Chapter Text
The only plan had been to attend a distant relative’s funeral.
What went awry was that he ended up adopting two kids.
“Brother,” Nezuko says with an air of exasperated amusement, “why is it always you?” She stands in the foyer of Tanjirou’s home, hair pulled into a neat up-do.
Outside, the world has sunk into summer. Bright green dots the trees, clear blue canvases the sky.
Two pairs of teal eyes look at the Kamado siblings from the hallway, one suspicious, the other curious.
Tanjirou gives them a reassuring smile before turning towards his younger sister.
“I couldn’t leave them there,” he explains, hands waving through the air.
The hanafuda earrings dangling from his lobes jingle with his movements. “They weren’t being treated well. You know how that side of the family is.”
Nezuko pauses and stares at him for a long while.
She eventually toes off her shoes with a sigh.
“I believe you. It’s just a little weird to accept that you’re technically a parent now.”
The winds of change blow in strange directions.
Two weeks earlier, the acting head of the Tokitou family had finally passed on at the old age of 800.
The history goes like this: once upon a time, there had been a powerful magical family with the surname of Tsugikuni. Armed with potent magic, they were born sorcerers who lived well past human years.
The family tree split in two after a jealous older brother cut ties with his genius younger sibling over inheritance issues.
This created the Tokitou and Kamado branches respectively.
Thus, despite sharing the same blood, the descendants of the Tokitou and Kamado families have never gotten along.
To be fair, so much time has passed that the blood connection has become beyond diluted.
As an act of ice-cold courtesy, the Tokitou branch had extended an invitation to the funeral and similarly out of courtesy, the Kamados had sent Tanjirou as tribute.
They felt that Tanjirou’s sunny personality could make even the most awkward of family reunions bearable but had no idea he’d come home with two little Tokitou children in tow.
“Are you going to introduce me?” Nezuko asks with a cock of her head. She hangs her coat near the front door and walks into the hallway.
At her approach, the two kids who been eying the scenario shrink back towards the kitchen.
“Nezuko, be careful. They’re a little timid.”
Timid isn’t necessarily the right word, they’re more hostile than anything but Nezuko doesn’t have to know just yet.
It’s only been three days since they’ve come to live with Tanjirou. The wounds beaten into their skin by the Tokitou branch have only begun to heal.
“Hey, Muichirou and Yuichirou! Would you like to meet Nezuko? She’s my sister and she’s really nice!” Tanjirou offers in a cheery voice, turning around only to see the twins nowhere in sight.
The sound of two pairs of feet running up the stairs registers in his ears.
The bang of a bedroom door shutting resounds.
Tanjirou winces and looks towards the second floor. He knows it’ll take patience, but it makes him so sad to see how cautious the tiny and malnourished twins are.
“Sorry. They haven’t really settled in yet.”
Nezuko thinks of the bandages on their arms and legs. Her heart hurts.
“It’s alright, brother. I’m just glad that all of you are okay. You did the right thing.”
.
.
.
Tanjirou has always felt that the Tokitou family produces some of the most arrogant pieces of shit to ever walk the earth.
They’re definitely the descendants of Michikatsu Tsugikuni alright.
Power hungry, pretentious, and cruel, he’d rather not acknowledge their blood relation, thank you very much.
How strange is it now that he’s sharing a home with not one, but two of them?
To his knowledge, they’re young, barely teenagers, whereas he’s turning 73 this year.
This age gap is nothing to sorcerers but if his human friends ever discovered his real year of birth, they’d choke up blood.
For all they know, he looks like 24 year-old Tanjirou.
The wrinkles typically won’t start showing until he hits 600. Then, the decline will be rapid.
Tanjirou grimaces before turning onto his side.
It’s past 3 AM and he can’t fall asleep. A month has passed since the twins arrived and they’ve nary said a word to him, cautiously letting him dress the last of their wounds and eating up the food he leaves at their door.
A pair of abused children without parents, tossed and thrown about like unwanted baggage in a large family.
Just what is he supposed to do to gain their trust? Being nice clearly isn’t enough.
With his mind whirring, summer nights have a habit of extending into infinity.
Tossing and turning gradually leads to Tanjirou rising from bed with a grunt.
Descending the steps two at a time, he reaches the kitchen intent on a cold glass of water when he stops in his tracks.
There’s a saying that lonely people tend to love the moon. Perhaps it’s the moon’s permanence in the silent night that makes it feel so close to the heart.
A child sits in front of the window by himself, his little frame seems terribly frail and alone.
Tanjirou might not have interacted with them intimately, but he can tell by the posture that this is the younger twin, Muichirou.
From day one, it’s been apparent that Yuichirou plays the role of the protective older brother.
His permanently rigid stance is in direct contrast with Muichirou who displays tentative curiosity with his body language.
There’s a moment where Tanjirou doesn’t know what to do; he’s afraid of spooking the child but he’s also overcome with the need to help.
