Chapter Text
“Hey, brat. Wake up.”
The blond mumbles what he hopes comes out as “…don wanna.” Close enough. He turns over in his bed, pulls the covers over his head and ignores the loud tch the older boy lets out at his words.
A moment passes and he smiles under the warmth of his comforter when he hears the other boy's footsteps grow further from his bed.
Unfortunately, before he’s able to fall back into a peaceful sleep he hears his brother’s stomping return, and his comforter is ripped off his bed entirely.
“Aniki!” He whines, goosebumps breaking out over his body. “I’m tired.”
“Wake the hell up! You’ve been lazing around for the past year!” Zenitsu opens his mouth to interject, but gets cut off when Kaigaku continues. “The old man is worried enough about you as is. If you don’t go today I’ll send you back to the hospital my damn self.”
Zenitsu shakes his head frantically, feeling tears slip out of his eyes in his panic, “No! Nope! I’m alright! I haven’t been able to go to school in so long, Aniki!” He grabs the sleeve of the other boy’s uniform and puts on his best pleading face. The braces made it harder to pull off the pout when he’d first got them put on, but he’d gotten it mostly figured out after a while. Unfortunately It doesn’t have as much effect with the tears already streaming down his face, but the other boy now seems to be less annoyed and more exasperated.
He’d been hospitalized for a few months at the tail end of his last year in middle school—following his being struck by lightning and the plethora of other problems that had caused. Muscle spasms, headaches, he’d lost feeling in both his arms and legs at some point and gained it back, though the tingling and pain never really went away entirely. Lichtenburg scars ran down his back, spreading to the backs of his limbs. There had been some on his face, but they'd managed to get the scars to fade quite a bit. He still liked to cover those with a touch of concealer though. Just because they were barely visible didn’t mean they weren’t visible at all. He’d missed an entire year of school and the start of a new one and...the blond hair was..well. He’d meant to dye it, but never really got around to doing so, hopefully it wouldn’t garner any unnecessary attention.
Above him, his older brother sighed and put a hand on his head, ruffling his hair. The action snapped him out of his thoughts, and he pushed at the older boy’s hand.
“Stop that, It’s messy enough as is!”
“Whatever.” The other pulled away and turned to walk down the hall. Just as the door shut, it opened once again, though not completely. “Food’s on the table.” Kaigaku spoke quietly, but loud enough for Zenitsu to hear—not that he needed the extra help—and it brought a small smile to his face. The door shut once again.
He dragged himself out of bed proper, picked up the comforter and got to remaking it. After placing his stuffed animals back as well, he grabs the new uniform he was given. He pulls on the slacks, buttons up the shirt and fixes the tie before he makes his way over to the bathroom. He’s just finished dabbing the concealer over the scars on his face when he hears a loud yell come from the direction of the kitchen. He gathers his things quickly, running back to his room to grab his bag and makes his way back to the kitchen, and by then the presumed argument between his older brother and grandfather had already been settled.
The house they gramps lived in had an older style to it, and so the walls were pretty thin; paired with his good hearing, let's just say he didn’t miss out on many of the arguments Gramps and Kaigaku had. It was weird that he hadn’t managed to pick up much other than the loud “No” he’d heard from Kaigaku while he was getting dressed. The other two had managed to keep a relatively low volume.
Odd.
They two sat rather (suspiciously) quietly at the table, his gramps having already eaten his share well before Zenitsu had woken up, and Kaigaku finishing off his miso soup. The blond took his seat at the table cautiously—they’d apparently gotten the dining room floors redone to match the hardwood in the kitchen and switched out the traditional low table for a taller one with chairs after he’d been struck, to make it easier for him they’d said—and picked up his own bowl of rice.
He’d almost finished off all his food, and was trying to subtly push the rice from under the wires in his mouth by the time his gramps spoke. His words were firm with a no-nonsense sort of tone when he said, “Kaigaku will be walking you to class.”
“What?!”
