Chapter Text
Genya was sixteen years old, or at least he believed, and had lived up to that moment confused and without even knowing what peace really meant.
He'd never even gone more than a few days without being chased by something or someone, dead or alive, demon or human, real or otherwise, and he didn't mean to start now. Not now that a disaster was about to happen, and they could only prepare quickly, prepare for the worst (which in a natural, but so familiar way, for them wasn't death).
Genya was sixteen when he really spoke to Tokito Muichiro for the first time, when he was able to have moments of peace for the first time, when he was able to escape whoever was chasing him for the first time.
Muichiro was…strange, probably.
Was it disrespectful to call someone in a so higher rank than him, so much stronger than him, strange?
Probably. Could he not do it? Absolutely not.
Muichiro kept talking to him, and there was something frightening about the way he spoke to him.
Only shortly after the mission that had seen them collide with two Uppermoon Muichiro had looked for him, and had looked him over, registering with an impassive gaze the semi-destroyed uniform, the scars scattered over any part of his body now exposed to the world (in an extremely embarrassing way, but by now he was able to ignore that burning shame in showing anyone that destroyed and cursed skin, those tattoos and wounds and gashes) and had approached without saying a word. Genya had turned pale and stepped back, muscles weakened by the fight but still able to stand, wounds healed and thin scars the last reminder of the blows that had pierced him from side to side, and Muichiro hadn't stopped.
He had planted himself a few centimeters from him, observing him from below with his head tilted like a cat's, and had spoken in a firm voice.
"I'm tired. Carry me on your back"
Genya had stood still for a second, feeling a vein on his forehead almost pop through his skin, the irritation growing and boiling under his skin, but he continued to stare at the Pillar.
Muichiro Tokito looked despite all unharmed, and kept looking at him with an unreadable expression on his face, but Genya could see where the strangely large uniform was cut, where a trickle of blood was still leaking from a worrying deep wound on his face, and his ears (always more sensible after his transformations into demon, like all his other senses) heard the almost shortened breath of the boy in front of him, well hidden by the stillness of his chest.
He gave him one last look, and turned away, lowering himself on one knee and slightly raising his arms in silent invitation (he would beat himself up for being so informal and disrespectful the next day, but right now he could think of nothing but sleep).
Muichiro had put strength on his arms, his decidedly small hands pushing against his shoulders, and Genya had taken the initiative by wrapping the boy's calves with his hands, lifting him up and letting him wrap around him. He stood still for a second, ensuring the stability of his grip, and ignored the Pillar's hair brushing his neck and semi-bared chest as he walked over to where he heard the most noises.
The next day, ready to go back to the Demon Slayers Headquarters, Muichiro sat next to him on the chariot, and didn't uttered a word, limiting himself to practically staying attached to Genya and spending long minutes observing him.
That made him uncomfortable? Yes, definitely.
Especially when he was so aware of the way he looked.
And did he understand why Muichiro was doing all that? No, definitely.
Muichiro alternated those long stares with casual talks with Tanjiro and with short questions to the demon girl who managed to stay under the sun (what would have happened to him if he ingested part of her?) and who still couldn't talk; then, from time to time, he would comment sharply about the things the Pillar that helped them, Mitsuri Kanroji, creator of the Love Breathing and a woman with a decidedly poor conception of privacy, had said.
("Shinazugawa-kun, come eat with us!" "Genya-kun, can I call you that? It's just that it confuses me to call you by your last name, you know, because of your brother, do you want to join us for training?" "Shinazugawa-kun , do you often talk to your brother? He never told us about you, and I wonder why, you're such a cute boy!" "You don't use a breathing style? Then how do you kill demons?" "Genya-kun, you're so strong! You're quite adorable, I just want to hug you!")
But afterward, he looked at him again with those clear eyes, something he didn't understand in those aquamarine irises (eyes as light as the tips of his dark hair, a blue that fitted so well with his whole persona) and apparently unaware of Genya's embarrassment.
He felt Muichiro Tokito's eyes fixed on his own violet irises, on the scar that ran horizontally across his face cutting his nose from under his right eye to his temple, on the scars visible because of the sleeveless uniform he had worn to improve the mobility of his shoulders after all that fatigue, that cut into his biceps and arms as a visible reminder of every battle he had ever escaped (of his weakness that made it impossible for him not to be covered in marks after marks), on his hair which he had managed to wash carefully that morning before leaving, on the tips that had lightened after that last battle, after the enormous stress caused to his body by the massive regeneration that had been requested of him.
(He had never hated a color so much).
They had arrived, and Genya had come down the wain, eager to complete the mission report and finally rest at the Stone Estate, when he felt the hand of the Mist Pillar grip his bare arm. The skin of his palm wasn't smooth, a few small scars scattered around the fingers, but it was still different from his own crackled skin (yet another symbol of the abyssal difference between them), and he tugged at him with a strength that someone else, not knowing who he was, would've found surprising.
"Yesterday was very comfortable. Carry me on your back again."
Genya was like petrified, his eyes fixed on the Pillar's lighter ones, which continued to be impassive, void of any sort of encouragement or... or anything else.
