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Kanao is eighteen years old when the nightmares slowly end. She awakens in her room, the covers still wrapped around her. A gentle knock on the shoji is heard only, and she tightly wraps her robe against her feeling the morning chill. She is sitting properly as she slides it open, not even bothering to check her hair in the loose braid she’d done the night before.
Tanjiro is there, eyes bright in the light that he is holding. The flame flickers and he gasps quietly.
“Ah, Kanao—I didn’t mean to wake you so early,” he says in a hushed tone. He looks apologetic, eyes downcast.
“You didn’t wake me,” Kanao responds in a light voice. She smiles softly and Tanjiro breathes out in relief.
Suddenly, he goes quiet as if he’s carefully considering his next words, setting aside the candlelight.
“It’s just, I was wondering, do you still have those dreams?”
It’s been years, she thinks. It’s been since they were only—and she stops herself. It hasn’t been long; in reality, the battle is still fresh in her memories. The loss is still raw. She can’t help but think to feel selfish for moving on, but she constantly thinks of Kanae’s smile, her smell, her breathing form. Shinobu and her smirk, her knowing eyes, and her tenderness. It’s all so vivid in her mind’s eye. She remembers the feeling of open wounds, the scars she still sees on herself, all the nights spent up late chatting with everyone afterward in an attempt to stay up. To not go to sleep and shut her eyes, to not want to relive the sight of her comrades’ carcasses, the iron smell of death.
Kanao swallows, clutching at the fabric of her robe. At this very moment she wants to say, ‘no I’m fine, my nightmares no longer haunt me.’ Kanao knows better though.
She looks up into his eyes, and Tanjiro receives her gaze as open and clear as the horizon.
“I do, but I think it’s calmed itself.”
Tanjiro is out on the porch of the tea room in the butterfly mansion, staring at the blossoms. They flow precariously, some of the flowers falling into his teacup as he smiles fondly.
Everyone else was helping Aoi in the kitchen, and amongst the silence of the afternoon, Tanjiro can hear Aoi fussing at Inosuke and Zenitsu for stealing dumplings, while Nezuko laughs fondly.
He feels a familiar presence by him, Kanao sitting next to him, a teacup in her hands.
“I like to come out here and think,” she says, looking out towards the gardens. Tanjiro nods along and wonders how different life could’ve been if everyone had just lived—had everything not happened how it did—had it just—he stops himself. He knows better than to regret, after everything he’s been through, all the pain, the suffering, the trying. He wants to never regret his time here. Even if he lost so many, he doesn’t want to involve them in those regrets and think he regrets ever meeting them. Although he just wishes so much that in another time, they could have all been happier, around, alive.
“Sometimes I wish,” Kanao takes a sip, holding her cup close to her nose, looking down at the rocks below them. “I wish that the others were here to see this. To be here at this moment, but I am also glad in a way because I can live this moment for them.”
Tanjiro feels his eyes water, trying to hold it back. “I do that too,” his voice comes out raspier; he clears his throat, repeating. “I wish that too.”
“They’re here,” Kanao says. It is the surest thing she knows. “They’re not gone, not entirely, I believe. If we’re happy, they’re happy.” Kaburamaru comes out from inside her yukata, slithering his way into her hair.
Tanjiro blinks away the tears and sees Kanao as a reassuring presence in the life they are now living for those who cannot.
Tomioka comes to visit the estate alongside Sanemi, both young men looking very much the same, although Tomioka’s hair has grown and Sanemi’s too. In a way that suits them.
Kanao smiles upon their arrival, while Aoi seats them at the table.
“Oh! Tea, I’ll bring tea,” Aoi murmurs to herself. She slides open the shoji and a crash is heard from the kitchen. Kanao can see the veins pop from her head. “Inosuke! Idiot, there’s a stool to get up on those counters!” She hollers. She then quickly turns back to Sanemi and Tomioka, bowing politely. “I have quite the helpers, I’ll be back soon with the drinks!” She shuts the shoji, the sound of her heavy footsteps quieting.
