling locked in, Tokyo shines like an exotic foreign country. 

Although we share the same sensations, it is as if we see completely different worlds.

There is the notebook in which I left my first notes and my doubts when this whole circus had started. That question written in the center of the page. The kanji scribbled in black marker.

“Who am I? No, who are you?”

That time when Tanjiro wrote me an outraged answer on his own face. Now I see him with flushed cheeks, a frown and the tip of the marker sliding over the skin of his face. 

You don't even smile so don't be so full of yourself!

Not like YOU have a partner! 

There's finally that day of my date with Sabito months ago. 

A date with Sabito-kun tomorrow! 

Meet at 10:30 a.m. at the station! 

His posture on the futon is surrendered, he's still, looking only at the shoji doors and the blurred reflection of the outside on them; and his voice is too soft when I hear him mutter. 

“It was what I'd planned, but…”

Tanjiro is in front of the mirror finishing getting ready to go to class; his expression is thoughtful and he hasn't realized that he has started to cry. 

“He is so lucky”

“They must be together around now”

“I... why…?”

He is looking at something in the mirror. I don't know what it is but that upsets him to the point of shrinking in pain holding that scar on his forehead. Tanjiro loses his balance. He staggers and his feet get tangled as he tries to steady himself and grab hold of something, but all he manages to do is slip and take the mirror with him.

The clatter of glass shattering alerts Nezuko, who after a few seconds appears stumbling through the sliding door of the room.

“Tanjiro!”

“Nezuko...?”

...

“He.... promised...”

...

“And I... I set him up with someone else!” 

“I lost him Nezuko!”

...

I can't make out much of what he says, as if the scene is cut off by static that warps his words and doesn't let me hear the conversation completely. When the scene comes back to itself, I only see Tanjiro crying in his sister's arms and Urokodaki-san coming into the room agitated. 

That night, Tanjiro enters one of the rooms on the first floor of the house where Grandpa was reading. He hesitated for a second. His hand fiddled with one of his earrings as a habit in the face of his nervousness.

“Grandpa.”

“Can we talk?”

Tanjiro is sitting in front of his grandfather and with trembling hands and tear-filled eyes, he takes both earrings out of his ears. He doesn't look him in the eye when he finally sets them down on the floor between them. 

“I...I'm so sorry.”

He leans forward until his head is touching the ground between his hands, bowing and apologizing deeply. 

“I don't want to take over the temple.”

“I know it was your wish to continue my father's will, but it's not mine.”

“I'm a bad grandson...”

But instead of getting upset, Urokodaki-san removes the red mask carefully and with a hoarse but calm voice makes him straighten up again. As soon as Tanjiro does so, he is wrapped in a tight hug that makes him finally break down in tears once again.  

“It's fine.”

“I'm sorry for putting this burden on your shoulders.”

Tanjiro is sitting on the floor of his room, 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.  

“Tanjiro, who’s-”  

Nezuko is sitting next to him, hugging him when a phone ringing starts to be heard near them, breaking the comfortable and familiar atmosphere that both siblings shared. She looks at him as he answers the call.

"What? The festival?".... Yeah, the comet. Today is the peak of its brightness, isn't it?"

“No...”

Tanjiro is finishing putting on the yukata. A yukata of the same green and black checkered print. 

A feeling of horror comes over me at the significance of what is happening. They are about to leave for the festival. 

“Tanjiro! Don't stay there!!”

I'm almost shouting. 

“Tanjiro, get out of there before the comet strikes!”

Shouting from behind one of the windows. In the chiming of the wind chimes. Like the wind ruffling his hair as he left the house with his sister.

“Tanjiro get out of there!”

But my voice doesn't reach. He doesn't notice me.

«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. » 

 Tanjiro and his friends watch it, closer than the moon now.

“Tanjiro!”

Its fragments glow, turning into countless shooting stars. A huge rock fragment turns into a meteor and begins to fall.

Even then, contemplating it, his only thought is, “It's beautiful.”

“Tanjiro!”

I shout at the top of my lungs.

“TANJIRO!”

«Only the stars falling from the sky. »

Chapter Text

The first thing he sees , the first thing that is there , as soon as Giyu opens his eyes again, is the ceiling in Tanjiro's room.  

That ceiling he saw so many times a month ago. Brown boards worn down by the passage of time. That white ceiling lamp hanging from the middle with that long white cord. That which he saw when he woke up after switching bodies with Tanjiro. 

In that instant, Giyu knows with certainty. 

He straightens up abruptly until he sits on the futon and looks at his lap; his hands in front of him; how the blanket slips and retracts at his waist; how the sun shines and sneaks into the room through the shoji doors beside him; how his nose fills with the warm, enveloping scent of the warm fabric. 

Like the smell of the sun. Like the smell of Tanjiro.  

“Tanjiro...” the words escape, that voice too. “He's alive...”  

This throat, his blood, his flesh, his skin. Tanjiro– it's Taniiro and he's right here. 

Alive.

He feels himself shaking, euphoria gushing up from his chest to his fingertips. He wraps his arms around his body, hugging himself before he even thinks about it. He shrinks forward, almost seeking more closeness with Tanjiro's body. He feels the sting of tears as they are shed. Tear drops falling relentlessly from Tanjiro's eyes, like a waterfall or a broken faucet. 

Tanjiro's warmth. From his body that brings him his own joy and only makes him cry more, laugh and let out a choked sob of full happiness getting stronger and stronger. Inside his chest, inside his ribs, a heart that beats and leaps and is alive. 

Alive. Tanjiro is alive.  

His knees have bent, his cheeks press against his kneecaps and Giyu curls up, seeking to be as small as possible. Seeking to wrap his whole body in his arms. 

Tanjiro.

Tanjiro. Tanjiro.

Giyu stays there for a moment, repeating his name between shaky smiles, letting himself be enveloped by the feeling of warmth and utter relief he feels from being here. 

After all that and having crossed space and time. After begging to remember him. A miracle that could have been denied to him forever, but that slipped through all the possibilities of being here. 

Something he didn't deserve, but was given nonetheless. 

A second chance. 

 He doesn't hear the footsteps approaching the door. Nor how Nezuko's voice rises through the morning silence as she slides it open.  

“Tanjiro, I have to leave first, are you going to be ok-” But whatever she was saying is cut off as soon as she sees her brother's body, hunched in on himself and his shoulders shaking. “Tanjiro!” 

Giyu finally straightens up at the girl's alarmed voice as well as feeling her kneel beside him. He looks at her through unfocused eyes and wet lashes; Nezuko looks worried and is holding his shoulders with trembling hands. Right, he supposes that to her he must look to be in some kind of pain and not extremely happy as he actually is. 

“Nezuko...” his voice comes out in a soft murmur as he utters her name. Giyu blinks, focusing his gaze, rationalizing that she is indeed in front of him.

She is right there.  

Human. Healthy. Alive.

“Brother, are–you okay?” she seems to be holding in her own concern when insisting, though in her eyes is an anxiety present that darkens the pink of her irises noticeably. Giyu doesn't like to see her this way. “Do you need me to–go get Grandpa?”

He feels his lower lip tremble, because this is actually fucking happening. Everyone is alive and he's in Tanjiro's body. 

Giyu brings his hands up to clasp Nezuko's on his shoulders, stopping her when he feels she wants to get up, and gives them a slight reassuring squeeze. She loosens her grip a little and the frown on her face relaxes as a smile breaks on his face, wide and bright, before answering with a small sob that chokes out his words, “I'm fine, I'm just– I'm just happy to see you.” 

Nezuko stares at him, now stunned at the expression of pure joy overflowing all over her brother's tear and snot stained face. Unlike yesterday, all the dull, almost depressing air that surrounded him has nearly completely disappeared. 

She hesitates for a moment, unsure of the change, but seeing the confidence shining in Tanjiro's expressive eyes, and directed towards her, she decides to accept it and, surrendering, gives back a shaky smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes and answers. 

“I...am happy to see you too?”

Nezuko walks into the dining room, where her grandfather is kneeling on the tatami sipping tea, letting in the October morning air through the open doors. He looks up as she settles the weight of her backpack on her shoulders letting out a heavy sigh before speaking.  

“I have... I have to go over and explain why I didn't show up to the club yesterday, so I'll be leaving first. Tanjiro...” she comments, then hesitates for a moment whether or not to continue, turning her face to look over her shoulder at the stairs to the second floor, “Tanjiro shouldn't take long coming down.” 

Her brother had assured her that he would be going to class today; for her not to worry about him, as he was fine. Like all the times throughout the month, he didn't seem to remember what had happened the day before and Nezuko doesn't know what to think about it, especially considering that meltdown that drained him emotionally. 

The last thing she wants is to think that, after that, he had finally reached his limit, if he had finally collapsed and was now completely broken. 

Nezuko knows him –or did anyway– but there's something deeply unsettling; something that won't leave her alone and she has this insane desire to fix it. To make all the pain go away and bring back her laughing, “Never give up!” kind of brother, but it's frustrating and painful to realize all the emotional burden Tanjiro has been carrying since who-knows-how-long. Burden she had no idea about. 

She always admired her older brother. His perseverance and positivity. His way of doing what is right and what is fair. His way of loving people and seeing the kindness in everything. Nezuko knew that he always put other people above himself, but the slap of reality she received yesterday when she saw him finally crumble in her arms; seeing him cry as he had not done so many times in the past, was too much.

It made her heart drop into her stomach and make her realize that this image she had, this pedestal to aspire to that Tanjiro was on, was built on nothing but strength and anxiety. Stress and courage. Love and sadness. And pain, so much pain. 

Nezuko feels the stinging in her eyes again and the knot wanting to form at the thought of how much her brother has been suffering in silence for so long. Looking out only for the sake of the family's well being. The sake of those he loves. 

It's a hard pill to swallow, but... there is still so much she doesn't know about Tanjiro. So much of what has happened over the past month. So many strange attitudes and impulsive actions. Personality changes and memory loss. 

«Do you think it's because of someone who broke his heart?»

Maybe...maybe Zenitsu is right and someone finally broke that big heart that  Tanjiro has, making him change like that. She hopes it's really not that way. Tanjiro doesn't deserve that. He doesn't deserve to suffer like that. Not for his family. Not for anyone. 

Nezuko lets out a sharp breath and swallows the bad taste in her mouth as she finishes closing the front door. She counts to three waiting for the pinch between her eyebrows to disappear and concentrates on the warmth of the sun on her skin. 

She gets ready to walk to the small gate and go to school, now with only one question drilling in her head at the fresh memory of the previous morning and Tanjiro's words.  

Who the fuck is Giyu? 

Giyu had just come downstairs after putting on Tanjiro's school uniform just a moment ago; with those pants in that nasty brown color and the ironed white shirt. It's been a while since he last wore them and was enveloped by Tanjiro's scent, but he still welcomed the feeling and the weight of those clothes on his body with delight. 

Now Giyu stands tall and strong in front of the television in the dining room next to the kitchen, attentively listening to the words of both female hosts and the headline written at the bottom of the screen. Behind them is a slightly pixelated picture and the name 'Comet Tiamat' written in white letters. 

They are chattering happily, curving around a little to point at the comet: “Comet Tiamat had been visible to the naked eye for a few days now” 

Tomioka had heard those words before; as a background noise to fill in the breakfast silence, but hadn't paid enough attention to it, or even turned to watch the newscast for more than three seconds. 

“Tonight it will finally reach its perigee around 7:40 p.m. and will achieve it maximum brightness–” 

He does so now. Knowing everything that happened –that will happen– having in front of him the comet that is going to be the cause of such a huge and immediate tragedy, Tomioka feels himself shaking, nervous and agitated. 

“It's tonight. There's still time” Giyu mumbles through his teeth, both hands tightly on his hips and a determined pinch between his eyebrows. 

“Good morning Tanjiro–” 

Giyu turns around quickly with surprise, having not noticed the person entering the dining room behind him. He does and Urokodaki is standing there. He holds a tray with a small teapot of hot water, a jar of tea leaves and two colorful cups. He was probably going to use them for breakfast. 

He is still the same as last time; back straight and shoulders thick, with his usual light blue robe with cloud patterns, his hair tied up on the bottom of his head impeccably and his Tengu mask covering his face. Just like in the past. Just like in the present. 

“Urokodaki-san–” his name slips out without thought before he can shut up. The lump in his throat returns at the relief of seeing him too, his former teacher, alive in front of him after so long, but also at the fact that he definitely heard him not calling him like Tanjiro usually does. 

There is a heartbeat of silence in which Grandpa doesn't seem to react, and just looks at him. He can feel his eyes through the mask, and when Tomioka starts to worry, thinking that he had ruined it, he finally hears his raspy voice rise in the air. 

“You're not Tanjiro, are you?” 

