Archive of Our Own

It's not that they're doing a bad job. Far from it. As he studies himself in the mirror, Tanjiro finds that he doesn't necessarily want them to stop. Compared to Uzui's rushed attempts to turn him into Sumiko at Yoshiwara – attempts that involved literally smashing Tanjiro's face into a plate of powder and then the swiping of thumbs across cheeks for bruised rather than blushing cheeks – Aoi and the other butterfly girls are not only more efficient but also way more effective at transforming Tanjiro into a decent facsimile of a girl.  His burn scars, left uncovered, are even comely on this version of himself. If he were to see this self out on the streets, he wouldn't look askance at her at all.

He wonders idly at how Rengoku would handle this transformation. The two of them are supposed to train together today and for the next few days, and Tanjiro can still hardly believe his luck that they have so much time aligned together for once. In fact, Tanjiro had been on his way to find the Flame Hashira when Shinobu and the butterfly girls had spotted him, herded him inside a private infirmary room, and began immediately on their strangely desperate makeover of him.

When his imaginings of Rengoku's reaction start and end with the man taking one glance at his new visage and laughing uproariously at him, Tanjiro decides he's better off focusing on more productive thoughts. Like how excited he is to find Rengoku as soon as the girls are done because he wants to show him how far he's come along recently – that he's one step closer to being a worthy tsuguko that'll not only help Nezuko become human again but also embody the man's strength and the principles he stands for.

It's simply what Rengoku deserves. Even if the Mugen Train incident had never happened, Tanjiro would still had worked hard for his sake because he is a honorable and skilled swordsman and a fine teacher who knows how to inspire. But now that he's seen exactly the lengths to which Rengoku will strive for justice and protect all around him, there is a fire in Tanjiro's heart that burns to be a beacon just like him. And if not a beacon, then his left eye – his shield.

Also, Tanjiro finds being around Rengoku as riveting and as warm as his father's Hinokami Kagura. Even if the person at the center doesn't inspire quite the same feelings his father did – feelings that Tanjiro has been loath to interrogate for some reason – there is little that is more calming or soothing than watching Rengoku go through his katas or even (loudly) enjoying a meal.

Yes, he really would like to see him soon.

"I wanted to let them practice."

Shinobu's voice breaks through Tanjiro's reverie, and when he comes back to the world, she gives him a small but secretive smile. "There might be more investigations that involve cross-dressing after all!"

Tanjiro tilts his head at the amused scent wafting from the woman, suddenly suspicious. As far as he knows, there haven't been any missions recently that require such subterfuge, near disastrous mission with Uzui aside. Not to mention that the Corps have a perfectly healthy amount of female demon slayers, who can presumably infiltrate demon nests as needed and far better than Tanjiro can.

"What do you mean by that?" He tries to dig for more, but her lips stay sealed while Aoi begins to expertly apply a blood red stain to his.

After Sumi evens out the coloring by having him gently mouth a small piece of paper, Tanjiro suddenly finds himself alone with Shinobu, who's exuding waves of utter glee at this point. By the time she picks up a white garment and hangs the oddly ponderous weight off of her arm, her joy pricks like needles in his nose.

"Lastly, I'll help you put this on! Naturally, the girls want to preserve your modesty, so it's just us here. I won't look, but you must cooperate with me to make this easier for you." Shinobu's smile is the widest he's seen yet.

"B-but," he sputters. "What are you making me wear? And why am I wearing this?"

"You'll see," she says, but doesn't elaborate. But as she brings the clothing closer to him, Tanjiro thinks he's seen the style before, although he can't pinpoint from where. It's a type of kimono, all white, in multiple layers, and expensive, too, judging from the smell, reminiscent of the silkworms he used to see at the tailor's house back in his village.

From experience, the sooner he complies, the sooner he'll get anywhere with Shinobu. Although he's supposed to meet with Rengoku, that'll have to wait for now. He takes off his uniform, careful to have his back to her the whole time.  As soon as he's down to his underclothes, Shinobu drapes one of the layers of the kimono onto him, and then wraps a band around him that loops over and over around his middle. Once that's cinched tight, the arduous process of layering and wrapping begins anew until Tanjiro feels like a cocoon.

When Shinobu is finally done, she turns him around to face the mirror, the scent of triumph spilling into his nostrils.

Only then does he realize.

"Shinobu-san, why am I wearing a wedding kimono?"

The rich details had thrown him off, but now he calls to mind his mother reverently laying out her shiromuku – much plainer than the one he has on by far, but no less precious – so that her children can revisit her cherished memories of their father. A lump grows in his throat.

"Why, this is part of today's investigation," Shinobu smiles sweetly. "I have to say Tanjiro-kun, you do make a very convincing bride."

