Chapter Text
It was a cold winter day. Tanjiro felt the snow crunch underneath his boots. His teeth chattered, and he wrapped his scarf tighter around himself. He struggled to keep pace with his father, eventually catching up and grabbing hold of his hand.
“Are you sure you want to accompany me today, Tanjiro?” Tanjuro asked his eldest son. “The journey back up the mountain will be even more difficult.”
Tanjiro nodded his head vigorously. “I want to help, Father, and learn as much as I can. So, when I’m old enough, I can do it on my own, and you will be able to rest more.”
Tanjuro gave him one of his gentle smiles and pet Tanjiro’s head. “I appreciate the help. But, that is not something you need to be worried about for quite a while.”
Tanjiro pouted and clung closer. His father had been frail looking for as long as he could remember. His mother told him that he was sick a lot. And yet, he performed the Hinokami Kagura each year without fail or rest. It was ethereal and beautiful to witness.
The trek down from their house at the top of the mountain was taxing on Tanjiro’s small body. Still, he refused to force his father to carry both him and the charcoal on his back, especially when he had begged to come along. So, he held his head high and trudged along.
He thought he saw something scurry along the edge of his vision, and his nose picked up a strange, unfamiliar scent. Something… fruity? In the winter? Tanjiro’s head swiveled in the direction where he detected the disturbance. Something rustled in the bushes at the edge of the treeline.
Tanjuro must have noticed something, as well, because he came to a halt. Tanjiro looked up to his father in apprehension. Tanjuro stared at those same bushes for a few painstaking seconds. No more movement came from them.
“Let’s go,” Tanjuro said after a moment. Tanjiro clung to his father’s arm with both hands until they covered a considerable distance from that spot.
“Do you know what that was, Father?” Tanjiro asked meekly.
“I’m not sure,” Tanjuro answered. “But, there is nothing for you to worry about. Be it man or beast, I will not let them harm you.”
That put Tanjiro more at ease, and he walked the rest of the journey without holding his father’s hand.
At the base of the mountain stood a small, wooden house. The door slid open when the sound of their crunching footsteps got close enough.
“Ah, Saburo-san,” Tanjuro greeted with a smile when he saw the older man at the entrance. “Pleasure to see you, as always.”
“Likewise, Tanjuro-san,” the man said. His gaze shifted to Tanjiro, who clung to his father once more. “And who’s this?”
“This is my eldest, Tanjiro,” Tanjuro introduced him. “Tanjiro, this is Saburo. He lives here, at the base of the mountain. If there is ever an instance when you need help, he is someone you can trust.”
Comforted by his words, Tanjiro nodded slightly before leaning forward in a polite bow. Saburo smiled in what seemed to be approval.
Father and son continued down the now more level path to the nearest village, finally reaching it after another twenty minutes of walking. Tanjiro had never seen this many people before. After all, he and his family lived alone on the top of the mountain. But this…
People began to notice their presence, and began to gather to greet Tanjuro. Tanjiro looked around in awe. He had never smelled this many different scents before. The plethora surrounded him, each pleasant in their own way. Some smelled of scraped tree bark, others of ceremonial candles, others yet of a combination of mint and citrus… It was beautiful.
When everyone had finished talking to his father, the townspeople then turned their attention to little Tanjiro. Tanjuro repeated the process he went through with Saburo, introducing Tanjiro to everyone and everyone to Tanjiro. Haruto the carpenter. Asahi the candlemaker. Yuzuki the herbalist. He taught him who to turn to for any troubles they might face. Haruto if the house needed reinforcing. Asahi if they needed candles for New Year’s. Yuzuki if one of them caught a cold.
Tanjiro made sure to be as polite as possible. He wanted everyone to know that his parents had raised a good, respectable first son.
“How old is this one, Tanjuro?” Haruto asked.
“Will be seven this year,” Tanjuro replied. “Nezuko, our eldest daughter, just turned six a few weeks ago.”