Giyu skips a heartbeat and can't help the way his shoulders twitch slightly. An erratic feeling of guilt settles in his chest, perhaps over how he said it, or over having him fooled for so long; as if some crime he hoped would never come to light, has been exposed. He just purses his lips and furrows his brow even more, turning around to face him. His palms begin to sweat. 

“You...already knew?” The question stumbles out and Giyu feels afraid that all this time the man knew what was going on; that he was watching them jump around each other like a poorly written, half-written sitcom with a mediocre script. 

Because even if he doesn't remember him from his past life, Giyu wouldn't want to let him down; not now with his actions and that old attitude of his.    

“No, but your behavior lately brought back certain memories,” Urokodaki explains. There is no particular change in his behavior, and he just limits himself to finally kneeling down on the tatami and putting the tray down on the small table. 

Urokodaki pours the tea with parsimony and with a wave of his hand invites him to sit in the free space in front of it. Tomioka swallows hard and clenches his hands giving himself courage before walking, approaching the table. 

He kneels on the tatami, at the other side facing Urokodaki and is offered a cup of tea, steaming and thick-smelling. 

“When I was a kid I also had very strange dreams,” Urokodaki begins to relate, cradling the porcelain cup in his hands, “It was like watching a strange movie, where I was myself, but I had a very different life from this one.” 

“Even though I was myself, I lived differently and did different things, but I don't remember them very well now. Those memories of long ago, slowly fade away, being replaced now by new memories, a new life.”

There is a nostalgic air to the story although Giyu cannot see what kind of expression Urokodaki has on his face because of the mask. However, he listens to him attentively, just like that time on the mountain. 

“You... forget them too?” he can't help but ask, pushed by the familiarity of his words and how it's almost the same as what happened with him and surely with Tanjiro as well. 

“For the most part, though, I must say, there are things that one is never going to be able to forget.” he explains softly; he pauses for a second, only to then let out a hoarse chuckle, full of affection and reminiscence, and then speaks again. “After all, when you've spent a lifetime raising someone, it's hard to forget how they behave, even after so many years.” 

Almost in slow motion, Giyu watches as the man leaves the teacup untouched on the table. Then he brings his hands to the back of his head to pull the red cord that holds that mask over his face until he finally removes it completely. 

He lays it on his lap and Tomioka is able to see his face after so long, marked by the passage of time and the experience of a lifetime, but showing a smile that, although it does not lift his cheeks, is genuine and full of affection. An affection that radiates and extends to him. 

And Giyu doesn't know how to react to it. 

Because those words have left him petrified, every fiber of his being has stopped in surprise at the implication of those words, of what he may be saying, like an accomplice sharing a jealously guarded secret. Because, in a way, it is almost as if that man, his teacher and almost a father to him all those years ago, Sakonji Urokodaki remembers–

“Hello, Giyu”

Him.

Remembers him.  

His shoulders stiffen and the air almost chokes him as it enters his throat. Giyu feels his brow furrow and the bubble of nostalgia grow in his chest. The sting of tears returns to his eyes until he finally lets them out and they fall down his cheeks, leaving a shiny trail on his skin, but there are no sobs or uncontrollable crying.

“Urokodaki-san…” His name slips from his lips, his voice almost breaking under the weight of the emotions that overwhelm him.  

“It's been a while.” The smile does not falter, and his grave tone of voice is laden with nostalgic warmth. 

“You...how long have you…”

“Known?” Urokodaki interrupts him and lets out a laugh. “I had my suspicions for a while, as it wouldn’t be the first time this has happened in this family.” 

Urokodaki picks up the porcelain cup again and brings it to his face. He lets the thick steam caress his chin before taking a sip. Giyu does the same, finding contentment in how the heat of the tea flows down his throat. The tears then stop.

“But I knew when we returned from the Altar on the mountain. I could see you, Giyu, and you haven't changed at all.” The man lets out another hoarse laugh, and his good humour spreads to Tomioka, who now allows his lips to curve into a smile of his own. 

“Very strange things happen to this family. There was a time when my son Tanjuro went through similar situations as I did, but as I told you, so much time has passed that those memories have almost completely disappeared.”

“Disappeared…” Giyu savours the word as he repeats it and swallows hard. His heart skips a beat, as if he had been told the name of a disease he is destined to contract. 

Urokodaki is right. For a moment, Giyu forgot Tanjiro's name. 

He remembers it perfectly. That horrible feeling of realising how his name was disappearing from his mind; it moved swiftly before he could finish thinking about it or even hold on to it and stop it from escaping, leaving only a heavy void in its place. 

That desperation and utter dread. 

“Cherish the experience,” Urokodaki continues, drawing his attention back to the conversation, “No matter how special it is, a dream is a dream. It's sure to disappear one day, once you wake up.”  Urokodaki's wrinkled face has a touch of loneliness as he brings the teacup back to his mouth. 

Giyu doesn't like this at all, and his lips tighten because of it. He looks down and finds Tanjiro's reflection staring back at him from the tea in his hands. His brow tightens and a spark of dread rises in his chest. 

He has just gotten his memories back. He has just gotten Tanjiro back—he has just found him. 

He doesn't want to forget him. He doesn't want to feel like an important part of him is missing again. He doesn't want to live without Tanjiro again.

Is there really a chance that he'll wake up and everything will be gone and he won't know it? 

Won't they let them see each other face to face, even for a moment? 

No. No. No, no, no.

Giyu was terrified by that thought alone, but if what Urokodaki says is true, and everything will disappear when he wakes up, just as it did when he began his exchanges with Tanjiro, then...

Suddenly, something strikes him. An idea flashes before his eyes like a red light.

This... this could be useful to him. This whole generational tale has a role that is passed down through the Kamado family: the ability to communicate with someone living a few years in the future to escape the disaster that occurs every 1,200 years. Is that it? 

The role of the shrine. The role of a dance.  Something that the Kamado bloodline acquired at some point... a warning system passed down through generations.

To begin swapping bodies with a person and passing on the message, so that in the end everything is forgotten when it is done. 

Giyu lowers his arms; the still-steaming tea ripples slightly as it sloshes around in the cup he holds in his hands. He sets it down on the table and looks up at the joint between the ceiling and the wall. In that nearest corner hang several photographs of the Kamado family's ancestors. They all have the same frame, and the glass is slightly dirty with dust.

Tomioka notices that Tanjiro's parents are also there—a man with a gentle gaze and a woman with a warm smile. For a second, it seems as if they are looking specifically at him from up there. He feels a chill run down his spine. 

“What if... all those dreams the Kamados have had were related to today,” he begins, his gaze dropping once more to fall on Urokodaki, looking directly into his eyes. His voice trembles a little, but it is filled with a genuine conviction that leaves the old man surprised. 

“Urokodaki-san, you have to listen to me. Tonight, the comet is going to fall on Itomori–” Giyu almost chokes on his words. Involuntarily, his body leans forward, emphasising the seriousness of what he is saying. “Everyone is going to die!” 

“No one will believe that.” 

Urokodaki-san's words repeat themselves over and over in his head as he runs up the hill. The fresh memory of how his eyebrows had furrowed in unmistakable disbelief and his lips had curved slightly downward.  

Giyu did not expect those words from his mentor, because he does believe in the strange body swap and remembers him from his past life, so why would he not believe in the premonition that the comet will fall on Itomori? 

What sense of balance does that make?

It's confusing and makes him curse out loud, running out of breath a moment later. Giyu can see the town's school coming into view at the top of the street. The fences that will one day be covered with police tape and the poles with loudspeakers that will remain silent forever. Like all the people in town if he doesn't do something. 

It doesn't matter, I'm not going to let everyone die!

He emphasises the words in his head, as if hammering out an important resolution that makes him run even faster. 

There's less than half a day left before the comet hits.

It's fucking late when he finally sets foot in the schoolyard. There's hardly anyone around, and only the pheasants echo in the quiet morning, along with his heavy breathing from the strain. Tomioka feels the sweat on the back of his neck and is already uncomfortable in the uniform, but he keeps moving until he– barely– reaches his classroom. 

He leans against the doorframe for a second, catching his breath, but it's enough for Zenitsu and Inosuke to materialise in thin air in front of him out of nowhere– or maybe they just came over as soon as they saw Tanjiro's red hair come into view. 

“Tanjiro!” Zenitsu almost cries out the name as he grabs him by the shoulders and shakes him lightly, “Are you okay?! What happened to you yesterday?! You sounded terrible when we talked on the phone!” 

The questions and urgency in his voice make him dizzy, but Giyu doesn't pull away. Zenitsu then stops his crocodile tears and looks at him in surprise—more specifically, at what is dangling from his ears: WYou're... you're wearing your earrings…”, he says, almost in disbelief. 

One of his hands involuntarily reaches up to touch the edge of Tanjiro's Hanafuda earrings. The ones that had appeared in the hotel magazine when he was talking to Sabito. He can't help but think of the last thing Urokodaki-san said to him before leaving the house. 

“Tanjiro thinks they're a burden, but if anyone can convince him otherwise, I know it's you.” 

He had said, as an unspoken request, placing them in his hands. For some reason, they no longer felt as heavy as they had in the past. Then he looked at him sternly. 

“You'd better take care of him.” 

Giyu wants to smile at that and at the warning tone in his master's voice at that moment. He doesn't have to ask him twice. That's what he plans to do, for the rest of their lives. 

He shakes his head, coming out of his thoughts, and the tickling of the earrings is there with the movement. 

“That doesn't matter now!” he replies to Zenitsu, who has been scrutinising him all this time. Tomioka puts his hands on his hips and his gaze rests on the empty space between the two boys in front of him. “If nothing is done, everyone will die tonight!”  

The buzzing in the classroom stops. The voices fall silent and the atmosphere suddenly becomes oppressive. All the students' eyes are on him, expectant and stunned by the words that have come out of his mouth. 

Even Zenitsu and Inosuke are looking at him, and he can practically hear their shock. Their brows are furrowed in confusion, as if he had suddenly grown a third eye or said something completely crazy....

…

Wait...

Zenitsu grabs his arm, pushes him out of the classroom and into the hallway. Giyu feels his head cool a little as he is dragged away, and a flush of embarrassment rises to his face. 

He supposes it's natural that they don't believe him. As Urokodaki said, it's reasonable that people wouldn't buy something like this out of the blue. Tomioka had been so caught up in the moment that the idea didn't seem so far-fetched. He convinced himself that things would work out somehow. 

But come on—they have to understand!

He just got the love of his life back, and he's not going to let him die again! 

No, never again! 

They ended up sneaking into one of the rooms in the club building that no one uses anymore. 

It's full of old, dust-covered things. There's obsolete equipment, radios, cables, rolls of paper, books, and yearbooks that are so old they've turned yellow. They completely cover the shelves, from floor to ceiling, and who knows what other treasures are hidden inside all that stuff. 

In one corner there is a rusty heater, and on one of the tables there is even one of those televisions with a huge box sticking out from behind it. 

Zenitsu asked him if he had finally lost his mind when Giyu insisted that they at least listen to him, just for a moment, worried that this would be much more difficult than he had expected with them. 

Or rather, just one of them, since Inosuke took it seriously and even called it an emergency. 

Tomioka had forgotten that the guy was some kind of paranormal fanatic and conspiracy theorist, and now that was coming in handy, huh, who would have thought. 

On the other hand, Zenitsu couldn't be more rational and just looked at him suspiciously, to the point of pushing him to his limit. Desperate, at that moment, Giyu could think of nothing else but to take Tanjiro's wallet out of his pocket and hand it over. He told him, begged, rather, that he could buy whatever he wanted and that he would pay, but to give him just a few minutes to explain, please– 

Zenitsu was surprised to see him go to such lengths, but in the end sighed as if he had given up and asked Inosuke to borrow his bike. 

He headed for the front door grumbling and left for a nearby convenience store, but not before asking Inosuke to keep an eye on him because “He didn’t seem entirely fine”. 

Pff, him? 

He's perfectly fine, he doesn't know what he's talking about.  

“The community wireless system?” Tomioka asks, who had stayed with Inosuke in the classroom. They are now sitting on an old, uncomfortable red leather couch, their eyes glued to his computer. 

“Yeah, those speakers you see everywhere.” 

The goal is to get those five hundred people out of the danger zone before the comet hits. That's 188 families living in Itomori. 

The first thing they thought of was to issue an evacuation order, but the problem was how to do it. They had to rule out ideas that, for obvious reasons, sounded too impossible, to the point of seeming ridiculous.  

Take over the Prime Minister's official residence. Or the Regime building. How about the Broadcasting Centre? Or at least the nearest station. 

Not everyone would be at home that night because of the autumn festival, so there was no guarantee that they would be able to watch television or listen to the radio. 

The most viable option?

The warning system for disasters. 

