Chapter Text
He only sees Rengoku in dreams now.
They're not very long at first. By the time Tanjiro swallows down the tears long enough to make his way to him – back always facing Tanjiro – he gets only a few moments to glance at the man's exuberant smile before the image fades and Tanjiro awakes with his heart seized by a rhythm that is too fast, too violent.
If only he had avoided being stabbed.
If only he had been better at using Total Concentration: Constant to stop the bleeding.
If only he had been faster, before Akaza's arm had gone through –
Another life that goes on his ledger of regrets and hypotheticals.
The first few times Tanjiro had woken up after seeing Rengoku, Zenitsu – forgoing his daytime flailing – had whispered calming words into his ear and patted his shoulder until Tanjiro was able to go back to sleep.
Now Zenitsu simply puts his hand on Tanjiro's and goes back to sleep. They don't talk about it in the morning.
After Yoshiwara though, the dreams begin to change.
It's subtle at first. One night, the distance between them seems smaller, fewer steps needed to reach Rengoku and see his ever present dream-smile. In another dream, Tanjiro finds Rengoku looking up at the sky instead of the sunset in front of him. In yet another, he can see Rengoku's right eye turned toward him from the start.
It's only when the differences accumulate that they slam into Tanjiro with the fury of Rengoku's Flame Breathing.
"My boy, come sit next to me!"
Since when did Rengoku-san become able to speak?
He even pats the space next to him and suddenly Tanjiro realizes that they have always been on a beach facing a blindingly clean sea.
But Tanjiro pretends to take it in stride – shoves the shock aside for the moment. Because the man's sure voice is a balm during these turbulent times, and he needs something to hold on, even if it's as ephemeral as this vision.
It's as if as the fights get harder and the stakes ever higher, Rengoku knows exactly what Tanjiro needs to help him push through.
So he sits with the Flame Hashira and speaks – he doesn't remember what about for that is the nature of dreams – but when he awakes, this time in the morning, he is smiling and for once, his heart feels incredibly light.
The grief doesn't go away overnight – Tanjiro still has to resist crying whenever he sees the flickering edges of the man's bright hair and haori. But over time, the edges begin to smooth out. Even if Rengoku will never come back in life, he is still here for Tanjiro.
"What's on your mind, my boy?"
"I'm sure you and Nezuko are trying your best. How is your training?"
"Isn't the sea beautiful in the sunset?"
Tanjiro answers all of his questions and more. He speaks quickly – though respectfully – because he can never be sure when he'll be thrust into waking. He asks Rengoku how he's feeling and updates him on how his father and brother are doing (and despite the shame he feels about it, decides to also be honest about headbutting the former). He tries to show him how far he's coming along with Sun Breathing, because here he can be the tsuguko Rengoku had always wanted.
Rengoku often doesn't say much. He smiles and nods and hmms in the right places, says "That's great!" or "That sounds wonderful, my boy!" or other vague words that nonetheless fit the context. Maybe that's because of a limit on how much a dream can achieve, which makes all too much sense. Even so, Tanjiro speaks and hopes for the best because really, there is nothing to lose by doing so. If one day he stops dreaming of Rengoku, then that'll hurt of course, but he won't treat it as a second death.
After all, he could have easily never had these dreams in the first place.
The thought comforts him. Yes, these dreams are precious and he finds himself looking forward to them more and more. He thinks of how one night, he'll finally get to hold a full conversation with Rengoku. But at the end of the day, he knows that they are only dreams and that he'll get exactly what he puts into them. He knows better about compartmentalizing. He knows the weight of Rengoku's ashes in his hands.
Yet for all his knowledge, Tanjiro slips.
The revelation comes not in a dream but in the waking world, shortly after Tanjiro wakes up, an especially wide smile on his face this morning.
He had gotten Rengoku to talk more and not just talk more, to talk about his family! How his mother had been the cornerstone of their small family and how when she had died, how quickly things had disintegrated. How Rengoku had taken his mother's words to heart and tried to protect everybody, including his father and brother. How Senjuro had tried his hardest to be Rengoku's first tsuguko but both of them knew it wasn't meant to be.
But oh, how Rengoku still loved his family, a love that Tanjiro knows bone deep. There's nothing like snuggling your siblings or seeing the smile on your mother's face for a job well done. Even when things seem irreparable or impossible, such unconditional love makes getting up to try worth it. Whenever Tanjiro begins to tire, he needs only look at Nezuko to remember that his life is not just for himself but also for her. Without her, he does not know where or what he will be.
So hearing Rengoku speak so passionately about his family, about being the eldest son – Tanjiro had wanted to bottle up the comforting smell of a winter's night fire that he gave off then.