The people nodded in approval. “Must be really strong, to make the journey down the mountain at such a young age,” Yuzuki said. “You are going to grow into a strong young man one day, Tanjiro.”
Tanjiro made a noise of affirmation and nodded his head.
“So, you’ve got charcoal to sell today?” Asahi turned to Tanjuro, already pulling out a pouch from his kimono.
Tanjuro set down the basket of charcoal. “The usual fares,” he said. The townspeople seemed to understand what this meant, because they formed a line in front of the basket. One by one, they specified the amount of coal they wanted and paid for it in bronze and silver coins.
“The exchange of currency,” Tanjuro explained to his son, who was listening attentively. “I produce and sell the charcoal, and the money that is exchanged for the charcoal can then be used to buy food and other goods. The people have a way to stay warm during winter, and we benefit, as well.”
Tanjiro crossed his arms in an X shape, trying to visualize the exchange. “So, it is… uh- It makes everyone happy!”
“That’s exactly right,” Tanjuro said as the last of the charcoal disappeared from the basket. “That is why you must make sure to always be fair.”
“What does that mean?”
“Let’s say I sell one lump of charcoal for fifty yen,” Tanjuro proposed. “Let’s also say that that is the fair and equal price. One lump of charcoal equals fifty yen. If I was to instead sell one lump of charcoal for one hundred yen, it would not be fair to the buyer. But, if I was to sell one lump of charcoal for twenty five yen, it would not be fair to me. If the price is not fair, someone will be left unhappy. Do you understand now?”
Tanjiro nodded. He was determined to take all of his father’s lessons to heart.
“Oi, Tanjuro!” Someone called. “The doors to my soba restaurant are broken! Can you help me fix them?”
Tanjuro gave the man a light bow. “Of course.” Tanjiro trudged after his father to the building. Indeed, the sliding shoji doors looked worn down and on the verge of falling apart.
Tanjuro went about fixing the door while Tanjiro took the chance to look around. Tall wooden poles went around the perimeter of the street, weird cords running between them. “Those are power lines,” a passerby explained when they noticed him staring at them. “They carry electricity to our houses. It’s still very basic and hard to use, but it’s something.”
Tanjiro was captivated. While he liked their mountaintop home, there was something about this quaint little town that drew him to it. It was the people, he realized. They were all so nice, even willing to take time out of their day to explain power lines to him.
Tanjuro finished with the door, stepping away. The restaurant owner thanked him profusely.
“Please, let me pay you for the work,” he offered. Tanjuro shook his head.
“That is not necessary,” he said in reply.
Tanjiro tugged on the sleeve of his father’s orange and black haori to get his attention. “But, Father, you said that the price needs to be fair. You worked hard on fixing the door, doesn’t that mean a fair price needs to be paid?”
Tanjuro pet his son’s head. “Very good, Tanjiro. You’ve been paying attention. Yes, in most cases, there needs to be a fair price. But, that should never stop you from simply doing a good deed from the kindness of your heart. I sell charcoal so that my family has enough to eat. I fix doors because it is the right thing to do.”
Tanjiro nodded again, taking in the lesson once more. His father was already setting off down the street, searching for more people to help. Tanjiro started to follow, but the voice of the restaurant owner called out to them.
“Tanjuro, at least take a free bowl of soba!” He said, extending a steaming bowl of noodles to them. “It’s the least I can offer.”
Tanjuro smiled and accepted, giving the bowl to Tanjiro. They took a seat inside the restaurant while Tanjiro slurped up the noodles.
“Oftentime, when you do a good deed, you can expect a good deed in return,” he said.
After the quick break, Tanjuro returned to his good samaritan crusade. Tanjiro followed after him, holding onto the now empty charcoal basket. While Tanjuro worked, Tanjiro kept the townspeople entertained by answering questions about his family.
“Mother is so cool! She defeated a wild boar with a single headbutt! I’m training my forehead to be as strong as hers. Nezuko is always playing with little Hanako, our youngest sibling. She just said her first words a little while ago! Poor Takeo is so jealous he is no longer the baby. And we’re getting a new little sibling soon, Mother said.”