The one Giyu remembers hearing several times during his swaps with Tanjiro. The one that spoke every morning and night and was actually used for morning announcements or to inform the population about someone's funeral, rather than for its real purpose. 

It can be heard throughout the whole town, both inside and outside it. 

On Inosuke's computer screen, the words ‘Superimposition, frequency’ can be read, with an explanation of what it is written underneath. Giyu reads it and slowly the plan forms in his head as he understands what Inosuke wants to do. 

“I see—That could work!” A wave of adrenaline rushes through him, and Tomioka ends up pushing the boy aside slightly as he moves over the sofa and gets closer to the computer. Without thinking, Giyu throws an arm around his shoulders and shakes him. A smile stretches and lifts his cheeks, "You're awesome, Inosuke!” 

Inosuke snorts, nodding proudly, flaring his nostrils and puffing out his chest at the compliment. 

The sliding door opens and Zenitsu comes in announcing his arrival, carrying plastic bags filled to the brim in both hands that look like they're about to burst at any moment. 

The snacks he had bought fall onto the sofa, and Inosuke is the first to rummage through them while Giyu fetches Tanjiro's wallet and the change— he makes a mental note to apologise or return the money in the future.  

“What a cheap fee” Inosuke says, taking a box of milk and a muffin from a plastic bag. His face twists into an ungrateful but not entirely real grimace.

“Deal with it!” Giyu reprimands him. 

Zenitsu opens the clear plastic box of a small vanilla cake topped with strawberries. Next to him, Giyu chews on some M&M’S chocolates. Although he’s not much of a sweet tooth, he eats them anyway. Tanjiro must love these chocolates, he’s sure of it. 

Zenitsu then looks at them curiously: “Well? Did you come up with anything?” 

Inosuke and Giyu look at each other for a heartbeat and then, in eerily synchronised fashion, turn to face him. Their faces twist into grimaces. The food wrappers in their hands rustle as they smile knowingly and maliciously. 

“Wait– A bomb?!” Zenitsu shouts in alarm, almost dropping the small dessert spoon from his hands.

“Yes!” Inosuke replies enthusiastically, almost sounding proud, as he stuffs a handful of chips into his mouth. “We have water gel explosives for construction at our storage site.”

Inosuke had mentioned working at the construction company with his uncle. He had several batches of dynamite that would be useful to them, and the best part was that they didn't have to worry about taking what they needed. 

“Broadcast hijacking?!” Zenitsu's voice cracks slightly as he looks at Inosuke. 

“The town's wireless system can be easily jacked using the startup frequency—"

Rural wireless disaster warning systems like the one in the town are easy to knock out, as long as you know the transmission frequency and the activation frequency to superimpose. 

The speakers are designed to activate as long as a specific frequency is superimposed on the audio.

“So we can broadcast an evacuation warning from the school.” Tomioka feels his hands tremble slightly as they explain the evacuation plan to Zenitsu. 

He could almost hear the energetic music playing in the background, like in those movies with impossible plans. 

Underneath all the food they had spread out on the table as if it were a party, a map of the entire village is open. It is almost identical to the one he saw in the library while searching for information about Itomori with Sabito and Tengen. 

Of course, minus the large crater that will form tonight. 

“The school is outside the disaster area, so people can evacuate here” Giyu continues, pushing Inosuke's computer and all the unopened wrappers aside with his hand. He points to a specific area on the map, a circle outlined in red marker with a diameter of just under a mile, centred on the Kamado shrine. 

“That–” Zenitsu almost chokes on the last bite of his small cake. His hands are also shaking, and tense lines of surprise, even fear, are etched under his eyes. “That's totally a crime!’”  

At this point, whatever they do will end up being a crime. Giyu doesn't care as long as he can get all those people out of the danger zone. 

As long as he can save them, Nezuko and Urokodaki. 

As long as he can save Tanjiro, he doesn't care what they have to do. 

“You'll do the broadcast,” Giyu reveals, almost enthusiastically. 

“Me?!”

“You're in the broadcast club–” Inosuke rolls his eyes, as if what he's saying is the most obvious thing in the world. Then he puffs out his chest again and points at himself with his thumb. “And I'm in charge of the explosives!”   

“I'm going to talk to the mayor,” Tomioka announces, confidence flashing in his eyes. 

Zenitsu seems speechless at this and stares at him wide-eyed. Inosuke picks up the explanation before he can do so himself. 

“In the end, the city council has to evacuate everyone.”

They can talk and plan all they want, but if even the firemen don't show up in the end, people won't take it seriously and there will be no way to get all those families to move.  

“I’m his nephew, I can persuade him!”  

Giyu knows it sounds crazy. 

The whole plan, talking about a premonition and a magical comet that comes every hundred years, sounds like the most absurd thing possible, and if months ago someone would have told him that these would be the lengths he’d go for love, he would have told them to fuck off. 

But now, knowing everything he knows. With everything at stake, he can't afford to hesitate. 

He has to talk to Yoriichi. He must stand before him with conviction, explain everything as rationally as possible, and try to persuade him—make him understand.

He doesn't know the man at all, but the way his expression changed from anger to guilt as he left inside Tanjiro's memories must have meant something. 

He must care. 

He must still care. 

Inosuke crosses his arms and nods, almost haughtily. “It's the perfect plan.”

Zenitsu drops his shoulders and lets out a heavy sigh, not knowing if he's surprised, horrified, or simply defeated. It's almost as if he no longer sees the point in trying to refuse or make them both see reason. 

“Okay, whatever,” Zenitsu grumbles. “Its just a what–if situation, right?” 

He sounds desperately optimistic and leaves Giyu frozen, because he hadn't thought of that. 

He turns his face away, avoiding his gaze, and licks his lips, measuring his words or perhaps searching for something to say at all. “Well–” 

“Not necessarily!” Inosuke saves him by divine grace, jumping in to speak once again. With a quick movement, he grabs his computer and lifts it into the air, urgently showing something new on the screen. “Do you know how Lake Itomori was formed?!”

Zenitsu and Giyu narrow their eyes and move closer to see. It is a site that looks like the home page of a blog or wiki about the town, with a large header that reads ‘The Origins of Lake Itomori.’ Then the words ‘A meteor lake from 1,200 years ago, incredibly rare for Japan.’

“It's a meteor crater!” Inosuke continues. “So one did strike this area at least a thousand years ago!”

As Inosuke speaks, with a triumphant look on his face, an image reappears in Tomioka's mind—a memory. 

A thread. Long and red. Winding with force and abruptness. Almost like unraveling the yarn in the muradai. It expands in the distance until it becomes the comet shining in the night sky.

Without warning, it splits and half of it falls in a plummet.

The meteorite hits a village in the mountains. Many people were killed. A crater is formed; a lake is formed and the village is destroyed.

Time passes and another village grows up around it. The lake provides fish and the celestial iron provides wealth. The village prospers. Years pass and the comet appears again. Once again, the star falls. Once again, people die. The same fairy tale. The same story and its unhappy ending. 

Yes. This has happened twice since people settled in these lands.

“Oh so– that's why!” Giyu stumbles over his words before he realises. 

That's why the Kamado family's offering contained that ancient and strange image of that enormous comet. 

It seems carved into the rock or painted with red and blue pigments that glow in the light. A giant traveling star dragging a long tail across the sky. 

Lines and brushstrokes painted in the most beautiful shades of purple and sky blue. A shimmering trail stretching out. Long hair of striking flashing colors.

Comet Tiamat has a cycle of 1,200 years. 

Lake Itomori is a lake formed by that comet, 1,200 years ago. 

The comet strikes, and when it does, it is a disaster foretold. 

That image—the dance—the exchanges—was both a message and a warning.

Something that can be avoided!

“You’re right, Inosuke!” Adrenaline surges once more in his voice. Without thinking, he raises his fist, and Inosuke bumps it with the same emotion and force. 

He can't stay still anymore—this has to work!

They both turn to Zenitsu, practically shaking, and speak in unison, spitting out enthusiastically, “Let's do it together!” 

“What... are you talking about?”

Birds fly over the sky outside the window. They are making noise, but they do not disrupt the atmosphere of the place as much as Yoriichi's harsh, heavy voice does. Like scissors cutting through cardboard that is too thick. 

The mayor's office is spacious and smells of paper and printer ink. It reminds him of the administration office at his university back in Tokyo, but he's not here simply to sort out his registration paperwork, but to try to save everyone.  

Everything around him is tidy and almost somber despite the natural light coming in through the window. The desk, the files on the bookshelf, the leather sofas. Everything is neat and clean, and the only thing that seems out of place is himself, feeling small inside this large room. 

Giyu feels like he wants to shrink into a corner. His hands are sweating, and swallowing is difficult because of the nervous lump in his throat. 

He had not seen Tanjiro's uncle in person until now. He knew from Tanjiro's memories that, despite being a calm and respectful person, it would be difficult to talk to him. 

Especially when it came to the temple and the dance. 

Yoriichi was so reluctant to have anything to do with his family's tradition, or even set foot in the temple in the past, that mentioning the self-fulfilling prophecy now or trying to explain honestly feels like a double-edged sword. 

Like walking on eggshells. 

The man has a deep, almost apathetic gaze. Reddish eyes that are empty yet gentle, in some inexplicable way. They weigh on Tomioka and crush him. He doesn't seem like a bad person, but he realises that he doesn't really know how to talk to him. 

How to convince him. 

Giyu takes a breath, clenches his fists, and plucks up his courage. He speaks a little louder, so as not to be crushed by anxiety. Because he must do it. 

“I said, we have to evacuate everyone in town before tonight or–.”

“No, I heard you, just…” Yoriichi's voice doesn't rise at all when he interrupts him, but he swallows his words and falls silent anyway. 

Giyu watches him take a breath and bring his hand to his face, to his forehead, almost in exhaustion, and lean back in the upholstered chair in his office. The leather creaks audibly. Yoriichi exhales sharply and turns his face towards the window. 

His gaze is lost somewhere on the horizon, as if searching in that line for some answer that is not in this room. Between the sparkling water of the silver lake and the green leaves of the trees. Rocking in the bright light of the sunset.  

There is something reflected in that gaze, in those almond-shaped eyes. Something almost fallen and melancholic. A barely perceptible shadow crosses his face and vanishes as quickly as it appears. 

“The comet will split and strike the town?” Yoriichi repeats, recapping almost the same words Giyu used, “Over five hundred people will die?”

His fingertips tap the wood of the desk almost in rhythm with the hands of a clock, leaving a long pause for reflection. Finally, he returns his gaze, a serious face and a raised eyebrow, framed by that reddish hair just like his nephew's.  

“Tanjiro, are you listening to what you are saying?” he asks, almost reproachfully. His body leans forward just a little, with silent insistence. 

Giyu tenses for a second, having forgotten that this is Tanjiro's body and that to everyone else, he is Tanjiro. 

“You can't be serious right now,” Yoriichi continues, shaking his head, closing his eyes and with tense lines on his brow.   

“I know it's hard to believe, but–” he tries to insist once more, moving a little closer, pleading, but it's no use. 

“Don't say another word.”

His teeth almost clench at the abrupt way Giyu closes his mouth. He straightens up, his back stiffening in response to the mayor's tone of voice. 

Yoriichi exhales once more, this time both arms rising to rest on the desk and one of his hands going to his chin, a thoughtful and tense gesture of reflection.   

“I guess the madness comes from the temple,” he mutters, as if talking to himself, with clear resentment. A low, piercing tone. “I knew you shouldn’t get so involved.”

Giyu blinks. 

One. Two. 

Three times, rationalising what the man in front of him has said. 

Is…

Is he fucking serious?

Giyu tenses up and the air catches in his chest. The words or any response to it don't come. The conviction he has had until now; that visceral need and urge to move that boiled for the thirty minutes he was in the club room creating the plan crumbles. 

Instead, it is replaced by fierce indignation. A destructive anger. 

Madness?

His chest swells completely, but not with air. With fury. With something burning in his throat that he doesn't know if it will come out as words or as a scream.

Tanjiro, mad? 

“I'll get someone to drive to the hospital in the city” Yoriichi announces, suddenly having the nerve to sound concerned. His hand picks up the phone from the desk and starts dialling, making a call even as he speaks to him. “We'll finish this conversation after you've seen a doctor.”  

The words send an unpleasant jolt through his body. 

It doesn't really make much sense, since it is Giyu who is controlling Tanjiro's body. The one who looks like Tanjiro and is making him act this way and say all these things. 

However, the reaction of his uncle, of his supposed family who was with him in his worst moments, makes him... explode. 

Because it's one thing to avoid the temple and all the tradition on your own and for a reason you never had the courage to admit.

But it's another thing to judge your own nephew and treat him seriously like a lunatic, without knowing a single thing about what he himself experienced with the temple. With all the dancing of the sun god. 

The images of Tanjiro's life come back to his mind. 