"Muichiro-san, are you okay?"
"Sure, Tanjiro-kun"
He didn't elaborate, and Tanjiro looked confused for a second. After another second his face lit up and he beamed, nodding and agreeing to only the gods knew what.
"I see! Genya-kun is really strong, and I'm sure it's really nice to be carried- or just held by him!"
"Mh...Genya-kun" he seemed to say to himself, now looking at the boy, his neck still tilted back and his eyes very clear with the warm light of the sun.
Genya turned and bent his knees a little, but the Pillar did nothing. He stayed motionless, and feeling the eyes of the others still on them, Genya huffed and lowered himself to the ground again, and surrounded Muichiro's thighs with his hands, lifting him from the ground.
Immediately he felt the younger's arms squeeze his neck and he began to walk, remembering the morning of the previous day where he'd found himself in the exact same situation.
And to say that he was fully aware of what was going on would have been anything but right.
And he kept walking towards the room where they would have been received by he still didn't know who, the only background noise being the constant chatter of Tanjiro and Mitsuri, and he tried to ignore the weight on his shoulders- not that it was that difficult (really minimal; Muichiro was almost his age, and weighed half his weight, and barely reached his shoulder), although it was strange that this featherweight was smelling him.
All right, the situation was escalating, and Genya felt his face warm up as he felt the Pillar inhale deeply on his neck. All right.
He prayed that the room ahead of them was the one to enter, and paused as a girl announced them.
"Pillars, Amane Ubuyashiki-sama, I'm here to discuss the battle against the two Uppermoons fought by the Pillars Muichiro Tokito and Kanroji Mitsuri, the kanoe Tanjiro Kamado and Genya Shinazugawa, and the demon Nezuko Kamado"
Genya had always been tall, since he was very young and already taller than his mother and older brother by several inches, and was used to towering over others.
One of the reasons he enjoyed Himejima-san's company so much was that he was one of the few people he knew who was taller than him (and didn't remember him his father).
Genya, once well trained and not malnourished anymore, had grown muscle by muscle, strengthening them and making them resilient enough for those transformations that sometimes tore at his skin leaving elongated light and dark marks on his skin, and he was wearing clothes that didn't leave much to the imagination.
Genya, as if all the rest weren't enough, had the Mist Pillar curled around him, who raised his head at the sound of his name and made no sign of wanting to get off his back.
And among the others, three stood out most of all.
Nezuko Kamado, who smiled at them with big pink eyes and said good morning in a weak but happy voice; Shinazugawa Genya, who stood there tallest of all and marked by scars in any visible flap of skin, who bore the same surname and too many features in common with their Wind Pillar; Tokito Muichiro, who looked at his colleagues smugly from where he had rested his chin on Genya's shoulder, his arms strong and squeezing the boy's shoulders around his neck.
Sure, Kanroji Mitsuri smiled and waved excitedly to see them again, and Tanjiro Kamado bowed his entire torso with his face open in an expression of joy, but it was the other three who… confused the most experienced swordsmen in all of Japan.
"Ah Muichiro-kun, I see you met Genya."
"He is very good at carrying others. He has nice arms. And he smells good."
"I agree!"
After Kanroji-sama's trill no one said anything, and an embarrassed silence descended on the room.
(And Genya avoided looking at his brother. They hadn't really seen each other for years. Nemi had been ignoring him for years, turning his back on him, refusing to even just look at him. And whose was the blame if not his?)
"I prayed for you, child, and seeing you safe is an immense joy" Gyomei didn't smile, but his usually stoic face seemed to soften for a second "A real luck, to see you all still alive and enriched by this experience."
"What is the reason behind this meeting? And the selection of those present here, that is."
Genya became a statue of ice, and at that moment Muichiro hit him on the shoulder, and the oldest bent his knees, and gripped the other's legs better, gently depositing him on the ground. Not that it helped, but it didn't seem polite to toss the boy, expecting him to be the one to make an effort not to end up on the floor.
Sanemi's eyes were fixed on his face, now on the bare arms, on the circular tattoos above the wrists, on the too numerous scars, on the tips of the sun-colored hair, on his big eyes and purple irises.
"Yesterday, Uppermoons 4 and 5 were killed by the summoned here, in a battle that ended in the secret Swordsmith village."
And now Sanemi was looking into his eyes, violet in violet, and they had never been so far away.
"Namu Amida Butsu" Himejima-san prayed and cried, hands rubbing together.
"Kamado Nezuko has gained the ability to endure the Sun, aiding his comrades in defeating the Uppermoons."
And Genya stopped paying attention to what was being said, not wanting to concentrate on what anyone was saying, his glassy eyes staring at something invisible and omnipotent.
Sanemi kept watching him secretly, and couldn't find the child he knew in anything of the person in front of him (Genya loved to carry their siblings on his back, and once he even managed to convince Sanemi to let him take him from one room to another, saying that he could still have fun, despite being the oldest).
This hadn't changed. Like the way he made sure whoever he was carrying stayed still, how he was careful getting them off, how he acted like the weight didn't exist.