After Tanjiro had told him what Shinjuro had written in his latest letter, the dream had ended with Rengoku smiling brilliantly at the boy, the smell of fondness wafting from the man.
He wishes all of his dreams could be like this.
As he dresses by his bedside, heart skipping still, Tanjiro happily greets Zenitsu to his right. "Good morning! I hope you slept well!"
"God Tanjiro, why do you sound like that?" Zenitsu says while buttoning up his uniform. "Your heart's going crazy, like you're in love or –"
He claps a hand over his mouth as if realization has dawned on him. "Who's the girl? Is it Kanao-chan? Aoi-chan? Or is it even Shinobu-san?"
Tanjiro stops in the middle of putting on his haori. "What? Zenitsu, I'm not in love with any of them!"
"But my ears are never wrong when it comes to this! Who better than me to know what love sounds like? Even though no one has ever had their heart beat like that for me...yet!"
"I can't be in love with them, all right," Tanjiro sighs, wearying at this misunderstanding. "All I did was wake up from a dream with Rengoku-san anyway –"
Suddenly the other boy's demeanor shifts completely. Instead of Zenitsu's usual smell of camaraderie or lovesickness, only the scent of sadness emanates from him. All pretense of good humor has spilled away from the boy's face.
"Tanjiro..." Zenitsu says, as if he's trying hard not to choke on his words. "P-please don't tell me..."
He doesn't understand what's going on. "Tell you what?"
"Rengoku-san is gone."
He doesn't know why such a simple statement of fact – so many months after his death – is raising his hackles. "Why are you bringing that up, Zenitsu?"
Zenitsu continues as if he hasn't heard, words pouring out faster and faster as if that'll take the sting out of them. "He may be in your dreams but that Rengoku isn't real. Please, Tanjiro, you have to know that."
"I do know!"
He's starting to yell. Why is he starting to yell?
"I was in front of him when he died! I handled his ashes! How wouldn't I know?"
Tanjiro's hands are curled into sweaty fists.
"Then why are you in love with him?" Zenitsu cries.
His tongue is numb. His fists shakily unfurl, then clench, unfurl again. He looks at a point past Zenitsu, any point that doesn't involve seeing the tears build in his friend's eyes.
"I should have – I should have talked about the dreams with you, but I thought – I thought you were getting better," the other boy begins to babble. "I didn't think this would happen. I'm sorry Tanjiro, I'm so sorry."
All Tanjiro can do is breathe.
And look away.
When he next dreams of Rengoku, he knows he can't deny what Zenitsu had said.
He is now keenly aware of his hand brushing against the flames of Rengoku's haori. Of his hip touching Rengoku's as he sits and smiles at Tanjiro and tells him what a good tsuguko he is. Of their shoulders grazing one another's as Tanjiro tells him a story about Nezuko and Hanako trying to cook the perfect birthday breakfast for his mother one year.
His heart keeps thumping throughout and when Rengoku raises a hand to run his fingers through crimson strands, Tanjiro lowers his head and struggles not to cry.
When Shinobu pointedly mentions that she is developing a special medicine that can prevent dreaming, Tanjiro volunteers to test it.
It works for the first week and he doesn't know whether to feel grateful or regretful for it. He goes to sleep and then he wakes up the next morning, nary a dream in between. Like dying and then resurrecting.
(If only Rengoku could – )
When Zenitsu asks if the medicine is working, Tanjiro finds that he can only respond with "Yes". He's not lying, but he doesn't care to hurt Zenitsu again with something he should really be equipped to deal with on his own. There are so many other things for all of them to worry about instead of one's pathetic love life.
Every time Zenitsu tries to probe further, Tanjiro simply smiles and says he has to train.
Even this tepid state of affairs can't last long though.
When Inosuke has to pull him out of trouble for the umpteenth time during a mission and lays into Tanjiro all of his missteps – "Why are you so slow and tripping over your feet like a moron!" and "Why is your breathing all over the place!" – Shinobu decides to take away the medicine.
He doesn't blame her – a medic should be prioritizing his health and safety after all – but that night, he simultaneously braces for and welcomes the dream to come.
Seemingly only seconds after his consciousness slips away, Tanjiro arrives at the same beach, the most tranquil sea he's seen in front of it.
But instead of facing Rengoku's back like he normally does, he is only inches away from his bright eyes.
"Rengoku-san!" The sudden proximity makes him lose his balance and Tanjiro stumbles, pitches backward – only to have a warm arm reach across his back and stop his fall.
Then he's crushed hard against Rengoku's chest, cheek and hands finding thick muscle to rest against.