The way he broke out in a cold sweat when the responsibility of inheriting the temple fell on his shoulders. 

The way his gaze looked miserable as he danced and rang the bells on the ceremonial staff. 

The way he sat in front of Urokodaki and, with trembling hands and  full of shame, told him that he didn't want to be in charge of the temple. 

The way he apologised and cried because he felt repulsed by something that was so similar to the breathing he used in his past life and that had dazzled him.   

The seconds pass with the ringing of the call in the background. Giyu has his fists clenched at his sides, his knuckles white.

He doesn't know why Yoriichi hates the temple so much. To be honest, at this point he no longer cares to understand, but that doesn't give him the right to act and treat him that way. 

Not his Tanjiro. 

Suddenly, his whole body ignites, his core pumping blood and anger heating him so much that he could be on fire. 

Giyu moves before he thinks. He approaches quickly and heavily.

For a moment, everything he felt — the fear, the pleading, the respect for an older man he barely knows — slips away from his ribs. All that remains is that burning, dry, red fire that now consumes him from within.

“Don’t you dare—! What do you know, you bastard?!”

The words come out like a shout. The firmest thing he has said in the entire conversation. And he hardly recognises himself when he hears his own voice. 

Without thinking, Giyu grabs him roughly by the tie and pulls him until he is facing him. The phone falls from Yoriichi's hand, hits the desk and remains hanging there, forgotten. 

His eyes lock onto those of the man right in front of him, those reddish eyes that look so much like Tanjiro's, and at that moment he doesn't care about protocols, surnames, or titles.

But... there's a change. Again, that something flashes in Yoriichi's eyes, but this time, it doesn't disappear. 

It doesn't go away. 

It stays and shows... so much. It makes Yoriichi move his gaze from his eyes to his forehead a couple of times, and Tomioka doesn't know why he does it. Why he tenses up, as if his words had touched something. Not in his logic, but in his memory.

The anger doesn't go away, but it dissipates enough to silence him. 

Giyu changes his grip and slowly lets go, and Yoriichi immediately steps back. His lips are loose and trembling slightly. Either from shock or from the confusion of having been confronted. 

Tomioka feels a jolt at what he does not say. Because those eyes are not filled with anger, or even disbelief. They are filled with fear. Not the kind that makes your hands shake, but that ancient, stagnant fear.  

The silence weighs more than any argument.

Giyu hardly dares to move. He wants to say something, anything, but the words freeze in his throat. He realises that... Yoriichi can't even look him in the eye.  

“Tanjiro–” Yoriichi almost chokes, his gaze returning to his nephew's forehead, as if there were something there that completely disarmed him– something he cannot describe. “No... Who are you?” 

Now it is Giyu who is trembling. With an unpleasant feeling, like a small winged bug carried away by the wind, the words linger in his ears for a long time.

The reverberations of hammer blows can be heard faintly in the distance, carried by the gentle breeze. 

The village is too quiet, and even sounds from far away reach his ears on the wind. Tok-tok, tok-tok. They must be nails being hammered into hard wood to the rhythm of the noise. A nail, embedded in dark, tightly packed splinters, destined to rust. Iron pushed into old grain.

Or perhaps what he hears is the hammering of his own heart. 

Tok.

Tok.

Tok.

High up in the temple, in the Kamado shrine, workers are preparing for the autumn festival. The air smells of dry leaves and rice paper. The preparations. Glimpses of autumn. 

The lanterns begin to sway, hanging from strings above the food stalls, still empty. The other wooden lanterns are placed around the path.

Caressed by a wind that knows nothing of comets or impending tragedies.

Life in the village goes on. It prepares for the festival. For the show. The air is filled with anticipation for what is to come tonight, 

and he... just walks.

His feet move, dragging each step along the road on the hill overlooking the lake. The town hall building is behind him, as is his voice.

His chest sinks deeper and deeper. He doesn't know if he's going somewhere or if he just wants to get away. He just does it, and it's as if his legs are also held back by something invisible.

What else was he supposed to do?

He tried. God, how he tried.

He shouted. He begged. He pleaded.

Giyu tried to convince the mayor to help them, to listen to him, but in the end it was useless. All he seemed to have achieved was to push him further away. 

Tomioka holds out his hands, as if searching for some proof that he can still do something. His palms tremble. Tanjiro's hands; his flesh, his skin. His fingers, hardened by years of practice, still bear traces of the muradai. Small, healed blisters, almost invisible.

His guts tighten as if something inside him is sinking. As if the future itself is slipping through his fingers. Like sand. Like trying to hold on to the wind. 

What was the point, then, of finding him?

What was the point of getting Tanjiro back if he was destined to lose him again? Would they not allow him to tell him how much he loved him?

Giyu cannot stop himself. He doesn't because he feels like he could collapse at any moment. Is this anticipated grief? Will he really not be able to save Tanjiro this time?

Will the same thing happen as in his previous life?

His sister. His parents. Sabito. They all die for him. They all save him. 

So where does that leave Giyu?

Crawling again, falling behind. 

Tomioka looks up, hearing children's voices above him. There, on the slope, a group of three children say goodbye enthusiastically, their smiles lighting up their faces more than the sunset.  

“See you later at the festival!” says a little girl, and she walks away, skipping down the street that branches off from the one they are on. 

The other two children mirror her joy, tightening the straps of their backpacks, promising to meet at the temple and waving their hands. They both start running down the street laughing, approaching Giyu without noticing him yet. 

Tomioka doesn't know where he finds the strength to stop them.  

“You shouldn't go!” His voice breaks as he asks them, almost causing them to trip. He grabs one of the children by the shoulders and, with pleading, almost bewildered eyes, continues, “Get out of town– Tell your friends!”

“What are you saying?!" In his hands, the expression of a child he doesn't even know slips into terror. The boy pushes him away immediately, upset, and only then does Giyu seem to come back to his senses.

He is about to apologise when an upset female voice calls him again from above. 

“Tanjiro!” It is Nezuko, sounding louder than ever, but not out of anger. 

Giyu barely manages to turn around as she runs down the slope, her school shoes thudding against the concrete. Her backpack bounces on her back. Her long, messy hair flutters behind her, and she has a worried expression on her face. 

The children took advantage of his distraction and ran away. Tomioka feels embarrassed for a second. He shouldn't do that, he'll just look like a lunatic. Maybe he already is. 

“What are you doing?!” Nezuko stops abruptly and lunges at him. Giyu shakes when she grabs him by both arms and stares at him insistently, as if that could anchor him to the ground. The earrings in his ears flutter, with that familiar tickling sensation. 

He cannot look her in the eyes. He cannot respond to the demanding insistence of the pink of her irises, her gaze clouded by restrained tears. 

He doesn't like seeing her so upset. 

Nezuko's grip on his arms trembles; he can feel it even through the layers of Tanjiro's uniform. 

What is he supposed to do now?

She is talking to him. She is waiting for his response. But she is not looking at him. She is talking to her brother. To Tanjiro.

And he... he can't be Tanjiro for her. Not now.

Tanjiro.

Tanjiro. Tanjiro.

“Could Tanjiro... could he have been able to persuade him?” Giyu murmurs the thoughts as they come. His voice starts out weak, but the pang of uncertainty causes it to rise in tone and volume. “Is it my fault?!”

His hands shoot out to grab Nezuko's arms back. He finally faces her, and she looks at him in bewilderment. Tense lines are etched around her eyes.  

“Nezuko, leave the town with Grandpa before nightfall…” Giyu begs her, fear evident in his words. Time is running out, the sun is getting lower and the festival is getting closer. The blood has rushed to his ears and now he is driven only by pure desperation.  

“What—?” She wants to say something, but Tomioka interrupts again, ignoring her and continuing. 

“You will die if you stay here!”

“Tanjiro, stop it!” Nezuko finally raises her voice and slaps his hands away, making him let go. The blow doesn't hurt, but the sound cuts through the air like a whip. 

She is crying at this point, frustrated and scared. Tears ran down her cheeks without restraint. She doesn't wipe them away. She can't. Her fists are clenched as if she really has to restrain herself. 

That seems to be what finally makes Giyu shut up and listen to her. At last. Because the pain on her face leaves him breathless.

“Please tell me what's wrong—you've been acting very strange since you broke down yesterday!” She begs. Her voice trembles and her gaze is lit with concern. 

Nezuko takes a couple more steps towards him, closing the distance. Her hands are shaking, and her backpack slips off one of her shoulders, hitting her side without her noticing. Her breathing is heavy, forced, as if she can't control her own body.

“You scared the hell out of me, you idiot!” she shrieks, and punches him in the chest with the soft part of her fist, not hard enough to hurt him, but with all her pent-up emotion. “I found you on the floor, crying, with the mirror broken, as if your world had fallen apart! And you weren’t responding!”

Everything she had been holding back since yesterday spills out like a dam bursting. All the questions and her need to know, to understand, and to want to help her brother finally push her to break down like this. Fed up with having to wait.  

Tomioka just looks at her, listening to everything with an expression of...hurt. He doesn't move and just feels his throat closing up. The burning sensation of something rising from his stomach to his chest, looking for a way out.

It's not words. Not yet.

It's just that tremor in his eyelids. That sharp tug in the centre of his chest. That stifled sigh that almost turns into a sob.

Because he doesn't know what she's talking about. 

He has no idea what Nezuko is referring to. 

Yesterday... the broken mirror, his Tanjiro on the floor inside the memories. 

Something seems to want to flash in his mind. A remembrance that isn't his, driven by what she says. Those events that Musubi didn't dare show him, and only appeared distorted, like a damaged film reel.

Those memories he couldn't see. 

Is that what she is talking about?  

He doesn't know. It hurts him not to know. 

Tanjiro.

Tanjiro. Tanjiro.

“What's going on?! Why couldn't you stop crying?!” Nezuko presses, insisting as the questions continue to come out like a rising whirlwind of emotions. She sobs, and the sound of her voice is no longer steady. 

“What are you hiding from me?! Tell me already —who is Giyu?!”

Tomioka’s breathing stops. 

The wind rushes all around him. It is a gentle breeze that moves the leaves of the nearest trees. It also moves the earrings in his ears. It still tickles, like a whisper too low. 

His heart beats. Loud, alive, echoing inside his mind, the only thing that seems to make sense after the way his whole body freezes when he hears her. When he hears his own name come out of Nezuko's mouth. 

For a second, he can't react. He just repeats:

“What–?”

“Giyu!” Her voice is torn, as if the word burns as it comes out, after waiting so long to ask, “Yesterday you kept repeating that name!” 

His name. His Tanjiro collapsed yesterday and said his name. His name. He had said his name. 

Tanjiro. Tanjiro.

Oh, Tanjiro.

Nezuko remains blissfully unaware of the storm raging inside the man standing in front of her. Of the thousand and one thoughts and emotions that are now overwhelming him and threatening to consume him. She is breathing heavily, taking deep breaths and filling her chest with air.   

“You said something about losing him and a promise and—!”

…

There is a change. A tug. 

Like the tearing of a thread. 

One that Tomioka recognises. 

In his right hand, tied to the base of his little finger on pale skin is a string. It is neither too thin nor too thick. It looks like one of those that would be used for kumihimo, with that texture so characteristic of silk and its color so bright.

A thread that ends in thick, darkened fog. That hides a tired voice and a confession of love so genuine and overwhelming. A smokescreen from which Tanjiro's voice emerges. Disembodied, distant, and at the same time present, close. 

What Musubi did not show him. What it couldn't show him. 

The fine print of the contract. An aside for something he himself must remember.

A... promise. 

A void in which he hears, with total clarity, voices speaking to each other with a melancholy and pain that makes his heart clench and his throat close.  

  ̶L̶i̶s̶t̶e̶n̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶m̶e̶,̶ ̶n̶o̶ ̶m̶a̶t̶t̶e̶r̶ ̶i̶n̶ ̶w̶h̶a̶t̶ ̶l̶i̶f̶e̶ ̶o̶r̶ ̶i̶n̶ ̶w̶h̶a̶t̶ ̶t̶i̶m̶e̶,̶ ̶w̶h̶e̶r̶e̶v̶e̶r̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶ ̶a̶r̶e̶ ̶i̶n̶ ̶t̶h̶i̶s̶ ̶w̶o̶r̶l̶d̶,̶ ̶I̶ ̶w̶i̶l̶l̶ ̶f̶i̶n̶d̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶ ̶a̶g̶a̶i̶n̶.̶

P̶r̶o̶m̶i̶s̶e̶…?̶ ̶

.

.

.

̶I̶ ̶p̶r̶o̶m̶i̶s̶e̶

“What promise?” Giyu interrupts her suddenly, asking without being able to breathe fully. Not knowing if his voice is clear enough to do so. 

Nezuko falls silent and looks at him in surprise, her eyes fixed on him, brimming with tears that have finally stopped falling but still dampen her eyelashes. 