One train ride later, Zenitsu found himself walking up to the high school building on campus, followed by Kaigaku. Apparently the college and high school shared the same campus—sort of. The high school students were mostly separate from the college students, but there were a few joint buildings and classes. Gramps used this fact to justify sending him off with Kaigaku, even though both him and his brother agree it was excessive to go all the way to his classroom together.
A few feet away from the entrance, the raven haired boy stopped and turned to look at him.
“You have your meds?” He asked.
“Nurse’s office.”
“Classroom?”
“1-B.”
“And you’re sure you feel okay?”
Zenitsu held back the urge to sigh. Kaigaku had started to soften up once he got a bit older, but that didn’t mean he was all sunshine and rainbows. Best not to agitate him.
“I’m fine, and I’ll be careful I promise.”
After a moment, the older one nodded in approval, patted him on the head and then walked off.
“See ya.”
Zenitsu smiled at the boy’s back.
He wasn’t ok.
Not that he was doing terrible, but he wasn’t feeling very well either.
It wasn’t anything too bad, like the muscle spasms and numbness that’d come with his more serious flare-ups. He’d made it through introducing himself just fine, sitting at a desk by the window. The real problem introduced itself when the teacher stepped out for a few minutes, and the girl who introduced herself as an upcoming teacher herself—and therefore would be staying with their class for the year to get firsthand experience—started talking.
First off, the girl was gorgeous. Seriously. The pink mochi colored hair with green tips at the ends tied into three neat braids only added to her beauty. Long lashes, and a mole under each eye. Her voice was cute too, and she seemed to be pretty nice. However, currently, her cute voice was getting to be just a touch too loud for his sensitive ears, and his classmates’ chatter on top of that wasn’t doing anything for his steadily growing headache. It seemed that anything that had to do with love would get her going, and while Zenitsu would’ve normally been just as excited when it came to the topic, the noise level was getting to be a bit much.
She seemed to be pretty out of it until the teacher stepped out, and one of the other students asked her what was up. The girl proceeded to break into tears and start talking about how her prospective marriage had been broken because—
“Listen up class!” The young woman cried, “If a man ever leaves you because he doesn’t like his eggs fried sunny-side up,” she grabs the pointer the teacher had left behind, “then he was never good enough for you to begin with!” As if the outburst hadn’t been enough to quell her anger, she snaps the pointer in her hands as well, and the loud noise sends him spiraling further, well past the threshold of being overwhelmed. He’s rummaging through his bag for his pair of noise-canceling headphones (that he now realizes he’d left at home) when he hears the most beautiful sound coming from someone entering the room.
He snaps his head up in the direction of the door, his eyes tearing up a bit unwillingly. By now the rest of the class has quieted down quite a bit, and the boy who’d walked in with their teacher is…walking towards him?! Contrary to his expectations, the boy sits at the desk next to him. Zenitsu can’t help but stare at him through his bangs.
Dark maroon colored hair that looks red at the tips in sunlight, an old scar on his forehead, hanafuda earrings, and most importantly—a sound so beautiful it makes him want to cry.
The redhead turns to look at him, cracking a smile. Zenitsu jumps, his face burning red, not expecting to be caught in his staring. He turns away from the other boy, and notices the smile on his face fall from the corner of his eye, for what reason, he’s not quite sure. Normally he can get a feel for people’s emotions pretty easily through their sound, but that’s only as reliable as his relationship with the other when it comes to more complex emotions. The other boy proves to be easy to read this time around however—is that concern? Why?
He turns to look back at the other boy, but by then the redhead’s sound has gone back to the calm lull it’d been when he stepped into the classroom. And without the distraction, Zenitsu remembers his pulsing headache that seems to be getting worse by the moment. He stands, ignoring the odd spike in the other boy’s sound again and makes his way over to Himejima’s desk.
“Could I go to the nurse? I need to take medicine.”
The man turns in his direction, nodding. “Of course, do you know where it is?”
He shook his head, then spoke “No.” realizing that the man wouldn’t be able to see the action. The older man hummed, turning back towards the class. “Kamado,” he called out, and the redhead from earlier caught his eye for a moment before turning to their teacher. “Could you show Agatsuma to the nurse please?”