"Wait, I thought all this makeup and dress-up was practice?" His mind is beginning to whirl with possibilities, none of which make sense. "What am I going to be doing that I need to wear this? I can hardly move!" Indeed Tanjiro's feet – which Shinobu somehow managed to clad in appropriate bridal zori at some point – can only shuffle a few inches at a time. "How can I even fight without ruining the shiromuku?"

"Tan. Ji. Ro." The woman's serenity turns brittle and the smell of something acrid fills the air. "If you even think of fighting in this, not even my skills as a healer will save you."

He can only vigorously nod in response.

Then the air returns to normal and Shinobu continues. "You really don't need to do much. In a few minutes, Aoi and the other girls are going to come in with the object of our inquiry. All you need to do is just present yourself as you are." She winks and smiles at him, seemingly to comfort.

All Tanjiro feels is abject confusion.

It is rare for both of them to overlap for long at the Butterfly Mansion, but as far as Kyojuro knows, they actually have the next few days to themselves for just training. Hopefully it's enough time for Kyojuro to see how his tsuguko has fared in his recent missions and to respond with an appropriate regimen to further the boy's abilities.

Another part of Kyojuro also simply enjoys Kamado's presence. It is refreshing to be around someone who possesses such a passion for self-improvement, not to mention such overwhelming love for their family. Every time he sees Kamado and and his sister together – and he has since apologized for his role in her trial – his heart sings with joy at their steadfast bond, able even to cross the barriers between demons and humans. Kamado has even been the catalyst for his own family slowly coming together once more, with his father having not touched drink in months and Senjuro no longer shrinking away from Shinjuro as often. He does not know if they will ever return to the easy laughter and banter prior to his mother's death, but this has been more than he hoped for in years.

Yet Kyojuro's heart burns for Kamado whenever he delves deeper into his history – remembers that Nezuko is all the boy has left in the world, that a bright and vibrant family had been cut down for what? Because Muzan capriciously decided that someone should suffer for having been so loved? He does not anger easily but there is nothing to feel but that after hearing the boy's story.

But though there should be more darkness, more bitterness in Kamado for all that life has dealt him, the boy has always held his head up high and looked forward. Life does not stop even in grief – this they both know.

Still, his tsuguko's pain is now his, and even if he cannot fathom there being a way to turn demons back into humans, he will try because Kamado deserves it.

And there again lies the question: where is the boy?

But before he can attend to the question, Kyojuro notices a group of girls coming from down the hallway, seemingly honing in on him. He stills, deciding to let them come to him.

Once they are close enough, a rather stern girl in pigtails pauses in front of him, halting the others behind her.

"Kocho-san requests your presence, Flame Hashira." She is composed, if a bit stiff.

"Does she now?" Kyojuro tilts his head toward the seeming leader of the girls. "Did she say why?"

For a moment, her face reddens but then snaps back into a cool demeanor. Interesting, he notes, attention suitably diverted from the subject of Kamado for now.

"No, but she says it'll be worth your while."

Meanwhile, the other girls – three of them, too similar for him to pick one out reliably from the others – quickly bob their heads behind her.

"Kocho normally doesn't call me out like this, so lead the way," Kyojuro says.

The Insect Hashira, while not distant toward him, normally doesn't ask for him without reason, so he wonders what'll be in store. Perhaps a new poison that she wants him to field test? A special kind of training device that'll help with building his technique? Maybe even special rations that'll last longer and taste better than the current ones?

It's with these thoughts that he waits patiently in front of one of the private infirmary rooms while Kanzaki seeks permission from Kocho to step inside. He senses another person there with her but quickly assumes that they're an assistant. Even as the other butterfly girls start to mumble and giggle amongst themselves, Kyojuro has little cause to suspect anything untoward going on inside the room.

Not even when Kocho slides open the shoji, smiles treacly at him, and says, "Thank you for coming! Tanjiro-kun is here by the way. Would you like to see him?"

What good fortune! So this visit hasn't been a complete diversion from his search for the boy after all.

"Of course –"

His words quickly die on his tongue once Kocho steps aside.

"R-rengoku-san!" A voice that is unmistakably the boy's slips out from between red, red lips. Unconsciously Kyojuro traces their shape and sheen. "I wasn't expecting to see you here like this!" Kamado sounds sheepish, as if he's merely been caught taking a snack he's not supposed to. "I was going to find you right when I got to the mansion but –"

Then Kamado abruptly turns to Kocho and says disbelievingly, "You wanted to study Rengoku-san?"

Kyojuro supposes that there is a significance to that question he should be paying attention to, but quite honestly, he doesn't care right now.

Kamado is a vision.

Whoever made up Kamado's face knew exactly how to coax out his best qualities, make them shine impossibly brighter. His forehead scars, ever assertive, are now a splash of elegant burgundy upon a pale tableau. Those crimson eyes that Kyojuro always took comfort in – such determination, such fervor – are now outlined in striking black and red, and though they still soothe, he knows they will also scald if he stares for too long. Whitened cheeks that are lightly rouged contrast against lips dipped in deepest red, which gleam as if to tempt him closer. And take a step closer, he does, until he is standing just inches away.