“Nezuko, what promise?!” Now it is Tomioka who insists, his voice rising, urgent in the strong wind that blows, lifting dry leaves along the way. A desperate plea to know. To remember. 

She can't say anything. She just blinks with her mouth open in surprise at the way something seems to light up inside the man in front of her. She wouldn't have been able to answer him anyway, because she doesn't know.

At that moment, the familiar tinkling of a bell is heard behind them, above the swaying of the bicycle wheels on the asphalt. They both turn around as it approaches. 

 “Heeey, Tanjirooo!” It is Zenitsu's voice calling him, waving wildly, approaching alongside Inosuke, the two boys sitting on the latter's bicycle. 

The bicycle brakes, skidding slightly on the asphalt as it reaches them. 

“How did it go with your uncle?” Inosuke asks immediately, leaning forward with interest, and Zenitsu jumps off the bicycle. 

Nezuko almost breaks her neck as she turns to face him once more. She turns pale, as if she wants to cry again. “You went to see him?!” 

But Tomioka doesn't answer. He doesn't even look at her. Not at her, nor at the other two boys, who also have their eyes on him. 

The sounds are no longer so loud. The sensations are no longer so present. As if a veil had fallen over his head. As if his body were enclosed in a bubble, isolating him from the present. From now. 

There is only one thing he recognises and that seems to matter. The pull. The thread. Invisible, but he can feel it on his little finger, surrounding the base of it. Insistent, that little squeeze on his skin that pulls and tries to take him away. 

A tug that makes itself known. Extending into the distance, calling his attention and encouraging him to follow it. 

“Tanjiro?” Inosuke asks, puzzled by the lost expression on his face. He waves his hand in front of him a couple of times, trying to get his attention, but it ends up being useless.  

“Is everything okay?” Zenitsu turns to look at Nezuko, noticing the traces of tears that have already dried on her cheeks, but still shine faintly in the evening light. He places his hand on her shoulder and frowns, now concerned for both siblings. 

Tomioka does not hear Nezuko's reply. It does not reach his ears because the thread has pulled once more, this time more insistently, desperately. 

His gaze finally lifts, shooting up to the horizon. Beyond the houses, the wavy outline of the mountains builds up one on top of the other. And even further beyond, where the thread seems to end, a misty blue line rises imposingly. The mountain he had climbed.

That huge crater; the plain formed in the center painted by green grass and small streams, thin or thick, scattered in a chaotic and messy way. And in the center of it all, a single tree with a somewhat ancient appearance despite its vibrant green color and all the leaves on its branches.

The body of the god at the peak. The offering where he drank sake and fell asleep. 

The wind blows again, cold and light from the lake, gently stirring the Hanafuda earrings in his ears. They caress his skin once more, like someone's fingertips. 

They push him. They invite him to continue. The thread pulls at him again. 

“Are you… there?” Giyu asks into nothingness, murmuring an idea that wreaks havoc on his mind because of what it might imply. 

Everyone turns around to look in the direction he is staring so intently. 

“Is something over there?” Zenitsu is the first to ask, breaking the silence and turning back to him.  

But once again, Giyu does not answer them. He takes a couple of deep breaths, hyperventilating from the overwhelming, visceral need to move that returns to him.

“Let me use your bike!” More than a question, it sounds like he is demanding it as he pushes Inosuke, grabs the handlebars and climbs onto the seat—not abruptly, but rather urgently. 

An urge that pumps in his chest and veins and burns like fire. 

“Hey—but—Tanjiro!” Inosuke barely manages to get off without stumbling or falling. 

Giyu takes off before any of the three can stop him. The seat is too high, and he has to pedal standing up as he rides away and begins to climb the hill. 

“What about our plan?!” Before he gets too far ahead, Zenitsu's voice reaches him, shouting as if he's about to cry.  

“Get ready as planned!” His response echoes in the silence of the village as he turns one last time and sees his friends and Nezuko looking at him as if he's finally lost his mind. Perhaps he already has. “Please!”  

Separated from his body, the voice echoes off the mountains and the lake. As if Giyu were chasing that voice; that thread that now seems so clear and that is finally willing to take him to its end. To where what he has been searching for awaits, making his heart race. 

Towards that promise that only he can keep. 

Tanjiro.

Tanjiro. Tanjiro.

Wait for me. 

Chapter Text

It was quite late when Mitsuri-san's training had finished. His muscles felt like mush, not exactly sore, just heavy and generally too tired.

Tanjiro had seen the Pillar of Love in action in the blacksmith village and had fought alongside her, so he was already familiar with her fighting style. However, the flexibility training was harder than it looked.

It was only the third day, and she had left them all exhausted. After taking a bath, most of them were having dinner in the dining room of Mitsuri's house. The atmosphere was filled with friendly conversation and a sweet smell of honey and gardenias. Tanjiro liked it because it matched Mitsuri-san's personality so well.

The food came and went, as did the hunters; some barely managed to eat anything and then retired to their bedrooms to rest. The pillar was sitting next to him once again, her cheeks flushed as she chewed on yakisoba and drank green tea. It was the fifth dish to be served, and Tanjiro could see two more portions being brought in the background.

Soon a figure approached their table, shuffling his feet and looking like he was dying. His skin was pale, with dark circles under his eyes and messy blond hair. Zenitsu slumped his shoulders forward and almost collapsed into the chair when he sat down in the seat across from Tanjiro. The training had hit him pretty hard compared to Tanjiro.

He let out a long, pathetic groan, almost like a whimper, and his head fell onto the table, shaking everything closest to them. Mitsuri-san just laughed and encouraged him with a sweet voice, but it was only when a kakushi placed a plate of yakisoba in front of Zenitsu that he seemed to cheer up a little. It smelled delicious.

Tanjiro had finished eating a short while ago, but he decided to wait for both the Pillar and his friend to finish. Besides, he enjoyed being with them and talking. He was listening to Mitsuri-san talk excitedly about honey sweets when the cawing of a crow was suddenly heard.

The three at the table turned towards the window in front of them and there was Kanzaburo, Giyu's crow. He was carrying a small scroll rolled up in one of his feet, and he was clicking his beak and moving his head to get their attention. After a second, he fluttered a little and landed on the table, right in front of him.

A smile immediately spread across his lips, and Tanjiro could feel his heart suddenly leap with joy. It was a letter for him.

"Another letter from Giyu-san!" he exclaimed in an excited voice. He was overjoyed.

His hands reached for one of Kanzaburo's feet. They untied the red string holding the paper and took it carefully. After giving him a gentle pat on the head and thanking him, the crow let out one last caw before flying away the way it had come.

He opened the letter embarrassingly quickly and his eyes scanned the words, his heart pumping in his chest and his stomach tingling.

Tanjiro was unaware of the stares of the other two people around him.

Mitsuri's knowing eyes only watched him tenderly, as it was too obvious, while Zenitsu's were almost bored and annoyed.

Perhaps it was exhaustion that made him dare to speak, to reveal those thoughts that had been bothering him for some time regarding his friend and the Water Pillar.

Whatever it was, he was tired of him not admitting it.

“Nee, Tanjiro,” Zenitsu called out to him after swallowing a mouthful of yakisoba.

Tanjiro didn't look up from the paper. He had that silly smile on his face and a blush that gave him away without shame. Zenitsu only received a small ‘Hm?’ in response from him, but he didn't really have his attention.

"When are you going to admit... that you're in love with the Water Pillar?"

The silence that followed at the table was thick. Crushing. It was only broken by the way Mitsuri began to cough and choke in surprise on one of the sakura mochi she had been chewing.

The commotion of the other people around them could still be heard, but for that moment, it felt as if everything had disappeared and only they remained.

Tanjiro froze.

In any other situation, he would have helped.

He would have immediately turned to assist Mitsuri. He would have handed her a glass of water. He would have patted her on the back a few times to help her cough.

But in this situation, Tanjiro did nothing. He couldn't. He just stood there, petrified.

His heart dropped to the floor and any sound was dulled by a sudden ringing in his ears. As if his brain had short-circuited and he was having a hard time processing, rationalizing what he just heard.

In love...in love with Giyu-san?

And the question sounds so unreal because, it's not something Tanjiro would have even imagined.

No one ever says something like that out loud.

Because they're both men...and there are things with more weight at the moment than that. There's too much at stake, and something like love in their context is... not important.

Tanjiro has dropped the letter at some point, but he doesn't notice it either. He turns, or thinks he is, because his neck moves before his eyes do and, there's Zenitsu. He's looking at him with an almost bored air. As if he doesn't notice that his words completely shook his friend's core.

But in his eyes there is a glint. A small spark of knowing something that even Tanjiro himself doesn't know. He realizes that his mouth has gone dry and he doesn't know how to answer, or what to do, even.

“... Huh?” is the only thing that comes out of his throat, as a tight, embarrassed sound.

“When are you going to admit that you're in love with the Water Pillar?” Zenitsu repeats, in that same tired tone of voice. He even has the nerve to take another mouthful of noodles into his mouth. As if it's the most normal thing in the whole fucking world.

“No—” Tanjiro starts, but has to clear his throat, regaining his voice. “I don't know what you're talking about, Zenitsu, I don't—”

“Oh, Tanjiro please, it's obvious!” Zenitsu interrupts him rolling his eyes, setting the chopsticks down on the table with force “You should listen to yourself when you talk about him and how practically your eyes glow with hearts!”

He points to his own yellow eyes, as if emphasizing what he is saying, leaving Tanjiro even more frozen.

No, he...

That's not ...

That is... yes, Tanjiro owes him his life and Giyu has saved him more times than he can count on his hands. He has sacrificed himself for him and his sister. His life depends on Nezuko's return to being a human as much as his own.

He is someone so strong and kind. With a scent that calms him just by taking in an instant's glimpse of it. A confidence that makes Tanjiro keep his feet on the ground and want to keep moving forward.

Someone who, despite having lost so much, is still here. Even though he tells everyone he doesn't deserve to be here, his actions prove otherwise.

Someone with such a gentle and beautiful eyes that make him shudder every time they land on Tanjiro and a touch so soft that-.

Oh.

Oh, no.

No, no no no nononono—

I don't—

I—!

“I don't like him like that!” For an instant, Tanjiro feels his stomach sink. His heartbeat spirals up until it rumbles inside his ears and his mouth feels dry again.

“Keep saying that to yourself!” Zenitsu retorts sarcastically, scowling at him.

“You're wrong!”

“Don't deny it!”

Beside them, Mitsuri had managed to calm her cough and spit out the piece of mochi that choked her for a second. She took a couple of deep breaths of air and brought the tea to her lips. She drank it all in one sip and almost smashed the cup on the table when she puts it down, harder than she would have liked.

The sharp thud of it is what breaks up the other two's fight and shushes them. Both Zenitsu and Tanjiro turn to find that Mitsuri-san has begun to laugh. A sweet sound, bubbling laughter rising into the air.

There is no malice in it, no ill-intentioned mockery, rather relief and surprise that leaves both boys shocked.

“I thought I was the only one who had noticed!” Mitsuri-san then exclaims, her voice infectious with her sudden good mood. "Oh, Tanjiro—"

Suddenly, she turns completely in his direction. The Pillar of Love's hands catch Tanjiro's; she squeezes them tenderly and lifts them until they are held in the space between them. She has a pearly smile on her lips, her cheeks flushed and her eyes sparkling with a new glow. A different one than they usually have.

And then, in a slow, serene voice, as if hailing an ancient poem, she says:

"Love is a secret that eyes cannot hide. Especially yours."

Tanjiro feels his shoulders twitch again, the air getting stuck in his chest. His lips tighten and his brow furrows a little more.

Stinging tears well up in his eyes and for some strange and stupid reason, he feels more exposed than before. His cheeks flush uncontrollably and embarrassment threatens to consume him completely.

Is it really...is it really that obvious?

Mitsuri is softened by the sight of him. A giant wave of pure empathy washes over her and she gently strokes the back of both of Tanjiro's hands in circles with her thumbs. A small gesture of support, like a mother comforting her child after a fall that hurt him.

“You love in such a beautiful way, Tanjiro.” she says carefully and with tact as she watches thick tears begin to slide down Tanjiro's flushed cheeks. His hands tremble between hers. “Don't hold back, don't close yourself off from loving Giyu-san if that's what you really feel.”

Tanjiro puffs out his chest again, but it's hard for him. He wants to speak, to deny it, to say something, but he can't. Any excuse has died in his throat. His lips are not responding and seem to have only sealed against each other, a product of the shocking realization of what that means.

He knows it's true.

That little seed has sprouted inside of him. It has taken root and the sprouts have grown until they are about to bloom.

He can no longer deny it. He can no longer hide from his own feelings. From how much he loves Giyu Tomioka.