"I've missed you, my boy!" Rengoku's voice both resounds across the dreamscape and yet is for his ears only.
And though he really shouldn't take heart in those words – this Rengoku is just a fiction within Tanjiro's mind after all – Tanjirou does anyways. His fingers traces the hard planes of his body and he lets himself sink further against the man.
"I missed you, too. I really have." Tanjiro says softly.
For the first time, they stay locked in an embrace during their time on the beach. Even when Rengoku makes his way into a sitting position, he brings Tanjiro down and onto his lap. Rengoku doesn't acknowledge their physical intimacy at all, but as they talk about everything and nothing, it's all Tanjiro can notice and feel.
"– And that's why Senjuro hasn't allowed me to cook since!"
"That's terrifying, Rengoku-san!" Tanjiro laughs but he is clutching fistfuls of the man's uniform as if they're the only thing guarding against a rash decision he knows he won't be able to take back.
Then Rengoku leans down to kiss him –
And he is warm, so warm, and being scoured from within.
Tanjiro doesn't like to keep secrets, but if no one asks, no one has to know.
So long as he's able to fight demons and continue searching for that elusive cure for Nezuko, what more should be expected from him? Also his senses haven't been dulled ever since he stopped taking Shinobu's anti-dream medication, so he is honestly doing better than ever. Is he that much different from a lover waiting for letters from their soldiers during a war?
(He tries not to think too hard about Zenitsu's knowing stares.)
Plus Rengoku will never be in pain or die again, so long as Tanjiro continues to reach him in dreams.
He's happy. Rengoku's happy. Who is losing?
(He tries not to think about the couples he sees on his missions.)
He gets to be mentored by Rengoku. He gets to share stories and laugh with Rengoku. He gets to kiss Rengoku and learn what being a man is like outside of brothel walls.
(He tries not to think about how the mirror will never show any of the marks Rengoku leaves.)
He's survived so much in his young life already; surely he can adapt yet again. It's all about resolve and seeing it through like Tomioka once said years ago.
He has the resolve. He doesn't have to let this relationship become as Zenitsu feared; with enough willpower, enough energy –
Surely, Tanjiro can make this dream work.
(That night, before he goes to sleep, Nezuko seeks him out and gives him a hug. They sit in silence for a while.)
Whenever happiness is destroyed, there's always the smell of blood.
Nezuko lies broken in front of Tanjiro, and she won't regenerate and she's not moving and he knows exactly what led to this and he screams and screams.
He hadn't been paying enough attention. To Nezuko. His only family left in the world.
All because of his dreams, his delusions –
Even when Shinobu is able to stabilize Nezuko, get her breathing again, and her healing factor finally, finally kicks in, Tanjiro sits shaking by her bedside, hands clasping hers.
He can't risk losing her ever again. Take away Nezuko, take away his reason to be.
Dreams are not sustenance enough.
The last dream he ever has of Rengoku mirrors the first one he had of him.
Rengoku is sitting on a beach in front of a pristine sea and his back is turned toward Tanjiro.
Tanjiro picks his way slowly toward him, each deliberate step forward practice for what he must do in the end.
"Rengoku-san," he says when he gets close to the hashira.
"You came, my boy." The voice that comes out of Rengoku is not loud or boisterous but tired.
"I did." Tanjiro looks down on Rengoku's mussed orange and red tendrils but does not reach down to pet them like he would have in recent dreams.
"I'm sorry."
Tanjiro jolts at these words but waits for more.
"I know what you're here for, my boy." Rengoku stands and turns to face Tanjiro. He smells like the salt of the sea. Like tears.
He might have been a dream, but he loved and loved well. So Tanjiro will give him a proper farewell.
"You made me so happy here, Rengoku-san," he begins. "You gave me some of the happiest memories of my life. Even if they're made up by my mind, you gave them to me."
He takes a breath, lets it out. Just like Rengoku had told him how to properly do in life, he uses Total Concentration: Constant to steady himself.
"I love you, Kyojuro. But I have to move on for the sake of everybody living. I know the real you –" Tanjiro's voice cracks here. "The real you wouldn't have let me do this. But I don't blame you at all. You tried your best for me in the only way you knew how."
He lets the words sit between them. These are the last substantive words he has left to say.
Kyojuro's voice is quiet when he speaks. "I love you, too, Tanjiro, my boy. And were I still alive, I would have found a way to love you then. That is an irrefutable fact."
Despite the sadness leeching into the air from him, Kyojuro's smile is still blazingly bright.
Tanjiro sobs then.
The ledger of regrets and hypotheticals always amasses more.