The tiny Tokitou solves that for him.
“I know you’re there,” Muichirou whispers without turning. The light of the moon falls upon the hair growing past his shoulders, the ending wisps a shade of teal identical to his irises.
His senses are sharp, the telltale sign of a powerful sorcerer to come.
Tanjirou hesitates.
“Is it alright if I join you?” He keeps his words as light as possible.
The child doesn’t reply right away but just when Tanjirou’s hope crumbles, Muichirou acquiesces with a subtle nod of the head.
It’s enough for Tanjirou to make his way over and then it’s the two of them in the dark night, watching the sky.
Tanjirou dares not speak, content in just being in close proximity with the little one.
He hopes that one day, the twins can leave behind the bad memories and create newer and happier ones.
He hopes that he gets to be a part of that positive change.
.
.
.
Tanjirou quickly picks up on a pattern.
Muichirou always watches the moon before and after midnight.
He’s surprised he never noticed it beforehand. Turns out he’s as much of a deep sleeper as Yuichirou, having been completely oblivious to the younger twin’s routine.
The second night Tanjirou tries to keep Muichirou company, he notices that the child is much quicker in agreeing to his request.
Five nights after that, he actually uses hopeful eyes to beckon Tanjirou over.
By the time two weeks pass, Tanjirou automatically takes his spot next to Muichirou and like clockwork, each evening they observe the moon for an hour before the hands strike 12.
They barely exchange more than a few sentences worth of conversation but Muichirou seems to really enjoy being in a presence that isn’t his older brother’s for once.
The night the little Tokitou breaks his silence is the moment Tanjirou’s life changes forever.
It happens on a Saturday evening after Tanjirou comes back from dinner at his parents’ place.
With the house bathed in darkness, he and Muichirou are quietly sitting together as usual when the gears of fate begin to turn.
“Why did you help us?” The murmur that drags Tanjirou from his thoughts is one he can barely recognize.
It’s only natural because he has scarcely ever heard it.
A turn of Tanjirou’s head allows him to meet Muichirou’s gaze head on. He can see his own shocked expression reflected back at him.
The moonlight drips over both from faces, silver and eerily beautiful.
Those teal orbs are inquisitive but along the edges, there’s a thin layer of apprehension. It’s almost as if Muichirou is afraid of the older boy’s answer.
Tanjirou smiles gently, “it’s because you two looked like you were unhappy there. I felt that I could help you.”
Muichirou blinks. The unease doesn’t fade away from his stare. “…my brother says that people who help others are useless.”
Those words, no child should be saying them. Tanjirou feels his heart softening in sorrow, “that’s not true,” he replies with a shake of his head, “doing good for others means that good things will come back to help you.”
His answer seems to trigger something violent in Muichirou.
The bottom of Muichirou’s lips quivers and suddenly the calm in his eyes is torn apart by crashing waves of despair.
“My dad used to say that but, he died! Mom died of disease! They said it’s because of us, because we’re bad children. It’s our fault. We brought bad fortune to the Tokitou family!” Shaking tear droplets spill and Muichirou’s voice cracks as he shudders through his breakdown.
The beliefs beaten into him, there could be nothing more untrue.
Tanjirou unthinkingly reaches out and pulls the little one into his arms. He envelopes the trembling body with a warm hug and holds him close.
He feels so angry on their behalf.
“Don’t trust those words.” He breathes as Muichirou wets the front of his pajamas with tears.
“A handful of sorcerers are born with a heightened sense out of the traditional five. Mine is smell and the scents both you and your brother give off are innocent and kind. It’s certain that you are not a child of misfortune and neither is he. What is a misfortune is the fact that your relatives are such cruel people.”
He pats comfortingly at Muichirou’s small back and finally registers a third presence just outside the kitchen.
Yuichirou must be listening.
Tanjirou cannot fathom why these two have had to endure such hardships when their lives have barely begun. They’re only 13.
He thinks of his own kid brothers and sisters at age 13, how they had all grown up in a loving household.
Tanjiro grits his teeth and vows to be a source of strength to the Tokitou twins.
“From now on, if you guys will allow me, I promise to stay with you. I’ll show you that by helping other people, you can bring out infinite strength. You have so much time to grow up and become someone strong. Don’t let other people define who you are. I know that you can do it.”
Tanjirou startles when Muichirou abruptly detaches from where he had been buried against his chest.
The little one blinks up at him in a daze, eyelids red and swollen.
“Really?” he warbles.
Tanjirou uses a calloused finger to tenderly wipe at the wetness on the child’s face, “yes really. Hey, it’s okay to cry. Cry until you feel better.”
And Muichirou does, he cries and cries.
The tears eventually dry up when the sun rises.
And against the brilliance of dawn, for this first time since his parents passed, Muichirou breaks out into a hopeful and genuine smile.