“Yes!” The boy stood and walked over to him, motioning toward the door. Zenitsu followed him out of the classroom.
Their walk was silent for a bit, save for the redhead humming a popular tune he was sure he could only recognize because of his exceptional hearing(the other boy’s singing was terribly off-key). He never asked the other boy to stop however.
“Sorry for the commotion in class earlier,” the kindhearted boy starts, “Mitsuri-san gets pretty worked up when it comes to her love life,” he chuckles a bit, “she’s very she’s very kind though, and very helpful! I think you’ll like it here.”
“Hope so.” The blond muttered, unable to muster up his usual energy. He immediately cringes at his blunt reply, his gaze briefly dropping to his feet in embarrassment. When he looks back up though, the other boy seems just as cheerful as ever.
“Agatsuma-san right?” The redhead asked. The blond nodded slightly, head aching far too much to do little else. The other boy seemed unfazed, still smiling. Even after the short conversation had ended, Zenitsu continued to feel the other’s eyes on him.
The blond felt nauseous at the attention, remembering the stares he used to get. He shuddered a bit involuntarily, his previously lax posture tightening up as he held his arms closer to him. The staring didn’t let up. “What?” He bit out, a bit harsher than he’d intended to. The other boy jumped at the tone. “Sorry! It’s just-uh. Your hair—“
Zenitsu groaned, muttering an annoyed “of course,” under his breath
“—is really pretty!”
His head snapped up at light speed—to which he winced at—disbelief surely written all over his face. He couldn’t care to hide it at the moment. Nobody had ever said that before.
The other boy rambled on, unaware of the emotions stirring in the older. “It looks so soft! And the color really suits your skin tone!” Zenitsu sees the other boy’s hand twitch at his side and his disbelief grows further. And his sound. It was so earnest, there wasn’t a single sign that proved the other was lying or poking fun at him, no. He was genuinely complimenting him. Zenitsu’s stomach did a flip, his heart rate speeding up. He could feel his cheeks warm.
The blond freezes in his spot, the other boy walking ahead, not having realized the other had stopped.
The redhead sighed, a hand carding through his own curly locks. “I wish mine was that well behaved…Nezuko’s dyed her hair before,” the blond raised a brow at the sudden name drop, “—and it looked amazing, don't get me wrong! But it didn’t look as natural as yours does, if that makes sense? Do you have any product recommendations—Agatsuma-san?” The redhead stops finally, realizing the other had lagged behind. He walks back toward him, and all Zenitsu can focus on is that kind heartbeat as it came closer again.
“Agatsuma-san? Are you okay?”
He swallows, shaking his head to snap himself out of it. At the other boy’s worried gasp, he quickly corrects himself, “Yes! I’m fine! We can keep going!” He starts walking again at a rather fast pace, even though he has no idea where he’s going. The redhead is quick to catch up however, opening his mouth to—probably—apologize again. The blond isn’t having it, cutting the other off before the words have a chance to come out of his mouth.
“First off, it’s not hair dye, I was struck by lightning.” He ignores the loud gasp at that, and continues on, rattling on about his hair care routine, and products he uses. At some point the other boy had pulled out his phone and started taking notes. He snorts at the other’s behavior. “Does that answer your question?”
The other boy nods fervently, “Absolutely, thank you, Agatsuma—“
“Just Zenitsu is fine!” He quickly interjects.
The redhead’s smile from earlier—that’d never really gone away in the first place (seriously, how does one manage to keep up a smile for so long?)—returns in full force, “You can call me Tanjiro then, Zenitsu!”
The blond smiled, not as bright as the boy in front of him, but it got the message across.
“Oh!” Tanjiro exclaimed, stopping suddenly “Here we are! The nurse’s office is just up ahead.” Tanjiro gestured to the door a few feet in front of them. “If Shinobu-san isn’t in there, Kanao should be able to help. I’ll wait for you outside!”
Zenitsu nodded, stepping into the nurse’s office.