“It’s good to see you well, Kanao,” Tomioka tells her. His eyes seem warmer.
“You too, Tomioka-san, Shinazugawa-san,” she nods at the two of them and Sanemi wrinkles his face.
“No more formalities, please,” he almost begs. Kanao’s lips upturn, fond of the way Sanemi seems much gentler, and she thinks it must be all the time spent with Tomioka.
“Of course,” she promises once Aoi comes in and sets the tea down, quickly walking back to grab the dumplings.
“Sanemi, Giyuu, I’m glad you two are here.”
Tanjiro greets Giyuu and Sanemi during the night, traveling back from visiting the older gentleman from his and Nezuko’s hometown.
Giyuu welcomes him with a brightness around his eyes. “Tanjiro,” he bows.
The young man startles, sputtering in a comedic fashion. “Ah! Giyuu-san! You don’t have to bow.”
Sanemi laughs, a bold thing to hear so late at night but also it’s rare. When was the last time he saw him smile?
“You’re laughing at me because I bowed?” Giyuu’s eyebrow quirks, a grin playing on his lips as Sanemi puts a hand upon his shoulder. Tanjiro thinks the action speaks a lot about their comfort between one another.
“We told Kanao not to bother with formalities, so what makes Tanjiro any different?”
Giyuu huffs, looking away. “It’s no matter. Tanjiro,” he looks back at him. “You’ve grown haven’t you?”
Tanjiro startles, moving his hand in a horizontal motion comparing his height to theirs. “Have I?” He wonders. “I mean, I guess I have! Well, that’s nice of you to notice.”
Sanemi slaps his back roughly, leaning in close. “Don’t let that get to your head,” he threatens, but before Tanjiro could pull away, he ruffles his hair.
Tanjiro allows this, a warmth spreading through him. If Genya were here, he would also be receiving this. And he blinks away the image to look back at Giyuu and Sanemi.
“It won’t, I promise!” He declares, and the two men smile. It’s the first time he’s seen them content after months of not seeing them.
Kanao is underneath the cherry blossoms, feeling the breeze outside and the easiness of the weather. She hears the crunching of footsteps and she turns to see Tanjiro holding his hand out, palm open.
“I used to love catching leaves in my hand when I was younger, though there weren't many blossoms, more like well—they were mostly leaves and very green,” he recalls, then he turns to her.
Tanjiro holds his hand out almost as if he’s offering it to her. Kanao looks at him, tilting her head in curiosity.
“Lift your hand, and open your palm,” he tells her. So she does.
His open hand comes to join hers, cupping underneath, cradling it gently. The wind flows again, the tree branches rustling as the blossoms fall around them and one makes its way towards Kanao’s hand, falling in place.
Tanjiro’s fingers glide across to touch the flower gently. “It found you.”
Kanao looks up at him and the way his softened gaze is pointed downwards, the most tender he has ever looked, causing her to feel that familiar warmth. The feelings that she had almost forgotten about, that didn’t seem to have left at all, making itself known once more.
She reaches out right when a blossom tickles Tanjiro’s forehead she grasps it, two fingers barely brushing against his skin.
Tanjiro looks up in awe, eyes wide. Then he sees the blossom in between her fingers and glances back at her, almost wanting to speak.
Kanao smiles, repeating his earlier words. “This one seemed to have found you too.”
“Kanao is very kind,” Nezuko rambles on a bright morning, unclipping the laundry from the twine they have pinned to the trees. “I look at her and she’s so effortless, always considerate to everything around her,” she sighs dreamily. “You know I think sometimes she’s like a princess of some great emperor reincarnated.”
Tanjiro’s hands freeze at the clips, listening to Nezuko speak about Kanao. Somehow Nezuko effortlessly painted the picture Tanjiro had in his mind with her words. So much so that he briefly wondered if telepathy between siblings was a possibility.
“She doesn’t seem as lonely anymore,” he points out and Nezuko covers her mouth looking at him.