And at that very moment his mind is filled with nothing but Giyu: his smile; the gentleness of his voice and gaze when talking to him alone; the softness of his touch when he strokes his reddish hair; his calm way of being and how he let himself lose to please Tanjiro and be part of the training; his strength and solid way of fighting; his perseverance even though life has been so unfair; his concern and his attempts to be more sociable with others.

Simply Giyu.

It has been there from the beginning. Feelings that grew, developed with care, and as he got to know him better, it was only a matter of time before they turned into love.

Because you only love what you know. And Tanjiro feels he knows Giyu in a way that no one else does.

The good and the bad. And he loves him in spite of it.

He fucking loves him so much.

And he's so terrified of the size of that love.

“But—” Tanjiro has to catch his breath, try to contain all the chaotic surge of emotions sweeping inside him like a torrent, and even then, his voice comes out as a tight whisper. Trembling. “It scares me...”

Mitsuri-san gives Tanjiro's hands another squeeze. Her smile doesn't falter at any point.

"Love is scary, yes. It's intimidating and complicated many times, but it's always worth it." Mitsuri declares, with an assurance that leaves him quiet.

Then she brings one of her hands up to Tanjiro's face; to his cheek. She caresses it gently, wipes away the traces of tears that sparkle on his skin and that small gesture makes his chest feel lighter.

“Never be ashamed to love someone, Tanjiro.”

Zenitsu has been watching them, just listening to Mitsuri's soft voice and her words so full of assurance and love, stemming perhaps from experience and the mere fact that she is the Pillar of Love.

Something inside him stirs as well for, although he does not want to admit it out loud, what she is saying also drills into his consciousness.

In his own heart that has begun to beat without permission for the self-centered former Pillar of Sound. Zenitsu just purses his lips, suddenly losing his appetite.

"Love. Never stop loving, in that beautiful way you do." Mitsuri finally says and almost automatically Tanjiro's body leans forward, burying himself in an embrace with the Pillar, who gladly returns it delightedly.

Loving Giyu...

Yes. Tanjiro loves Giyu.

It doesn't feel so bad to do so now.

.

.

.

.

Then....

Why...

…did it hurt so much to love Giyu Tomioka in this other life?

Something echoes.

It is everywhere around him. A continuous, repetitive tempo.

It is new. Tanjiro has never heard anything like it, and it seems to be accompanied by someone's soft touch on his cheek. Faint taps. Like a fingertip pressing against his skin. It's gentle, as if drawing his attention and trying not to hurt him in the process.

The touch is cold; whoever it is could have been holding snow or ice before getting close to his face. Tanjiro opens his eyes, confused as to why someone would wake him up like that.

It is dark and for a moment Tanjiro thinks it must still be night. There is a small layer of what appears to be dew on his skin, hair and all over that strangely hard surface he has been lying on. There is a musty smell that makes his nose twitch, and his eyes take another heartbeat to get used to the strange gloom that surrounds him.

The lethargy lingers for a second longer, weighing on his eyelids and muscles, when he finally realizes that he is not in his room, not even in his house. All around him is rock, moss and the natural moisture condensed in this enclosed space.

There is another tap on his cheek and Tanjiro realizes that it wasn't someone calling him a moment ago, it was just water that has been falling all this time from somewhere on the ceiling of the cave and making that strange echo.

Tanjiro groans low as he moves and rests his weight on one of his hands as he finally stands up and sits down. His gaze falls to his lap and he immediately notices that this is not his body.

“I'm Giyu again!” the words escape, that voice too, without meaning to.

His hands run over the wet clothes on his torso with a combination of excitement and fear, then up his neck and finally reach his face, touching it as if he wants to convince himself that it really is him.

It feels strange to be in Giyu's body again, especially after having gotten his memories back. To have gotten back that life in which he knew him in the past. It is overwhelming, warm and painful at the same time, to be surrounded by the smell of the person he loves.

This throat, his blood, his flesh, his skin. Giyu— it's Giyu and he's right here.

Tanjiro purses his lips, a bitter taste settling on the roof of his mouth. There is an uncomfortable clench in his heart that threatens to rise up to his throat and choke him to the brink of tears, but he takes a deep, deep breath, swallowing all those emotions and that love that weighs him down.

He doesn't want to cry anymore, he's done it enough and that won't change the fact that Giyu doesn't remember him and that he didn't keep his promise because of his own fault.

He looks around with some restlessness and soon realizes that, in front of him, there is a small altar. One of stone and old wood, covered with moss and dust, which is revealed before him, completely gray, the only color that stands out, is the worn red of the rope that wraps the neck of a white porcelain bottle on one of its sides.

Looking closer, Tanjiro notices that there is another one at the foot of the altar, this one is open compared to the first one and the red rope that also wrapped it rests forgotten on the stone floor very close to him. He recognizes it as the Kuchikamisake offerings he had put together with his sister some time ago, although he does not remember leaving them at the relic.

Either way, Tanjiro feels the odd urge to reseal the bottle and leave it as it is supposed to be. It's a fleeting need to fix it, as if it's somehow wrong to leave it that way. He does it without much thought, his hand closes around the porcelain, caps it and carefully wraps the red string around the neck again.

His fingers move the string with familiar memory and when he finishes he places it back on the moss mark on the rock where, he assumes, it was before being taken.

Tanjiro stands up, not quite sure what to do now and turns once more. He takes a step, but stumbles over a backpack that surely belongs to Giyu. He grumbles quietly to himself and takes it rather reluctantly before starting to walk to the exit of the cave.

He climbs the narrow stone stairs cautiously, with that railing that doesn't seem firm separating him from a small drop into a pool of water that glistens from the little light filtering down from above. The silence is profound, making even a small drop falling from the ceiling echo loudly off the stone walls.

The late afternoon sun hits his face and Tanjiro has to squint his eyelids and frown at the abrupt change in atmosphere. His eyes burn and water for a heartbeat until it becomes bearable. When he fully exits the cave, the air and smell of petricor floods him and that somewhat obvious suspicion he had is confirmed.

He is in the body of the god.

That huge crater that opens up for several meters in all directions. A plain painted by green grass and a decent sized pond, chaotic and messy, covered by a thin layer of mist that barely touches the surface of the water. Tanjiro turns and finds the huge tree standing with its roots curled around the large slab of rock that forms the cave.

He looks at it with that same sense of wariness, which he now understands where it comes from. His brow furrows again with discomfort, that by this point he doesn't bother to hide and, almost as if he were talking to the god head-on, he asks aloud:

“What was Giyu doing here?”.

The leaves of the tree sway in the wind, wanting to give him an answer that never comes. Tanjiro releases the air and even without really understanding what is happening, he starts walking again. Giyu's clothes rustle with his every movement, his jacket is heavy on his shoulders and his hiking boots sink into the wet grass and mud. Giyu's backpack bounces a little with each movement.

The smell of wet soil is thick, it seems to have been raining for a long time before he woke up, but when Tanjiro looks up, the sky is perfectly clear; there are only thin rows of clouds, parting like white cotton in the wind, bright and golden.

He keeps moving, almost mechanically, until he reaches the edge of the plain and where the small wall of earth and rock that forms the crater rim begins. For some strange reason, his mind is blank, his memories, which until now had not left him alone, are unusually vague and he does not know if that is a good thing or not.

Tanjiro starts climbing, and as he does so, he tries to remember what he was doing before switching bodies with Giyu. He... had collapsed after remembering his previous life... he had talked to grandpa, then his sister and then....

Then his fingers touch the rim. His body emerges from the crater and the evening light begins to cover him completely.

«He remembers the music of the festival. That light green summer kimono full of chequered black patterns. His own dejected face reflected in a mirror. His disheveled hair falling down his face.

Right. Yesterday was the autumn festival. Zenitsu and Inosuke asked him to go along with Nezuko, and he wore those traditional clothes at his sister's request. It was the day when the comet was supposed to be brightest, so they went to see it. Yes, that was it. It all seems so distant somehow, but it was definitely yesterday.

His attitude had surprised his friends. His silence had unsettled them and Tanjiro felt a little pity at that moment. He recalled, somewhat impatiently, how all the way Zenitsu and Nezuko were whispering behind his back, thinking that they were discreet enough or that the distance he himself had put protected them, but of course it didn't. »

Do you think it's because of someone who broke his heart?

Yes, Zenitsu.

It was because of someone who broke his heart. Someone he loves with all his existence but doesn't remember anything of what they once were in the past.

But how could they even begin to understand? How to understand what Giyu is to Tanjiro and how much it destroys him to not be able to look him in the eye and tell him how much he loves him?

They can't. No one can.

Only Tanjiro. Only Giyu and Tanjiro.

His feet sink into the earth with effort as he finally reaches the top of the slope. He catches his breath, the wind hitting his face is cold and the sun on the horizon still shines insistently even though it is slowly hiding.

«Tanjiro remembers when they were climbing up the narrow road. When they had reached the top and he turned toward the meadow at the sight of it: a huge comet in the night sky, just above them. A long, flowing tail of violet, sky blue and emerald green, while its head shone brighter than the moon among the stars.

At some point, he didn't need to strain his eyes for all around it were particles that danced like fine dust. The sight was dazzling enough to silence the conversation behind his back and leave him at peace, if only for a second.

It was a vision straight out of a dream, an impossibly beautiful night sky.

Then...»

Then Tanjiro looks down; down at the landscape that should be Itomori at that distance, but— something is wrong.

Below him is a blanket of clouds that is brilliantly unfurling. Through them he can see the lake and its water sparkling like silver, but it is beginning to be tinged with faint shades of blue.

And Tanjiro is looking at it.

He blinks.

And he stares.

«Tanjiro remembers that, at some point, when the wind moved the leaves of the trees roughly, he could see with total clarity, how that wonderful star was splitting.

There were two large, bright points and one seemed to be getting closer and closer. In a short time, several delicate shooting stars began to twinkle around it. It was as if the heavens were falling. That night, the stars really did fall.

A fragment was consumed in reddish fire and fell, drifting away from its core and stardust. It fell faster and faster. It fell closer and closer. Little by little, that beautiful image warped into fire and choking dust.»

A shiver runs down his back, from the base of his spine to the nape of his neck, and a sense of absolute dread settles in his chest. A searing fear he can't handle. An anxiety and sadness that threatens to make him lose his mind standing there.

Cold sweat breaks out on his temples, on the palms of his hands that clench into tight fists.

Perhaps it is his own mind playing a trick. Giyu's eyes playing tricks on him. Maybe Tanjiro has already gone mad and snapped before he knows what's going on.

Because—

“The town... is gone...” the voice comes out tight, with what little sticky breath manages to escape from the knot that has settled in his trachea. There are tense lines circling his eyes and an almost painful pinch between his eyebrows.

Because the town is no longer there.

«Tanjiro remembers his sister's screams. Her voice calling out to him in desperation and someone tugging at his arm, insisting that they must run no matter how futile it would prove to be. He remembers the scorching heat. The crackle descending through smoke and ash.

That white, reddish, lethal giant falling towards them. Falling on them, without will or purpose, just because destiny has decided so, until it consumes them by accident.

Killing them instantly.»

The lake is bigger. Where Itomori is supposed to be, there is another body of water that overlaps what was originally the lake. Tanjiro takes a couple more heavy breaths until he feels his legs buckle. His knees give out as if the joints are silently breaking and he ends up kneeling on the ground.

“At that moment… did I…” the air escapes, Giyu's voice barely a strained thread on the verge of breaking “die…?”

Yes…

Tanjiro had died , without being able to love Giyu once again.

What is a memory?

Is it the ability to remember that people have? Is it the images of past events or situations that remain in the mind?

Or is it something inherited? Something that is not necessarily of the you of now. Of the you of this life. But from a previous one.

And where do human memories live?

Are they in the synaptic circuits of the brain? Do retinas and fingertips also store memories?

s it something that can be taken out and put back in, like a memory card in an operating system?

Something that... we can have back?

Giyu Tomioka has asked himself that question more often than he would like. All this mess with the switches and his previous life has made him really question the nature of memories. How is it even possible to remember something that happened to him almost a thousand years ago.

If he wants to get really technical, the word remember comes from the Latin ‘Recordari’.

It is made up of ‘Re-’ which translates as ‘Return’ and ‘Cordis’ which means 'Heart.'

In other words, to remember is to ‘Return to the heart’.

It is not only an act of the mind, but also of the heart, it implies an emotional connection with what is remembered, with what is felt. What one burns in the depths of the eyes, what one tastes with the mouth, perceives with the nose, hears with the ears and feels with the hands.

Everything that remains and accumulates inside oneself.

So, does it answer any of these questions?

Well, there is no concrete answer to it. Each person may have their own interpretation of what a memory is, but for Giyu it has definitely been something that arises from his heart, pumping over and over again driving his whole being to move.