Upon entering, he was met with a girl—likely around his age—who seemed to be reorganizing shelves. Her long black hair had been pulled into one neat side-pony with a butterfly clip, save for the bangs of course. She moved with an air of elegance to her, every movement slow and well thought out. Her sound was a bit muted however…though he couldn’t quite put his finger on why.
“And you are?” Magenta eyes so intense it felt like she could see straight through to his soul bore into him, and he flinched back from the girl who’d suddenly come so close. (For a moment, he’d been reminded of the redhead he’d been walking with moments prior, their eyes had almost the same sort of intensity to them—though slightly different.) He must’ve been really distracted not to notice…though it wasn’t a surprise. He’d always been like this around anyone he considered to be so—well, attractive. He struggled to compose himself, looking from the girl's eyes that made him strangely nervous to the skirt of the school uniform she wore, eventually he settled on looking slightly past her face at the butterfly clip on the side of her head. “Agatsuma!” His own voice startled him, and the girl as well if her widened eyes meant anything. She raised a brow at him, and he floundered to continue, face beet red. “I mean! My name, it’s Agatsuma Zenitsu.” She nodded slowly, backing away with a hum. “Weird name.” He winced, not the first time he’s been told that. Somehow the comment didn’t do anything to cool him down, his face still burning at the memory of the girl's face so close to his. She was really pretty.
While he was lost in thought, the other girl had gone back over to the medicine cabinet she'd been rearranging and pulled out a bottle of pills. “You have a headache.” She’d said so in such a confident tone that he didn’t dare question how she’d figured it out so quickly. Still flustered he reached for the container, shaking out the appropriate dosage. “..yeah. Thanks.” The girl simply nodded again, holding out a cup of water. He took the small cup gratefully, finally downing the pill.
“Throw the cup away on the way out, come again if you need anything, Agatsuma-san.” The girl bowed neatly before turning away. He nodded fervently even though she wouldn’t be able to see it. “I will!”
“Zenitsu,” Tanjiro looked at him, worried expression set on his face, “your face looks really red, are you okay?”
He would be if the other boy would stop coming so close with that heartbeat of his. Zenitsu was sure that if the other had been a girl his behavior with the other would’ve been just as embarrassing as it was with the girl from earlier. Since that wasn’t the case of course, it wasn’t the reason the blush on his face had persisted all throughout their walk back to the classroom. He was simply recovering from being in the presence of absolute beauty. He sighed wistfully.
“Tanjiro,” he drawled, drawing out the last syllable and dramatically leaning on the other's shoulder.
“Zenitsu! Do you need to lay down?”
“…number” the blond mumbled. Tanjiro unable to pick up the low volume of his voice asked, “What was that?”
The blond shot back up, grabbing the redhead’s hands. “Give me her number. You said her name earlier—so you two must be close right? Please.” The younger boy’s face looked an odd mix of scandalized and incredulous. After realizing that Zenitsu had been entirely serious about his request, his face hardened, though it still held the same smile as always—just a bit more intense. “No! Ask her yourself.”
“Tanjirooo—“
“Focus on getting back to class, Zenitsu.” Tanjiro responded for the last time, ignoring the whines of the blond behind him. While this normally would’ve deterred Zenitsu entirely, he could tell the other wasn’t entirely opposed to his presence, the annoyance he could hear from the other was surface level at best, and he could hear the soft chuckle the other had let out at his antics every now and then.
After meeting Tanjiro that first day, everything else seemed to fall perfectly into place. He’d memorized the route to most of his classes within two weeks, and even made a few acquaintances here and there—though he opted to have his lunches with Tanjiro and Inosuke. He’d met the other boy on the third day, back when Tanjiro had asked if they wanted to eat together. Apparently there was another person he would usually sit with and thinking nothing of it, Zenitsu had agreed. After all, Tanjiro was a nice, chill guy, so surely the people he hung around would be the same.
“Monjiro!” The green-eyed boy yelled with a mouth full of food. Zenitsu’s own warning to keep the volume down went ignored, “Give me your tempura!” Tanjiro, a saint, merely smiled serenely at the.