“You’re right,” Nezuko’s eyes grow soft, gaze looking out towards the trees. “She’s found a home full of people, I’m glad we’re apart of it.”
Tanjiro smiles, his hands brushing against the white linens, remembering the feeling of fingertips against his forehead, and he feels that heat crawl up his neck.
“Tanjiro? You look red, are you not feeling well?” Nezuko asks in a worried tone. Tanjiro looks up quickly.
“I’m fine! It’s just—”
Nezuko blinks a few times at her brother's sputtering. She had always recognized Kanao's affections for him and watched carefully as he received them. His reaction told her he had only recently come to the same conclusion.
Her smile grew as she watched him, flushed and embarrassed. It was love. Tender and soft in its early stages, but love nonetheless.
“I know, I know,” she responds coyly, enjoying the way Tanjiro reddens. She sets aside the sheet and claps her hands together joyously. “I won’t say a word.”
Zenitsu sneers at Tanjiro the minute he returns back with Nezuko, carrying the heavy baskets full of linens. “Tanjiro! You can’t make her carry everything, that’s not what a good man does!” He scolds, jogging over to relieve Nezuko of one of the baskets and then the other.
Inosuke huffs, maskless and chewing loudly on a piece of food he possibly took from the kitchens when Aoi wasn’t looking.
“Like you're any kind of man,” he responds scaldingly to Zenitsu.
Zenitsu walks past, stomping on his foot, making Inosuke screech loudly. “You’re in the way, either help or go back to what you were doing!”
Inosuke restrains all his will power not to tackle Zenitsu into the floorboards like he used to all the time. “You’re lucky Kanao taught me how to control my temper, but sometimes I do want to smack that attitude from you!”
Zenitsu scoffs, setting the linens aside. “Oh please, like you could possibly do anything, we’re older now. We don’t need to be doing childish things.”
Inosuke smacks him harshly with a towel he grabbed from Tanjiro’s basket as Nezuko dodges it easily, Zenitsu almost falling back from the force.
“You’re such a fu—”
Aoi slams open the shoji, Kanao beside her. “You curse in this house and I’ll hang you from a tree,” she says dangerously and Zenitsu shuts his mouth, returning to what he was doing (helping Nezuko carefully fold everything).
Kanao laughs lightly as the two boys are hushed into silence, Kaburamaru sidling up beside her, nuzzling her cheek.
Tanjiro steals glances from Kanao as Aoi discusses today's chores for the time being and the rest of things needing to be done around the home.
Zenitsu leans in close, whispering harshly into Tanjiro’s ear. “You’re so obvious, I know. I can see,” he hisses. Tanjiro jolts, clutching his sheet tightly.
Inosuke comes close into the grouping. “I think you should go for it, although I have no idea what he’s talking about,” he whispers.
Zenitsu jabs at his forehead. “Quiet you! Don’t say anything if you don’t even know what we’re talking about!”
“I think I do know!”
“You don’t!”
“I sure do!”
Aoi stomps her foot, making her way over to drag both Zenitsu and Inosuke by the ears as they yowl in pain. “Since these two so badly want to clean the floors, I think they’ll start us off. Tanjiro, Nezuko continue with the laundry, thank you so much! You two, you’re coming with me!”
“Tanjiro help!” Zenitsu whines, already in tears, but Aoi slams the shoji shut. Zenitsu’s yelling is still heard until they finally fade away.
“Always the livelier of the two, isn’t he?” Nezuko says, shaking her head.
“He’s ridiculous,” Tanjiro sighs, focusing back, but he feels eyes on him and looks to see Kanao staring hard at his hands. He swallows, managing his heartbeat.
“Kanao?”
She blinks away and looks at him, her eyes the color of bellflowers. “Oh I’m sorry, it’s just I was wondering how you fold the linen like that?”
“Into triangles?” Nezuko asks.
Kanao nods and Nezuko smiles knowingly. “Tanjiro’s always been good at folding like that, you should show her!”