Most children would probably be bored in his shoes, but Tanjiro was having the time of his life. The chance to meet other people filled him with joy. He told them his stories, and they told him theirs in return.
By the time the sun began its journey back to the horizon, Tanjuro was finished with his work. “Tanjiro, want to go pick out a treat from the bakery for your siblings before we head back?”
“Yes!” Tanjiro exclaimed. He wouldn’t miss an opportunity to make his siblings happy.
Tanjuro led him to the bakery at the far end of the town. It was a small little shop. Tanjiro could smell pastry flour and bread and ohagi.
“Oh, Tanjuro!” The bakery owner called out when they entered. “You’re just in time. You won’t believe what happened last night. Someone robbed us!”
Tanjuro’s eyes narrowed. “Do you have any idea who could have done this?”
The woman crossed her arms. “I’ve already asked around town. No one is coughing up. I guess it can be Tokuro, he’s had it out for me-”
Tanjiro jumped up. “I can! I can help! I’ll help find the thief!”
The woman looked at him in confused bemusement. “I have a great sense of smell!” Tanjiro explained. “I’ll sniff the thief out!”
The shop owner exchanged looks with Tanjuro, and gave a shrug. “Very well, give it a shot, kid.”
Tanjuro lifted Tanjiro over to the counter. “Whoever it was, they stole all of yesterday’s ohagi. We had a shortage today because of that.”
Tanjiro sniffed at the restocked shelf of ohagi. He could smell the red bean paste and rice and- something… fruity? The scent was familiar, but he couldn’t put his finger on from where.
He shook his head in disappointment. “It doesn’t smell like anyone I smelled in town,” he said.
“You’re telling me that someone trudged all the way over here to steal some ohagi?”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t help,” Tanjiro said, feeling extremely guilty for some reason.
The woman sighed and smiled at that. “Don’t worry, kid. Anyways, Tanjuro, did you want something?”
“Tanjiro, pick something out.”
After a moment of contemplation, Tanjiro decided on the remaining three pieces of ohagi, enough for himself, Nezuko, and Takeo to all get one. Tanjuro paid for the sweets and the woman placed them in a small box. Tanjiro insisted on carrying the box as they walked back through town, past Saburo’s cabin, and back up the mountain.
“Father, I can carry the basket, too, if you’d like,” Tanjiro offered.
“I’m fine,” Tanjuro assured him. “The basket is a lot lighter without the charcoal.”
They walked in silence for a while, with only the sound of the snow crunching beneath their feet accompanying them. But, Tanjiro couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that someone was watching them. Something in the air felt different, unnatural, unfriendly-
The smell, he realized. There was another smell following them. He sniffed deeper. Something… fruity. Tanjiro froze as the pieces suddenly clicked. The unknown smell from the bakery, he had smelled it on the descent. The thief from the bakery was following them.
The bushes rustled on his left. Tanjiro squeaked. As if sensing his fright, Tanjuro took a protective step in front of his son, wordlessly urging him to be quiet.
Everything was still for a moment. Then, more urgent rustling and the rapid crunching of snow. A sharp yelp, and someone was struggling in Tanjuro’s arms.
Tanjiro gathered up the nerve to take a peak. To his surprise, it was… a boy, around his age. The sides of his head were shaved, a larger tuft growing in the center. He had a desperate look in his eyes, clashing with his oddly pretty lashes. A scar ran across his face.
When the boy saw the package of ohagi in Tanjiro’s hands, he screamed and tried to lunge at him, though Tanjuro still had no problem restraining him. Tanjiro turned away, hugging the box of ohagi closer to his chest. These were for his siblings, and no thief was getting to them!
“So, you are the thief that Tanka-san mentioned?” Tanjuro speculated, still keeping a tight grip on the boy’s purple yukata.
“So what if I am?!” The boy yelled. “I was hungry!”