“Ok!” The redhead nodded, grabbing a napkin and carefully picking out half of his own sharing to give to the other. “I had mom pack extra, since it's your favorite. You should have Hisa-san make you some.” Inosuke’s eyes widened with glee, finally realizing that he could ask for his own instead of leeching off the other. Not that Tanjiro seemed to mind, he was far too nice.
Inosuke had a damn pretty face, he would give him that much. His hair was annoyingly long and well kept, and his skin was incredibly soft looking, almost feminine aside from the slightly sharper jawline, but even that did nothing to deter his beauty. It still didn’t excuse the disgusting manners—or lack thereof—that the boy displayed.
Zenitsu sighed, lamenting the boy’s beautiful face for the umpteenth time that week and the stark contrast to the behavior he was currently displaying beside him.
They were currently going over stretches, preparing to play a game of volleyball, a normal routine occurrence in their physical education class.
What wasn’t normal was how far this guy was taking said stretches. In fact, he wasn’t even really doing the same stretches anymore. Legs pulled far over his head from the back, a smile was wide on the boy’s face and cackles fell from his lips.
Within a few more minutes of stretching, they filled into the court as per Mr.Giyuu’s orders. The current teacher for physical education was someone from the college, and as someone younger, had requested they refer to him by first name.
Of course, nobody did as such. The only reason Zenitsu had gotten used to the name was because of the odd fondness with which the redhead would say it. The two seemed rather close. Aside from that, the man had a face that was far too scary for his age, and he took his job far too seriously. For only 21, he was surprisingly strict on the students when it came to things like dress code and such. Zenitsu had gotten an earful himself over his hair color, despite the fact that the man should have been informed beforehand of his situation—it was his natural color! Sure, he’d been considering dyeing it black at the start of the school year anyway, but…nobody else seemed to mind it as much. He’d been able to make friends anyways.
“Hashibira,” The blue eyed man spoke, eyeing him and Inosuke, interrupting their glaring contest. “Switch sides with Kamado. You and Agatsuma can’t be trusted.”
“Hah?” Inosuke
Zenitsu let out a breath. Thank the gods.
The last time he and Inosuke ended up on the same team together, they’d ended up having some petty argument (that was started by Inosuke, to be clear. Zenitsu took his classes very seriously!) and they’d both ended up put on the sidelines. Which of course came with a lowered grade for the day, along with an earful from Giyuu himself.
Zenitsu took a steadying breath, positioned in the back and ready to catch the ball if needed, though he hoped he wouldn’t have much work cut out for himself. Giyuu had been made more privy to his physical condition—for obvious reasons—so he always had the option of sitting out for the day. One that he was always greatful, and would be taking more often if not for the redhead’s sweet smile dropping anytime Zenitsu seemed the slightest bit uncomfortable. The first few times he’d sat out of class for the day, the other boy’s sound would become so overcome with worry that Zenitsu simply couldn’t relax, the noise grating on his sensitive ears. Ever since the time Tanjiro had gotten decked in the face by a basketball due to his distraction, Zenitsu had vowed not to sit out unless he really needed it. Besides, the extra exercise could only do him good.
He ignored the dull pang of the headache that’d persisted throughout the morning. He would be just fine, after all, nothing bad had happened in the past two months since he’d started school again.
At the sound of the whistle, both teams moved. Not surprisingly, Inosuke was the one to spike on the other team.
What was surprising however, was how off track the ball ended up being. The other boy must’ve hit the ball wrong, because it was headed straight for him and not the ground.
The ball was…headed straight for him?!
The blond tried to raise his arms, he really did, but no matter how fast he prided himself on being, the ball was that much faster. The last thing he remembers is the feeling of strong arms lifting him. He nods the best he can through the throbbing pain spreading through his skull, and promptly blacks out.
He wakes up to the sound of a familiar heartbeat next to him, and he blearily opens his eyelids.
What greats him is a sight that has his heart speeding up in his chest a little, though he doesn’t quite know why. That…only happened when he was around a pretty girl. But this—this was Tanjiro.