Nezuko sits up, finally done with her set and moves to take them into the other room, leaving the two alone.
“I’m a good listener, so whenever you’re ready,” she sits attentively, grabbing a linen from the other basket as Tanjiro welcomes this time with her. He uses this to demonstrate something important that he’s always known how to do, but a part of him can’t rid himself of the resounding noise of his heartbeat in his ears and how it seems to hum whenever Kanao looks at him.
Kanao thinks that Tanjiro seems to be avoiding her gaze. She kneads the dough in between her fingers absently forgetting to add more flour as it begins to get sticky.
Aoi thumps her gently on the forehead. “You’re thinking too much. You aren’t focusing on the dough, Kanao,” she chides lightly, going to set her balls of dough, already prepped and ready to go for steaming.
Kanao flushes lightly, grabbing more of the flour and adding it so she can begin to return it back to its original consistency.
“I’m just caught up in some thoughts, I apologize, Aoi.”
Aoi sniffs, hands on her hips. “Don’t think about Tanjiro so much, it shows on your face,” she turns away, hiding her teasing smile.
Kanao flushes, trying to fight it off as best she can. “I’m not,” she responds in a collected tone. “Although, I’m glad he and Nezuko are here visiting for the time being.”
Aoi considers that and leans against the counter, arms crossing. “And if they happen to stay for a lot more, then what?”
“I don’t know what you mean?”
“Listen, they’re only going to be here for a short while, I think they’re gonna return soon with Zenitsu and Inosuke back to their old family home. They’re not going to stay here forever.”
“I know that,” Kanao mumbles, feeling a slight pang in her chest.
Aoi huffs. “I’m not trying to be rough on you, but just consider your feelings and what you want to do with them.”
“I am. I will,” Kanao responds simply, her dough finally in the shape she wants. She begins to divide them up evenly.
“I just don’t want it to pass you by.”
Some days Kanao realizes the gravity of her lost eyesight, the black spot on one side does not deter her from the remaining sight she has. Other than that, she has noticed her sense of smell has become stronger and her hearing much more sensitive. She can now tell apart everyone’s footsteps when they walk on the floorboard of the estate.
Zenitsu’s sounds similar to a scuffling noise, Nezuko’s steps would always glide against the floor, Inosuke’s were much deeper, residual pounding when he makes his way through, and Aoi was much more graceful as if she was stepping on her tiptoes attempting to be delicate as possible.
When she hears Tanjiro making his way to her, her heart begins to beat loudly in her ears despite herself. No matter how much she tries her best to control the unfurling emotions, they come forth, spilling anyway.
She recognizes his scent: similar to the smell of wood, warm spices, summer in all its glory.
“Kanao, ah,” he has a hand on the back of his neck and he looks oddly sheepish for someone always encouraging, always smiling. He has this way about him that brings about good feelings to everyone, a firm tone when needed.
Kanao thinks with a stutter that she has been in love this entire time and has now of all times made sense of it.
“I was just—I wanted to ask—“ he looks up and pauses, his eyes locking with hers. He licks his lips unsure of how to proceed. Where does he go from here? Just looking at her was enough for all the words to fly away and leave him with that buzzing sensation.
That warm feeling rising, returning to once again remind him. To remind him of what? Of its appearance, of how it never left.
“How are you? I mean today, are you doing well?” He asks, his hand seems to relax, letting it fall back to his side and Kanao blinks, momentarily confused. She suspected him to say something entirely different, but he seems to be holding back.
She won’t pry, but she finds it odd for someone so honest like Tanjiro.
“I’m well, and you?” She replies conversationally, making sure to answer what he needs.
“Thats—that’s wonderful, I’m glad. You’re always well and,” he’s fumbling over his words and he feels like he wants to quiet himself but he can’t seem to stop setting himself up for failure.
“Pretty and kind and you know, Nezuko adores you, you know? She thinks you’re like a princess from another time. I agree but I think you’d be rather lonely as a princess, but you’d definitely be one that is always going adventures, although I think that’s up to you to challenge—“
He stops himself. He feels like an idiot. He’s such an idiot.