Then there is the shiromuku, looking for all the world like it was made just for Kamado, layers perfectly fitted and bound to his lean form. Wrapped like the precious present he would make to the one that would have him, even if he refuses to think of anyone else having him, a burst of jealousy that he does not care to analyze at the moment. The stark white, rather than washing out his features, only makes clear that each and every one of Kamado's features is there to ensnare and beguile his groom.

And while he is no groom today, Kyojuro is thoroughly charmed.

As Kamado turns again to Kyojuro, he catches the man staring and lets out a small laugh. "I know, it's very elaborate. I understand if it's funny seeing me dressed like this, but everybody did work hard on dressing me up, so I would appreciate it if you didn't laugh that hard."

Kyojuro releases a breath he hadn't known he had been holding in until now. But there is no laughter forthcoming because what is there to laugh about? All he sees is a beautiful tsuguko, who has chosen today to make him all too aware of how he has missed that fact until now. But there are no words from him either because what can he say when the weight of revelation rests so heavily on his tongue?

He finds himself turning red, and when he catches Kocho trying to hide a smirk behind a hand, he burns more deeply. So this is what she wanted from him this whole time?

"Is... everything okay?" Kamado asks, after several moments too long of silence. "You smell... nervous? And embarrassed?"

Belatedly, Kyojuro remembers that his tsuguko can literally smell what he is feeling. A truly interesting and advantageous talent for the boy to have, except for now.

Hurt flashes quickly through Kamado's eyes, but Kyojuro notices all the same.

"If this is making you uncomfortable, Rengoku-san, then I sincerely apologize," Kamado says, bowing awkwardly due to the stiff fabric of the shiromuku. Always quick to be accountable, even when things are clearly not his fault.

And it is this realization that makes Kyojuro finally pull himself together long enough to shout, "No!"

How can Kyojuro look himself in the mirror if he lets his tsuguko feel pain and guilt for his own shortcomings? Has he not watched his father almost destroy his family by doing the same? How can he call himself the Flame Hashira if he can't even speak truth to when his heart has been set ablaze?

He clasps Kamado's shoulders, causing the boy's head to pop up in shock at the sudden contact.

"Do not apologize, my boy!" Rengoku squeezes him for emphasis and for reassurance. "Your appearance shocked me, but not in a way that would make me laugh."

He swallows a hard lump of nerves down before continuing. "In fact, you are incredibly stunning right now!"

When Shinobu had told him seconds before sliding open the shoji that Rengoku would be arriving, Tanjiro had been surprised to say the least.

But then he immediately braced himself for a fit of laughter – how else would Rengoku react to his tsuguko being suddenly dressed up in such fine wedding regalia and a shiromuku at that – and nothing more than that. To expect anything else...  Was he supposed to? Anyway, entertaining other possibilities seemed only a waste of time.

But then Rengoku had stepped in and completely upended the script.

A long silence from the normally energetic and loud hashira. An unerring stare – not unfamiliar  – aimed directly at Tanjiro – very unfamiliar. The intermingled scents of surprise and nervousness, so foreign coming from the same man who smelled only of courage and determination while fighting an Upper Rank 3 demon, even after losing an eye and on the verge of death.

This idea of Shinobu's, whimsical but ultimately harmless, now seems anything but in light of such a reception.

Tanjiro would have rather Rengoku had laughed directly at his face. At least it would have made sense. At least it wouldn't make his insides clench in pain that he really shouldn't be feeling or even admitting to feeling.

But then Rengoku had grabbed his shoulders and opened his mouth and said... that.

Stunning.

And when he sees the man's flushed cheeks and smells an unfamiliar yet comforting scent wafting from him, Tanjiro softens.

"T-thank you. I'm grateful." He meets Rengoku's gaze fully and likes what he sees within his bright eyes.

"Good, my boy. And if you ever want to dress up again, you can – you can show me!"

His cheeks are so warm and he's not sure how he's supposed to train with Rengoku later without feeling so aware. Even Shinobu and the butterfly girls are openly gawking at the Flame Hashira's last words.

But whatever is taking place between them, even if there is no name for it yet, he now knows that both of them welcome it.

Tanjiro can't help but smile back at Rengoku.

"Yes, Rengoku-san!"

"And what exactly are you thanking me for?"

A few beats of silence pass.

"...He is lovely."

"He is, Rengoku-san."

Kocho smiles, but Kyojuro notices easily the wistful slant to it.

"You deserve all the happiness you can get in this life. You have another chance, unlike many others."

She does not need to spell out the reason why – her family history is well known.

"Thank you."

When Kyojuro leaves her quarters to retire to bed, his head is filled with plans for Kamado and himself over the next few days.