“B-but, everything has a fair price,” Tanjiro found himself speaking up. “You have to pay the price for the ohagi.”
“Me not having money doesn’t make me any less hungry!” The boy yelled, still trying to swipe Tanjiro’s box away. “Gimme!”
“I cannot allow you to do that,” Tanjuro said, his voice eerily calm.
“It’s not fair!” The boy wailed, though now he stopped struggling. “It’s not- It’s not fair- Some people need ohagi more than others!”
Tanjiro felt a tinge of pity for the kid, even though he couldn’t forgive him for trying to steal the ohagi. Now that he was no longer thrashing around, Tanjiro could see that the boy was actually a bit shorter than him, and definitely on the skinny side. The anger in his eyes masked hurt. His mismatched sandals - also clearly stolen - were not suited for winter, leaving his toes a dusty pink. And the fruity smell persisted. How could something that smelled so nice act like this?
His father must have felt the same, because he released his grip on the boy’s yukata. His eyes darted to the ohagi box once again, but he didn’t make a move to try and grab it.
“I can see that,” Tanjuro told the kid. He took off the charcoal basket, and then the haori, draping it over the boy’s shoulders. The boy’s expression shifted to confusion at the act of kindness.
“However, stealing is not the right choice,” Tanjuro lectured the kid gently, in the same manner he gave Tanjiro lectures. “You must not inflict the same pain you feel onto others.”
The boy didn’t respond, almost like he couldn’t hear him. He tugged the haori, which was far too big for him, tighter around his shoulders and shivered.
“You’re hungry and freezing,” Tanjuro said, picking up the charcoal basket once again. “Come with us to eat and get warmed up.”
“... Huh?”
He couldn’t seem to comprehend the kindness Tanjuro was bestowing upon him. But the man was already walking again, and Tanjiro struggled to catch up. After a few moments, there were shuffling sounds behind them as the boy caught up. More silent walking. He kept sneaking glances at the ohagi that Tanjiro kept so carefully away from him.
“Does your family know you are here?” Tanjuro asked. The boy shook his head, keeping his gaze centered on the ground beneath his feet.
They reached the house. Tanjiro could already smell his mother’s cooking.
Tanjuro knocked on the door, and Kie opened it. Her gaze quickly landed on the boy, who in turn was staring at her large stomach.
Tanjuro whispered something in his wife’s ear, and her gaze instantly softened. “Tanjiro, go help set up the bowls. And-” she turned to the newcomer expectantly.
“Genya…” he murmured.
“Genya, can you go help him?” Kie continued. “We’re having radish soup tonight.”
Genya shook his head and took a miniscule step back. His demeanor had changed entirely. Tanjiro found he no longer feared or even distrusted him. He felt only an immeasurable pity. Despite clearly being starved enough to be driven to stealing, he was refusing their offer of hospitality.
“You could use something to eat,” Kie said, not taking no for an answer. “And you’re freezing.”
At her insistence, Genya stepped forward, walking inside the house. Tanjiro followed.
“Onii-chan!”
Nezuko ran up and wrapped Tanjiro in a hug, which he quickly returned, hoping the box of ohagi stayed hidden from her view. From the corner of his eye, he noticed Genya shrink back a bit. When Nezuko saw him, she also shrunk back. Tanjiro realized she must have been scared of Genya.
“Nezuko, this is Genya,” he said, trying to emulate his father back in town. “Genya, this is my little sister, Nezuko.”
Nezuko gave him a shy wave, while Genya was clearly feeling out of place.
Tanjiro decided to take action, taking Genya by the wrist and leading him to the kitchen. “We need to get all the bowls and spoons. Let me show you where they are.”
Working in silent tandem, they retrieved all the bowls and spoons and returned to the main room, where the simmering pot of radish soup was already sitting. The rest of the family gathered there, as well, with Takeo curled up by Nezuko’s side and Hanako sleeping in Tanjuro’s arms.