“That’s silly, ignore what I said, like the princess part. That was unnecessary to add but I—” He grips his hands fearful of looking Kanao in her eyes. She possibly knows already and he made a fool of himself.
He wonders what Genya would tell him in this moment, maybe Muichiro would offer a small smile of encouragement—he thinks of his mother who taught him all the lessons needed to respect a woman. Mitsuri and Shinobu would have been of great help in this sort of thing. But another side of him thinks Shinobu would have killed him for attempting to court her sister.
“Tanjiro?” Kanao seems to not be understanding his turbulent emotions and so he recognizes not to push himself too much. This needs to be a gradual sort of thing. It’s nothing to force it upon her. It’s not like he’s leaving soon. He wanted to stay in the estate for a while longer.
“I want to stay,” he says boldly. “I want to stay here with all of you.”
Kanao sits up uneasily. She remembers visiting his home once before, bowing to the small flowers of his family, laying out incense, the old man above the mountain they watch over.
“You can’t,” she whispers, the clench in her heart returns and it holds itself. Tanjiro’s face falls in a way that she can’t describe, but it is painful.
Tanjiro expresses his defeat in so many ways, but he does not want to look at the obvious rejection in Kanao’s eyes. Is this what it feels like to be turned away by someone who has their place so deep in your heart that you can’t seem to stop thinking about them? He has never once stopped thinking of her.
He turns away in the moment, avoiding her eyes, and Kanao sits up, startled.
“Tanjiro, I didn’t mean—”
“We will leave soon then,” he responds hoarsely. He clears his throat, steeling himself to say more, but he can’t find it in him to form any of the words he wants to, so he slides away the shoji to mask the way he wavers.
Kanao’s breaths seem to come out shakily as if she were trembling. She feels the rice paper between them create a great distance from one another and she cannot figure out how to overcome that.
The next day goes by slowly, they had spent most of the early winter months together, and the cherry blossoms finally have stopped blooming. Summer is soon upon them and Nezuko wishes to return quickly back to their home to continue cleaning and building some other rooms for Inosuke and Zenitsu.
“You seem down,” Inosuke questions, his eyebrows drawn together tightly as if he’s scowling at the obvious mood Tanjiro seems to be showing. He feels deflated, but he’s tried to keep that away from everyone else.
“I’m not,” he considers, though the words come out much more morose and Inosuke huffs.
“You don’t want to leave here, do you?”
Tanjiro frowns. Was he really that obvious to everyone around them? Especially to Inosuke of all people, but as his friend, Inosuke has always been perceptive in his own right. It’s just Zenitsu riles him up too much, that he says the wrong thing in frustration.
“I don’t,” he confesses. He closes his eyes and sees the faces of his family, then the flash of their bodies when he found them. He opens his eyes, swallowing deeply. Tanjiro feels sick. He thought the dreams would be over.
Inosuke watches him astutely, his eyes the color of fresh leaves in the fall, the way the fields of grass reflect off the light. For someone so brash, Inosuke is beautiful in his own right. Also just too smart for his own good.
“I think you could stay here,” he suggests, then he fiercely scratches his head. “You could, but I ain’t saying you can’t.”
“Talk to Nezuko, I’m sure she’d get it,” he recommends, and stomps away to snatch something from Zenitsu while Aoi scolds them while the rest of the young girls laugh at their antics.
Nezuko finds her brother by the butsudan, where an old photo of Kanae, Shinobu, and their parents are atop it. Other photos of various young girls that belonged to the estate surround it, the incense smells of a familiar spice.
She sits comfortably before closing her eyes to thank them again for allowing them to stay here in their home for so long.
“I want to stay here, a little longer.” Tanjiro speaks in a low tone and Nezuko glances to see him still looking upon the old photos of the family before them. “If you will have me, I want to just be here, and I will head back soon to my own home.”