Even now, as Giyu pedals with that effervescent adrenaline coursing through his veins, he can feel everything that goes through his heart, the one that shares a body with Tanjiro's.

It is as if, despite everything, they are together. Tanjiro, or at least a fragment of his heart is still here, becoming one, entangled in that red thread that guides him and extends to the horizon.

His muscles burn, heavy and inviting him to stop. He is sweating too much. Tanjiro's school uniform sticks to his chest and back uncomfortably. His tousled hair falls over his face and his earrings sway roughly, brushing against his neck.

But Giyu pedals on, again and again.

The asphalt has been gone for a while and now the bike climbs up unpaved mountain roads. That same route he took with Tanjiro's family opens up ahead. The low sun flickers through tree branches and dry leaves crunch crushed under the bike's wheels.

His chest rises and falls heavily, trying to take in as much oxygen as possible the further he goes.

In his head, he has been hearing his own voice for a while; not as a thought, but as a memory.

It is tense, serious and pleading, but strangely determined at the same time.

«Listen to me, no matter in what life or in what time, wherever you are in this world, I will find you again.»

Body, memories and emotions are inseparably linked and now Giyu can say with certainty that it is true. That what had been denied to him before is finally opening with a new air inside his heart.

That which had been hidden for too long and that only he could discover.

Vestiges of the battle against Muzan, a thousand years ago.

“Tomioka-san!”

One beat.

“We 're begging you, please don't move!”

Two. Three.

Giyu can feel them crashing in his head, like dull thuds inside his skull, along with the irritable ringing tearing at his ears.

It dulls everything. It consumes everything.

He is not fully aware of the overly heavy rise in his chest as he breathes, nor of the still open wounds in his head, nor of the metallic taste of blood in his mouth, nor of the rough material of his katana's handle between his fingers.

Fuck, he's not even fully aware that one of his hands is no longer there.

Exhaustion sinks into his muscles like lead from overexertion and makes it increasingly difficult to stand, threatening to break his knees. Staying awake is difficult. The wave of adrenaline that had him standing upright dies down periodically, but he can't give up just yet. He's not going to let go yet.

He has to move. He has to find him.

His body reacts before his mind does, pushing the kakushi around him. Someone grabs his left arm trying to stop him, pulling him, saying something he doesn't understand, but Giyu doesn't let them, he pushes them away heavily and awkwardly.

He is not seeing what is around him in reality, he does not distinguish the faces of those who try to help him, neither their voices; his eyes move, wandering in a lazy, lethargic way, reduced to a single urgency, looking for...someone.

Tan...

Tanjiro.

Tanjiro. Tanjiro.

“Where...is Tanjiro...?” his voice sounds raspy, broken and extremely tired; as if each word has to make its way through splinters. Blood slides from his lower lip down to his chin as he opens his mouth, warm and thick, sticking to his skin.

There is a small commotion ahead, a restless murmur. The kakushi are tense, moving stiffly, leaning over...something. He can see them in the crowd of bodies and debris.

They are so close that he could reach them with just a couple of steps, but his gaze doesn't quite focus on the reason for it, and the ringing in his ears has become even more deafening until it fills every corner of his head.

But, for some reason, he gets a bad feeling. The chill of the morning starts to seep in. It sinks into his stomach and causes his eyebrows to furrow in a worried pinch, threatening to consume him.

“Is Tanjiro okay?!” he spits urgently, and it doesn't really sound like a question for all the desperation that seeps into his voice. The visceral need to know, like a gunshot that leaves no room for Giyu to breathe.

Tanjiro.

Tanjiro. Tanjiro.

He wasn't addressing anyone in particular, but someone stops in front of him almost immediately. A woman. He can see her raise her arms and stretch them out to her sides, in another vague attempt to stop him, shield him from whatever is up ahead in a desperate way.

“We—we have to check on you first!” this person says to him, with a pleading, tear-filled look, framed by the open space of the black uniform cover on her face.

But Giyu does not answer her. His body moves again, a step more stubborn than the previous one, passing the kakushi and the pleading in her voice.

And, when he blinks and finally, finally can see ahead, there, on the ground, surrounded by the golden light of the rising sun of a new day, motionless, is Tanjiro.

He is on his knees, the weight of his body leaning forward. His head down. His left arm is gone. His uniform soaked, painted in the morbid red of fighting and blood everywhere.

His earrings are the only thing moving, soft and showy amidst the morning light and chaos.

And yet, his right hand holds what's left of his broken katana tightly. He clings to it as if there is still something to fight against. The flame-shaped hand guard is still there; the same one that once belonged to the Fire Pillar.

Giyu feels— perhaps for the thousandth time that same day— how the air almost dies in his chest. How his heart squeezes until it hurts and his throat closes in a rough knot. His vision is static on Tanjiro and the pounding in his head now seems to stab him.

And amidst the chaos and shock, to his numb ears come the wailing of the three kakushi standing there, surrounding Tanjiro's body. They weep and tremble as they hold him. One shakes his head, as if he doesn't want to accept the situation.

Giyu doesn't want to either.

“He's not breathing—we can't even find his pulse—” one of them says between hiccups on the floor, resting his forehead on Tanjiro's motionless shoulder.

And it's odd because... in that instant, a memory returns to his mind without permission.

An image from the night before. The calm before the storm. When the two of them were alone in his Estate and they were not called to this disastrous war yet.

The memory of Tanjiro's smile, lighting up his face, stretching beyond his lips. That gentle and genuine and innocent smile. So warm...it had bewitched him.

His reddish eyes, sparkling in the moonlight, looking back at him, as if Giyu was the most precious thing to him at that moment. With a tenderness and affection that he didn't quite understand and that made his stomach turn.

That light that pulled him out of the dark pitch he himself had sunk into. Like the warm sun now rising behind them.

His sun. His little sun.

Tanjiro, simply Tanjiro.

The air chokes, almost transforming into something he doesn't know if it's a sob or a spasm trying to get out of his throat. His eyes burn as his tears spill and fall down his cheeks uncontrollably, but it doesn't compare to the fire burning in his chest and lungs.

It burns. It stings so much.

Tanjiro.

Tanjiro. Tanjiro.

The present

The trees have thinned out. It is a small stretch of road with only a weathered wooden fence surrounding it.

From the left side of the road the open landscape of Lake Itomori can be seen. A few wires, pylons and trees get in the way, obscuring even the town houses from view in the distance, but somehow that just makes the composition of the panorama more pleasing.

He feels the air hit him much harder in the face as he pedals and Giyu hurries to wipe the hair from his face along with the sweat.

But try as he might, he can't shake off the twinges of tears in his eyes that have begun to well up without permission.

Giyu takes a step towards him, feeling that his legs don't belong to him; then another and another. Each one firmer than the last. As if a strange force, an invisible thread drags him towards Tanjiro.

His own katana falls in a dull thud on the ground, the metallic sound getting lost immediately, swallowed by the thick silence that surrounds them, but he doesn't care. The kakushi who tried to stop him a moment ago holds him by the arm when she sees him stagger and Giyu just lets her be. He doesn't have the strength to refuse.

She helps him over and his knees finally give way and, with a suddenness that makes him hiss in pain, Tomioka kneels in front of Tanjiro.

The other kakushi share a glance and move a little away, just enough to leave only the two of them in that short instant.

Giyu, his hand trembling, blindly finds his way to Tanjiro's grip on the katana. His skin is still warm beneath the blood that stains it and for an instant it is as if he is only asleep.

Giyu's lip trembles as he opens his mouth trying to say something, anything, but all that comes out is another sob. A stretched and broken one.

His weight leans forward as a new stab pierces through his chest. His forehead touches Tanjiro's, his hair tickling his skin drawing a halting sigh, but there is no reaction from him.

And Giyu stands there, maybe for a second; or maybe for a cruel eternity, just crying, squeezing Tanjiro's hand tightly, waiting, begging for him to hold it back.

But nothing happens.

“I'm sorry...” he says then, when he finally finds his voice, like a faint whisper. Every word feels like it scrapes inside, as if confessing them would open up yet another wound. He has to swallow the lump in his throat, force himself to take a sharp intake of breath to not break into tears one more time: “I failed to protect someone I loved—again.”

Again...

It always happened again and again.

Again and again, someone must die in his place. When he promises himself it won't happen, when he fights with all his might to avoid it, when he promises himself he will protect those he loves—he always fails!

It is always the same.

The same story. The same endless cycle. The same fairy tale with the same unhappy ending.

“I'm always the one who ends up being protected by others” Giyu continues.

The frustration doesn't fit in his chest. The feeling of helplessness and anger with himself, burn like red-hot iron and twist him inside, choking him more than any of his physical wounds or the very taste of blood on his palate.

He felt it with his sister, he felt it with Sabito and now with—

Now with his sun.

Tanjiro—

“I'm so sorry...”

The weight of that certainty bends him, as if his own spine is giving way. He wants to scream until his throat tears, but only succeeds in making his breath break into gasps.

“Forgive me, Nezuko.”

How... is she?

If everything went well, she must have woken up human by now and...unaware that her brother has....

Will she be able to forgive him?

To look him in the eyes and...see someone other than the coward who was unable to accept that he loved her brother and couldn't protect him in the end.

No. He doesn't deserve that.

He knows that no apology, no oath, can erase this stain. All he is left with is that warm hand that no longer responds, and the poisonous pang of knowing that no matter how long he lives, he will never forgive himself.

Giyu straightens up backwards, just a little, just enough to take a breath. However, Tanjiro's weight seems to follow him, as if seeking to stay with him, because he feels him leaning in his direction even more. His left arm comes up instinctively, wrapping around him, almost embracing him immediately as best he can.

He feels the warmth on his skin and rests Tanjiro's head against his shoulder, as if that gesture might give him some strength back.

Tomioka maneuvers for a second, a bit awkwardly and with the little strength he has left, pulling Tanjiro closer to himself. He curses the lack of his right hand now. If he had it, he could hold him better. If he had it, maybe he could have protected him better.

It takes him a little while, but he finally manages to settle him against his chest. Laying his head on the place where Giyu's heart beats heavy and melancholy. It's not perfect, nor is he completely on his lap as half of Tanjiro's body still rests on the ground, but he holds him anyway.

And Giyu does not let go.

Tomioka watches him for a heartbeat, trying to carve in the back of his eyes every detail of his face. To burn it into memory, never to forget: the long, bushy eyelashes that cast shadows on his cheeks; the smooth skin of a warm tone, like honey in summer; the round curve of his nose; the mark on his forehead; his eyelids closed as if he were just sleeping.

And those pesky earrings.

His sun. His beautiful sun.

Tanjiro.

Tanjiro. Tanjiro.

Giyu sobs low and choked and hugs him tighter with his one arm. His hand trembling, his fingers sinking into the messy reddish hair, feeling its softness intermingled with the dried blood.

He shrinks over him, leaning forward again, almost seeking more closeness with Tanjiro's body. Feels the sting of tears as they spill over and the choking knot squeeze his trachea so tightly that it seems to keep him from whispering.

“Tanjiro...” he says, his lips on his forehead. Warm breath brushing the mark on it, as if it could breathe life into him once more. “Please...forgive me.”

And... he seems to do so.

Sweat drips down his chin. His hands clench the handlebars tightly. His legs move slower pushing the pedals and before he knows it, the front wheel of the bike catches on the root of a tree sticking out of the dirt and Giyu slips.

Reflexively his hand shoots out to catch with all his might on a nearby tree trunk as the bike slides underneath and tumbles down the small slope beside the road. It hits the ground with a thud perhaps three meters below.

The wheels are bent and the rims are shapeless. He could even swear they've run out of air, but he couldn't say for sure, nor is he going to stop to find out.

Tomioka propels himself upward and rolls across the ground. His clothes fill with dirt, but he gets to his feet immediately and starts running, leaving the bicycle forgotten among the vegetation and breathlessly muttering an apology to Inosuke.

He begins to climb up the narrow mountain path.

“Gi.. yu..”

For a moment he thinks he's imagining it. That his desperation, his longing to hear that voice again, is playing tricks on him. Or that perhaps he has already crossed the threshold of madness. His heart stops for a beat and then thumps hard, afraid to believe.

“Giyu...”

But he hears it again, that sweet voice uttering his name so close to his ear that it makes his skin crawl, yet so far away, like the ethereal breeze of the wind.

Giyu holds his breath and his eyes flutter open. He straightens with almost reverential care and there, on his chest turning as best he can, is Tanjiro looking back at him, unfocused and through wet lashes. His left eye barely open, glinting back at him, opaque and still alive.

Lovingly, as he always did.

“Giyu...?” he calls once more, weakly. Tanjiro's lips barely moving.

The whole world seems to shrink to that instant. No blood, no ruins, no screams in the distance. Only that sound, that breath that names him.

His sun. His beautiful sun.

Tanjiro.

Tanjiro. Tanjiro.