When the tears subside long enough for Tanjiro to focus again on Kyojuro, he reaches up for the hashira to kiss him, a bruising kiss that Tanjiro won't see the aftermath of in the morning.
"Thank you, Kyojuro. But I have to go now."
He lets go of Kyojuro's collar and begins to walk toward the sea. He does not look back.
If he is right, then he knows how to make sure he never returns to this dreamscape.
With deliberate steps forward, he keeps walking, even as the sea rises to his waist, to his neck, and finally he is submerged and
Down
Down
Down
He goes, blackness building at the corners of his vision, mouth and lungs gasping for breath but taking in none, until he wakes.
Zenitsu never tells Tanjiro this, but every time he visits a shrine, he prays.
He prays to live a happy, peaceful life of course, because who doesn't? He prays to have Nezuko's hand in marriage. He prays for the safety of his newfound family among the Corps. He prays for demons to just drop dead and stop existing (except Nezuko of course).
And he prays for Tanjiro to be truly happy. If not in this life, then in the next life, please make Kamado Tanjiro happy because god knows he deserves it, more than anybody else around him.
Then he bows deeply in front of the shrine and takes his leave.
A few hours before the first day of classes begin and Kyojuro is already raring to go!
This day is always one of the busiest, but one of the most rewarding days of the year. He gets to meet new students and start puzzling out what kind of people they'll end up being by the end of their three years of high school. He gets to welcome back the returning students and hammer in them again knowledge and values that'll hopefully make them healthy and productive members of society. Not to mention, he also gets to collaborate with his co-workers – some of whom can be very eccentric, he must confess, but bring diverse teaching approaches to the table that he would otherwise never conceive of for the betterment of his students.
Right now, he's at the front gates waiting for the new student teacher to appear. What a honor it is to be granted an opportunity by Principal Ubuyashiki to shepherd a fresh college graduate into the world of enlightening children's minds! Specifically, Kyojuro's been tasked to show this teacher around the school for an hour before the rest of the staff come in and to then have him shadow Kyojuro's classes for the rest of the day. Apparently he hadn't been able to come to orientation a month ago due to scheduling conflicts, so today will be his first day. Afterwards, the two will work together as co-teachers, with Kyojuro as lead teacher.
Kyojuro can't seem to remember the man's name – he has never had a strong memory for them, but he doesn't let that get him down. The school is located on top of a small hill anyway, with both paths to it intersecting at the front gates, and Kyojuro has keen eyes.
As he conjures up images of a bland but nevertheless shiny-eyed young man excitedly asking him what it's like to raise a new cohort of Japanese society each year, Kyojuro spots a short-haired man taking to the bottom of the hill, his pace surprisingly brisk despite the steep incline. So, a student teacher who values physical fitness, Kyojuro nods to himself. He can already tell he'll like this lad without even saying a word to him yet.
Once the man gets halfway up, Kyojuro starts waving and shouts, "Welcome to Fuji High School!"
"Good morning, Rengoku-sensei! I'll be there soon!" The man responds without breaking stride, and even quickens his pace.
What an assertive voice, Kyojuro thinks approvingly. And considerate of his senpai!
Then he notices the dark red scar on the corner of the man's face and –
"You coward! Rengoku-san is way more amazing than you!"
"Please stop the bleeding with a breathing technique!"
By the time the student teacher reaches Kyojuro, the blond is shaking in disbelief.
Perturbed, the man asks, "Are you okay, Rengoku-sensei?"
"Kamado Tanjiro? Is that you?" Kyojuro suddenly asks, reaching out to grab the other man's shoulder. There is lean muscle running beneath the green-and-black checked suit.
Kamado nods, though he seems somewhat confused. "Yes, that's me? Principal Ubuyashiki told me to come here this morning to meet you."
"Do you remember anything else about me?" Kyojuro has to know.
"Uh... He said that you teach history and that you're very passionate about your students and the state of Japanese education?" Kamado is starting to sound more and more bewildered.
At this point, Kyojuro knows he is fighting a losing battle and switches gears.
"You're absolutely right, young Kamado!" He smiles and ruffles the man's crimson hair. Kamado smiles awkwardly back, as if trying to decide if Kyojuro is playing a joke on him.
Even though Kamado doesn't seem to remember anything about who they used to be, Kyojuro is not an easily discouraged man. Kamado is his kouhai now and there will be time enough to jog his memories, to pick up where they left off before Akaza had intruded.
As Kyojuro looks again at Kamado's kind eyes, the soft curve of his mouth, and his muscled yet lean form, he wonders also if something new can come from their reunion.
After all, the world is at peace and there are no more demons.