Nezuko shuts her eyes again. “If you don’t mind as well, I also want to stay here just a little longer also.” They both pray, the pictures before them still frozen in place, smiles that will never turn to frowns, time stands them still.
The dead do not speak, but they listen.
Tanjiro bows before Aoi and Kanao, Nezuko beside him and Inosuke to his right. Zenitsu on the other side of Inosuke as they lower their heads.
“What are you—”
Tanjiro lifts his head carefully, eyes looking between Aoi and Kanao. “I wish to stay here for a little while longer, if you will have me.”
Aoi huffs, crossing her arms. “I don’t know what started this, but I don’t mind you all staying here for as long as you need to.”
“I told him no,” Kanao says, and everyone lifts their heads. Tanjiro’s eyes shift towards Kanaos and she looks indifferent, like the first time he met her and his stomach drops, a fear washing over him.
Aoi looks astonished. “Why would you?”
“They need to return home to their family.”
Nezuko interjects quickly. “Kanao, you are our family.”
Kanao’s lip trembles, tears threatening to spill over as she looks away from the four of them. Kaburamaru makes himself present. He looks upon her in a knowing way. The snake was one of the most intelligent beings she’s ever come across, and she thanks Obanai and Kanroji every day for allowing her to be with him. Her heart trembles remembering them.
The ghosts never really leave her, but she feels as though they want her to move on. To live for them in the way that she wants. Whether it’s here or with them or if she heads towards the west. Home is wherever—she looks back at Tanjiro, Nezuko, Inosuke, and Zenitsu.
Tanjiro locks eyes with her and he has his face set in stone, a determination etched into his brows.
“You are my home,” he declares. Everyone looks at him in awe and Zenitsu nearly snaps but Inosuke covers his mouth quickly. Nezuko’s eyes well up with tears in happiness because finally her brother has said what he’s been needing to say after all these years, all this time.
“Home is,” he continues. “Home is wherever you are, Kanao.”
“All of that trouble, just so you could confess in front of everyone? Honestly, what kind of man does that, Kamado?” Aoi flicks his forehead in an affectionate way and he flushes deeply.
“Ah! I just wanted to—I wanted her to understand.”
“Fool,” she rolls her eyes. “Kanao knows all, but she also is not selfish enough to take things.”
“I know,” he murmurs. “That’s why I wanted her to know that she could if she wanted to.”
Aoi looks at him and in this light Tanjiro looks much older than he is, but he is also so sure of himself and he’s stubborn. Almost too stubborn for Kanao, but Aoi remembers just how easily the girl never backs down. They fit in a way that makes sense. It’s almost like two halves finding their whole, except Tanjiro has split himself over and over to fit himself to everyone.
His love is as boundless as the sea.
“This is romantic love that you feel for her, yes?” Aoi asks, making sure that it’s not just—
“It is,” he whispers. She’s taken aback. “I love her, I think it was just easy to fall in love with her.”
“Then tell her, tell that part of your home that you love her.”
Tanjiro finds Kanao in the gardens in the evening. The sun is setting in the horizon and she is holding a dragonfly between her fingers looking upon it fondly. He thinks that’s another familiar position he’s seen her, the first time he saw her during the selection exams.
Kanao looks up then, the insect flying away and she sees Tanjiro before her, his eyes reflecting hers. He too had also lost an eye during the battle.
“I hope earlier wasn’t too much of a surprise for you,” he says apologetically. “I just wanted you to understand that.”
Kanao nods, clasping her hands together. “It was, but I didn’t mind it, I’m glad to be a part of your home.”
Tanjiro wants to speak, but his tongue is glued to the roof of his mouth. Just tell her. Say it.
“Tanjiro, I want you to know that I’ve loved you for a very long time. There was that period of time where we didn’t see each other after the battle, while you and Nezuko and others left and went home. I thought it would pass me by. Then you came to visit again and again, and I was happy. The feelings I think never really left me like I thought they did. I don’t mind going wherever you go.”
Kanao looks up at him, eyes so full of emotions and she smiles, her hands coming up to touch the birthmark on his forehead, trailing slowly to rest upon his cheek. “I hope that makes it clear for you.”