Tanjiro, whose hair shone in the sun. Tanjiro, who seemed to glow with the soft light of the sun shining through the window in the nurses’ office. Tanjiro, whose hands, rough with hard work, suddenly seemed as if they’d be the softest to hold. Tanjiro, who was the nicest boy he’d ever met.
Tanjiro, with a sound so kind, it brought tears to his eyes.
His heart thumped. Zenitsu swallowed, face heating up.
As the blonde stewed in his epiphany, the boy at his bedside stirred awake as well.
“Zenitsu!,” The redhead exclaims. The aforementioned jolts, panicked eyes shooting up from the wooden earrings to the wide eyes boring into his own. “…are you okay? Sorry, I forgot your ears were sensitive.” Tanjiro asks, in a quieter voice this time around.
“Y-yeah. I’m fine.” The blond answers meekly, turning to look away from the other boy and out the window. The sky seems just a bit darker, the sun’s rays resembling the tips of his own brightly colored hair, and he realizes that nobody is outside anymore. He must’ve been out long enough for classes to end.
“Are you sure? Your face looks all red again.” And then he feels a hand brushing his bangs aside to rest on his forehead. He looks back up into those kind eyes again, and this time his heart feels like it's going to fall out of his chest. What the hell?
He pulls the other boy’s hand away from his face, fast as lightning, and laughs nervously. “Haha! It-it’s probably just because I got hit. In the face.” The other boy’s sound falls from the usual tune, and Zenitsu feels like he’s done something wrong, even though he really hadn’t. It was only a partial lie after all, his head did still hurt a little from taking that hit to the face.
Silence.
“Shinobu-san said you skipped out on your meds today.” Tanjiro spoke, after a moment. “…and that you came in this morning because of a headache.” Zenitsu nodded, swallowing guiltily.
He always did, on the days they had PE. They made him tired, too tired to participate sometimes, so he’d had a habit of skipping even if he’d be better off with it. It’d never been much of a problem because by the end of class he could always just stop by and take them then, but he’d woken up feeling like shit to begin with today. A mistake on his part.
He tells the boy as much, wringing his hands in nervousness as he waits for a response. When the silence stretches too long he takes a deep breath, and decides to add, “I just want to be normal, Tanjiro.” The confession seems to shock the other, but he pays him no heed, feeling compelled to keep talking. This is the first time he’s talked to anyone about it, anyone outside of his immediate family that is. "It's hard to do that when I feel like this all the time.” He flexes his hands, the action drawing the redhead’s attention to what he knows are the lichtenberg scars that run along the backs of his palms. “I'm tired of being in pain, and I'm tired of not doing things I want to do just to avoid more pain.” And I don’t like hearing you sound so worried. Goes unspoken.
A moment later, once he realizes what he’s blabbed off about, he scrambles to bring the mood back. “You’re right though! I shouldn’t—“ the words die on his lips as he looks back up to the redhead’s face.
There were tears on his face. Real, actual tears. Distantly, he realizes he’s never seen the Kamado cry before.
He’s crying? Crying? Oh god what do I do??
The gears in his brain are working overdrive trying to salvage the situation. His hands twitch awkwardly in mid air, unable to decide on finishing the action to soothe the other boy. Luckily for him, Tanjiro raises his own hands, rubbing roughly at his face.
“Don’t…don’t be so rough—you’ll rub your eyes raw at that rate!” Zenitsu chides.
Tanjiro ignores his comment, continuing to rub the tears away before he looks back up at him, a resolute expression on his face.
“I see.” Is what the redhead finally says. The blond tilts his head.
“So you’ve been skipping out on your meds to hang out with us in school.”
“Uh, yeah, I guess?”
Tanjiro nods his head. Bringing a hand to his chin as if in thought.
“I don’t follow, what are you getting at?”
A moment later, the smiles again with an, “aha!” That follows, as if he’d had an epiphany of sorts.
“You should come over then!”
Zenitsu blinks.
“Come over?”
“To my house of course!” Tanjiro smiles as sweetly as ever, completely unaware of the absolute mess he’d just made of the other boy’s heart.