Tanjiro and his family pressed their hands together. “Thank you for the meal.” After a second, Genya clumsily copied their actions.
Kie poured soup into everyone’s bowls. Tanjiro noticed that she gave Genya a slightly larger portion. Genya must have noticed, too, because he murmured another quiet, “Thank you.”
Most of the meal passed in silence. Nezuko softly blew on Takeo’s soup to cool it down. Genya finished his the fastest - he must have been really hungry - and cautiously asked for seconds, which Kie graciously provided.
After the soup was completely gone, Tanjiro revealed the ohagi. Takeo and Nezuko squealed in delight as Tanjiro handed them each a sweet. Genya looked at them with envy, but didn’t attempt to take them. Tanjiro grabbed the final ohagi and tore it in half, offering one part to Genya. The other boy stared at him in disbelief for a moment before accepting his offer.
“Tanjiro, go help Genya draw a bath,” Kie said. “Make sure to heat the water.”
Genya got to his feet, already shaking his head. “You don’t have to, honestly. Look, I’m sorry, I’ll just go-”
“Tanjiro, go do as your mother asked,” Tanjuro said. “We need to discuss a few things.”
Tanjiro nodded and took Genya by the hand once again, leading him to the back of the house. He pumped the barrel full of water and waited for it to heat up. Genya stood by his side, still completely silent.
“How old are you?” Tanjiro finally asked. “I’m almost seven, and I’m the eldest son.”
“Eight,” Genya replied, still looking a bit apprehensive. “Second eldest son.”
“You have an older brother?” Tanjiro asked, intrigued. “What’s he like? Oh, do you have younger siblings, too? What-”
His voice simmered out when he detected the scent of complete and utter sadness wafting off of Genya. He must have struck something painful. Oh, no. That’s not what he wanted.
“Well, uh, the water’s warmed up,” he said, quickly stepping back inside the house. “I can go get some of my spare clothes for you. We’re about the same size.”
He rushed back inside and into the bedroom. He pulled out his second set of clothes.
“Genya is nice,” Nezuko spoke up drowsily. Takeo was already asleep. “A little scary and shy, but also nice.”
Tanjiro was inclined to agree. Their parents were still talking in the main room. Tanjiro grabbed a towel and headed back to Genya.
When he got there, the water was still running.
“Genya, are you done?” Tanjiro called.
“Yeah, I- I think so.”
“Okay, I’m going to drain the barrel. Dry off and put the clothes on quickly so you don’t get cold. I won’t look, don’t worry.”
With that, Tanjiro pulled out the stopper from the bottom of the barrel and handed Genya the towel and spare clothes. A few minutes later, Genya scrambled out and to the ground. As he did so, Tanjuro and Kie approached them.
“Genya,” Tanjuro spoke up, his voice kind and soft. “I asked you before if your family knew you were here. I have another question. Do you have a family?”
Tanjiro tensed at the question, and tensed even more when Genya shook his head. But, didn’t he say that he was the second eldest son? Didn’t that mean he at least had an older brother?
Kie smiled, trying to reassure him. “Would you like to stay with us?” She asked.
“I- I didn’t mean to intrude,” Geyna murmured. “You already have a lot of kids and you’re gonna have a new baby. I don’t- I don’t want to be any trouble.”
“It won’t be any trouble,” Tanjuro assured him. “We always make sure to have room for one more. No child should be wandering in the snow by themselves.”
Genya still looked unsure.
“It’s okay,” Tanjiro piped in. “I’ve never had a big brother before. You’re older than me, so you can be my big brother.”
“If- If it really isn’t any trouble-”
Tanjiro cut him off with a hug. After a moment, Genya hugged back.
Tanjuro and Kie led the two boys back to the bedroom, where Nezuko had already fallen asleep side by side with Hanako. Genya and Tanjiro were set in futons next to each other.
“I… I don’t think I ever got your name,” Genya murmured softly.
“It’s Tanjiro Kamado.”
“Tanjiro… That’s… a nice name.”