Tanjiro’s hand in return grasps hers as he leans into her touch, breathing in deeply. “I love you,” he says breathlessly and Kanao’s eyes widen. He looks at her, pulling her hand down to hold it and standing up straighter.
“I love you, it’s you. It’s always been you, Kanao.”
Her tears come falling forth and she cannot stop them. With this Tanjiro feels the water behind his eyes, the happiness in his throat. His heart jumps and flips.
“Can I hold you?” He asks simply and Kanao nods, still crying as Tanjiro wraps his arms around her carefully, pressing his forehead against hers.
“Thank you, Kamado Tanjiro,” Kanao says and she shifts to rest her chin on his shoulder. “Thank you for loving me.”
Tanjiro is choked up, breathing in deeply, remembering the feeling of holding her against him so closely. “I should be thanking you, Tsuyuri Kanao.”
Kanao visits the mountainside along with everyone else, and she finds it beautiful here. The trees loom over them, shading them from the bright sunlight overhead, Tanjiros warm hand holding hers. The others are trailing beside them as Nezuko mediates an argument between Aoi and Inosuke while Zenitsu screeches at the two of them that they’re wrong.
Tanjiro leans in, his voice close to her ear in a way that sends goosebumps along her arms. “We’re getting close.”
She welcomes the small abode, and the flowers blooming before her marking the space of the Kamado family. She can almost envision the family gathering firewood, the children playing and laughing.
“Do you want to say hello to them?” Nezuko asks. Kanao nods, and everyone sets aside their traveling bags by the porch making their way to the bloom of flowers. They all bow their heads, hands together and Kanao thanks them, with all her heart, that they allowed her into their home. She can almost imagine them smiling at her.
The ghosts are warm like the sunlight surrounding them.
So Kanao makes peace with the kind Kamado family, and welcomes them openly as they received her.
Later in the evening after dinner they talk with the old man up from the mountain, a kindly man who tells them stories as Inosuke listens intently and Aoi replenishes his plate.
Kanao sits against the porch, the shoji open, and she can hear the crying of cicadas in the distance. The fireflies flitter about and she thinks to herself what a kind journey it has been to get here, to be here.
Tanjiro sits beside her, the silence around them except the sounds of the night and the laughter from the room blanketing over them for security. “I’m glad you came here,” he says.
Kanao smiles fondly, turning to face him. “I wanted to be here, with all of you.”
Tanjiro can’t help but beam. He feels so content that he can’t even put it into good words. It’s something that has not left him. He feels so happy to be loved and to love in return. His mother was right about that.
He reaches forward, brushing a strand of hair from her face to put it behind her ear. “Wherever you go, we go with you,” he promises. He leans in close pressing his lips to the side of her cheek. “I’m happy wherever you are.”
Kanao closes her eyes and breathes, the ghosts around her do not feel like a weight. It doesn't feel like she is leaving them behind because they are always with her. No matter where she goes. Her heart is full and open, Tanjiro receiving every ounce of it.
Tanjiro’s thumb comes to wipe a tear from her. “You can stay here as long as you like. Forever even.”
“Forever is a long time, Tanjiro,” Kanao says.
“We can bend it to our liking, forever can be right now or three years from now.”
Kanao mimics the same he did to her, brushing aside his bangs, her fingers gliding over the birthmark as Tanjiro’s looks at her. “Let it be forever, right now. At this moment.”
Tanjiro tilts his head, lips coming to press against hers. It is a simple touch but it means so much. It is warm, gentle, tender. He pulls away and his thumb brushes her cheeks.
“This moment is just fine, then,” he agrees.
They don’t realize the shoji had been closed sometime ago to allow them privacy and the chatter from everyone still discussing old stories of nomads, the spirits dwelling in the forests, and Tanjiro can’t help but steal more kisses from Kanao as she laughs lightly.
Happiness and forever, it is here, beside her and beside them. It has always been here.