“Tanjiro—” The air chokes him again and his whole body relaxes as if it has been released from whatever was imprisoning it. He can breathe. He can feel the blood pumping hard, charged with giddy excitement in his veins “It's me— wait, everything 's going to be okay—-the kakushi—!”

He can't form a coherent sentence, his words stumbled by the relief and excitement of seeing him conscious on his lap. By the certainty growing in his chest: there is still time, he can still save him.

It is rather foolish the way he futilely wanted to get up, or that he moved with the intention of doing so, for his legs have gone numb as if the weight of his world had accumulated on them. He is sure that if he were to stand up, he would lose his balance at once.

But a desperate determination pumps in his veins and his head rears up in fear. He anxiously searches for the kakushi who were with them a moment ago among the rubble. They are not so far away and when they look back at him seem to understand him immediately as they approach, with that same urgency in their bearing and in every footfall on the ground.

That shared urgency that gives him a thread of hope.

Giyu is about to rush them, tell them he is still alive and order them to attend and stabilize him immediately, but the instant he makes the gesture and wants to speak, reluctantly pull him away from his grasp so they can heal him, Tanjiro stops him.

“No—!” he says, louder than he would have thought capable in his state. The katana, which he was holding tightly a few moments ago, falls from his grip, slipping to the ground next to Giyu's.

With his only hand now free, Tanjiro holds onto Giyu as best he can, with unexpected strength.

He grips the uniform in his fist and pulls even closer to Giyu, flatly refusing to move away from his embrace, from his warmth. Tomioka freezes and looks back at Tanjiro, frowning in disbelief and fear.

“What—?” he tries to ask.

"Don't leave me—" Tanjiro cuts him off and it's a plea that cuts through him like a knife. His reddish eye, clouded with fatigue, reflect the same fear he feels.

A fear not of death, but of parting from him.

The kakushi get to where they are; two immediately kneel down to his level and hold out their hands to intervene, but Giyu stops them with a mute and brief gesture, asking them to wait.

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see them trembling with urgency as they want to help, but abide by the orders regardless.

"They will heal you— Tanjiro please—" Giyu insists in a strained thread of voice, on the verge of breaking, not bothering to hide the desperation that drains him completely.

He has started shaking again and tears threaten to fall once more.

However, Tanjiro shakes his head. It is not an abrupt gesture, but he stubbornly refuses, ignoring the pillar's plea. He clings to that decision like an anchor. And in his eye is an acceptance more painful than anything else.

“No...I...” he replies, each word more slurred than the last, his breath faint, but strangely confident. “I'm going to die soon...Giyu...”

Those words— that certainty in the way he says it and looks into his eyes— stick like soul-splitting knives into Giyu's soul. There is no hesitation, no doubt in what he says. Just an understanding that Tomioka doesn't want to accept. The hole in his stomach, in his guts, expands devouring everything and his heart falls into it.

He sucks in air sharply through his nose, as if it's about to run out. His body completely tenses again. The grip of his hand on Tanjiro's head tightens; not to the point of hurting him— never to the point of hurting him— but of wanting to hold him closer. To embrace him. To feel him against his own body.

To let the warmth tell him that it's still there, and that it's not going away.

“No— Tanjiro— please—” his voice breaks into another low wail and it bristles the skin of the kakushi around them.

Tears are already sliding down his cheeks and down the curve of his nose to the tip, where they wobble for a heartbeat and fall onto Tanjiro's face.

Tanjiro blinks at the feel of them, but doesn't let go. He clings with his one hand to Giyu's uniform, knuckles tense, as if letting go would hasten his death that much more.

“Just...stay with me...” Tanjiro begs.

It's a whisper so pure, so fucking absolute that Giyu can only swallow saliva, press his lips together and force himself to nod, agonizingly accepting what he's asking of him. It's not because he wants to. It's because Tanjiro is asking him to, and to refuse would be to break something he would never know how to put back together again.

Acceptance feels like a hot iron sinking into his chest.

His sun. His beautiful sun.

Tanjiro.

Tanjiro. Tanjiro.

He doesn't have to say anything else, or even look up for the kakushi to understand. It is an unspoken agreement that neither wants to keep, but they will do it anyway, even if remorse weighs on their conscience for the rest of their lives.

The two who were on the ground stand up heavily, still hesitating, but not daring to take a step further. They will not move away, even if it might break their hearts.

They stand there, tense, surrounding both slayers, sharing the helplessness and absolute fear of one of them.

Soon the mountain scenery changes as he climbs.

Orange is replaced by green that remains untouched all year round. Tall, leafy trees, almost completely blocking out the sun's path, but not so much as to leave the site in gloom. Rather, they are ethereal, quiet shadows in the shimenawa belts that hug the tree trunks.

Giyu runs with all his might among them. His feet sinking into the earth and grass, with each step more determined than the last. His eyes have stung again and this time the tears are no longer held back. He doesn't bother to hold them back. They just slide down his cheeks reddened by the effort and fall, blowing in the chill evening wind.

His chest aches. His heart pounds and contracts a little more.

One beat.

Two. Three.

Giyu's grip still twitches. If he's honest, he doesn't know what to do right now with the sickening hole in his chest that expands as the seconds pass.

Tanjiro finally moves. So, oh so very slowly, he lifts his arm. He seems to struggle from exhaustion, but he is determined all the same. One hand reaches for his left cheek, and Giyu moves in getting even closer to the touch, cradling his own face there, almost desperately.

And Tanjiro smiles. Smiles despite the tears and the blood. He smiles and looks at him so lovingly it makes him want to scream again.

“I am ..... glad.... to be able to ....hear Giyu's voice and feel his embrace...” he expresses, very faintly with a drop of voice. “one last time.”

Giyu passes saliva.

“Please don't say that...” he begs, perhaps for the thousandth time.

Tanjiro still smiles, however. His thumb moves gently over Tomioka's pale skin, seeking to comfort him, to wipe away his tears somehow.

It doesn't work.

“I mean it...” he replies. “It's okay—”

“No—it's not okay!” It's Giyu who interrupts this time. It's a sob that comes out loudly. A denial filled with choking anguish that wrenches his voice like nothing else has. Not since his sister died. Not since Sabito died.

“You don't understand—” Giyu whispers, like a jealously guarded secret, “I cannot exist in this world... if you are not in it.”

The confession is direct. It fills the air and covers them with a woven tapestry that holds an absolute truth among the patterns of the grand design. A coded message that you don't have to look too hard to figure out.

It is there. As clear as spring water, even if Giyu doesn't have the courage or is even worthy to say it.

Tanjiro understands. The spark of understanding crosses the redness of the eye that looks back at him with a flash of surprise. He trembles, Tomioka feels him tense barely against his chest and lose his breath.

And then, amidst the silence and warm morning light surrounding them, a mellifluous sound rises. A bubbling sound that sinks deep inside him, soothing the darkness.

It is Tanjiro, laughing through tears, but not saddened, on the contrary, he does it in a genuine, relieved, happy way. It is infectious as Giyu instinctively responds to it. He leans into him, snuggles him even closer to his chest until their foreheads touch and thinks there is no sound more beautiful than that.

His lips threaten to purse in a bitter downward grimace.

His sun. His beautiful sun.

Tanjiro.

Tanjiro. Tanjiro.

Tanjiro lets out a sigh full of affection, sniffles, and, with that beautiful, kind smile, looks at him, with reciprocated feelings.

“Oh, Giyu...” his voice sounds wistful, exhausted, “It makes me...so happy...to have met you.”

Giyu feels his lip tremble and tears fall more insistently. His throat burns and he wants to deny it. To tell him he doesn't deserve it, doesn't deserve his words of comfort and just please don't say anything else— he wants to stop him before giving the chance to say it back, before he can return the feeling to him.

“ No—” Giyu whispers first, like a muffled echo falling on deaf ears. “Don't say it—”

But it's no use, for Tanjiro confesses, warm and full of love, just like the glow of distant stars, words that make him shudder even more.

“Because....from the bottom of my heart.... I.... love you Giyu.”

It's as if he's been stabbed straight through the heart and his ability to breathe like a normal person is taken away. Giyu closes his eyes and his face sinks into the hollow of Tanjiro's neck trying to run away and stifle the new sob that comes from his throat.

His shoulders tremble, his hand squeeze him desperately, as if he could melt with him and disappear right there. He wants to say “no” again, to say he doesn't deserve it... but the word dies in his throat, swallowed by the unbearable need not to let go.

Instead of denying him, all he manages to do is hug him tighter, trembling, his soul overflowing and his mind in pieces.

And Tanjiro repeats.

“I love you.”

He repeats.

“I love you.”

And he repeats.

“I love you...”

His voice still tired and so laden with love that clings to every syllable.

“And... I have no regrets other than... I didn't tell you sooner...” the last of it dies as his voice breaks, bitter, honest.

The kakushi beside them tremble, weeping silently in that thick atmosphere. They must hold their hands over their mouths and clutch their own wails to keep from bursting the dense bubble they've been sucked into.

All around them there is silence. The chaos of the battle has subsided, they have counted the dead and stabilized the wounded and some have begun to approach, curious and concerned at the scene.

But no one dares to say anything. Because nothing matters but the two of them now. Only Giyu and Tanjiro.

That memory.

The end of the thread finally presents itself in his memory and Giyu lets out a frustrated cry from deep within his heaving chest. The sound echoes through the trees and the swirling clouds, expressing too much, letting out all that disappointment with himself for forgetting something so important.

How could he have forgotten something like that?

His sun. His beautiful sun.

That love. That confession so pure of mutual feelings that had moved him, that had broken every one of his barriers and pierced his soul completely. Giyu screams once more, it sounds like a pathetic sob among the vastness of the mountain.

He runs out of air immediately but keeps moving forward. Even though his muscles are burning and he is bathed in sweat and dirt all over.

His brow is tight and the tears won't stop falling. His heart won't stop echoing in his ears and now his voice rises in his head as well, elated and trembling at the thought:

Years ago—

In our previous life—!

Before all this—!

One beat.

Two. Three.

Giyu can feel them crashing in his head, like dull thumps inside the skull tearing at his ears. He doesn't know if it's his, or Tanjiro's reaching for him there, buried in his neck.

The heat of him envelops him. The faint rise and fall of his chest against his. His ragged breathing brushing against his skin. The smell, familiar and sweet even among the iron of blood. Everything else dissolves. That's all that remains.

It dulls everything. It consumes everything.

There is a thought drilling through that cacophony in his mind. One that begs him, urges him to speak. As if it were another version of himself that has been watching everything as a tiresome and tedious theater.

One that screams at him to stop being a coward and return that love before it's too late.

Say it.

Say it back.

You love him too, don't you?

Then say it—

Tell him you love him— Why won't you tell him?

WHY CAN'T YOU TELL HIM?

But his lips are sealed. His throat has run dry of words and that confirmation of reciprocal feelings never comes. Crushed by fear, by the certainty that this is not how he wants to give it to him.

Giyu doesn't want to. Not like this.

Because Tanjiro deserves more than love in the midst of melancholy. He deserves more than a gentle ephemeral remedy in the midst of pain. He deserves more than an “I love you” that mingles with the smell of blood and the dust of battle.

Tanjiro deserves everything from Giyu. Everything. And how can he give it to him when life is slipping away from him with every breath?

No. Not like this.

He must love Tanjiro as he is meant to: openly, wholly, with the certainty that this love is not tainted by the urgency of a goodbye. In a world where they can live long years, laugh without looking over their shoulder, wake up without the fear of not finding each other.

Where Giyu is not a coward and can accept and admit from the beginning that he is in love with Tanjiro Kamado. So sincerely and romantically. To say it with a firm voice, with a clean look, with his whole life ahead of him.

He loves him. He loves him. He loves him. He loves him. He loves him. He loves him.

He has fallen so, so deep that he can't find a way to get back up because gravity is a thing of the past and the only thing that holds him up is him. Tanjiro.

But not like this. Not while his hand tremble clinging to his clothes, while the heat of his body dissipates second by second.

Giyu feels as if he has the words on his tongue, burning, pressing to get out. But if he utters them now, he fears they will wither with Tanjiro's last breath.

And he doesn't want that to happen. He wants those words to bloom for all that he wants to give him demands more than an instant: it demands another lifetime entirely.

His sun. His beautiful sun.

Tanjiro.

Tanjiro. Tanjiro.

But... how can he, now that fate has decided to take him away in this life?

In... this life...

His shoulders become still. The air suddenly returning and calming the pounding of his heart. Then he swallows everything he wants to say and a new decision settles in his soul.

“Tanjiro....” he calls out to him in a low voice, but cutting into the stillness and skin of his neck.

Giyu straightened up slowly, just a little so he could see Tanjiro face to his face. His tired reddish eye blinks and tries to focus, giving him to understand that he is listening.