Genya just said what he had to say. Because he didn't want to listen, with the weight of angry, burning eyes stuck to his skin.
⸻
He liked Genya Shinazugawa, and he also liked him when he saw him almost trembling, his black sclera clearing up again, his violet eyes lit up by adrenaline, his body getting almost smaller (if that could be called small) and only disgust and satisfaction in his face.
He had risen from where he had fallen to his knees, the last few superficial wounds healing and leaving thin scars in their place, his uniform practically in tatters, leaving his chest and parts of his legs completely exposed.
He noticed at that moment the tattoos on his wrists, black circles surrounding them in contrast with the skin, crisscrossed with old wounds that were random and not at all out of place. He looked like a tattoo guy, though he didn't know exactly what they meant.
However, he was liking Genya even now, as he bent down in front of him and confidently grabbed his leg, loading him on his back and starting to walk without showing the slightest difficulty.
Genya had been nice, and Muichiro was too tired to walk, and the boy's shoulders were just huge, and Muichiro wanted to touch them.
His brother would have made fun of him, probably (actually, surely), and would have laughed.
(It was strange to think such things, now that he could. He wanted to keep doing it. He wanted to keep remembering. He never wanted to stop remembering.)
Even the next day, he had observed Genya.
Genya was definitely weaker than him, but if he had been aiming to find someone as strong or stronger than him the selection would have been narrowed down to his fellow Pillars, and it just sucked.
Genya, even though he was weaker than him, was still there, alive and well, without a wound on his body and able to carry someone else on his shoulders - willing to do it.
Genya, despite being weaker than him, had become annoyed at his request, had looked him up, registered his tiredness and had complied without trying to reason with him.
Genya, despite being weaker than him, was truly kinder.
And Muichiro hadn't been able to afford much kindness until then, but now he wanted to (remembering Yuichiro, and how Muichiro had always been a kind child) and Genya interested him.
Genya again agreed to carry him on his shoulders, and Muichiro felt a strong but also delicate smell on his skin, a mix between the scent of roses deriving from the bath that the Love Pillar had offered them and something strong, but not unpleasant. A residue of demon's blood, and irises, and the scent of the forest in summer, when everything is alive and moving and no longer shyly facing the sunlight.
He couldn't resist his curiosity, and he rubbed his face into Genya's neck, inhaling hard and letting out a satisfied sigh as he sensed that smell again. Genya stiffened, but seemed to want to act like nothing was happening, like the ones walking with them.
Sanemi kept looking at Genya as if Tomioka had been in his place, and this definitely irritated him.
Sanemi had a kind brother like Genya and he didn't even bother to say hello.
(He didn't want to think about the fact that maybe between the two something had gone wrong. Genya was too kind and the idea that he had suffered as the scars he had everywhere showed made him sad. And right now, memories of his brother fresh in his mind, he couldn't even phantom not wanting to be with a brother.)
Once only the Pillars remained, Sanemi was practically attacked, and Muichiro refrained himself from smiling satisfied.
"Shinazugawa-san, your brother is so adorable!" Mitsuri-san squealed as she clutched red cheeks in her hands, shaking her head left and right, her eyes almost watering. Uh.
"Ah, Genya-kun is a really nice boy, though he may not appear to be so" Shinobu nodded knowingly. smiling at the man she had known for years (a man who, in her view, wasted the precious time he was allowed to spend with his remaining family to further some stupid belief), who glared at her with burning eyes.
"He's been training with me for months. He is a promising boy, in spite of everything."
"He looks much less mean than you." "What the fuck did you just say?" "Nothing."
"I guess it's your less depressed version."
"Enough about that useless kid, we have serious things to discuss"
(Sanemi didn't want to think about Genya, not now, nor ever.)
(Muichiro wanted to get on his back again.)
"You call him useless, but between you two he was the first to fight an Uppermoon" Muichiro looked at him with... hostility?
(Since when was the boy so expressive?)
What the hell had he just said? "And he's much nicer to be around. And taller, to top it off."
Sanemi held the hilt of his sword in his hands, and had to refrain himself from breaking it in two.
“My brother was like you in a way but you are even more annoying. Thankfully Genya is so different from you”
⸻
Genya saw Muichiro again after... two hours?
He had just made it back to the Stone Estate and had holed up in the nearest water source, a little lake, too tired to do anything else.
Himejima-san took him there after tiring, destructive workouts (every workout with Himejima-san was destructive) quite often, and Genya saw that place as his home. It was private, and there he could try to get better and ignore the truth to live a little better. His little secret paradise.
Apparently, Muichiro disagreed.
"Genya-kun"
His first instinct was to pick up the nearby stone (as big as his head) and throw it at him, and of course he followed that instinct, realizing only after a second that he had nearly killed the Mist Pillar. With horror, he saw the boulder approaching the boy's face with increasing speed, who without a grimace on his face merely bent his torso backwards, the boulder continuing to head towards the tree behind Muichiro, hitting it and getting stuck in the cortex.
It stayed there, nearly cutting the dangerously swaying tree in two, and Muichiro jerked his torso up in a lightning move.
"Genya-kun" he repeated.
"I'm sorry" he stood up urgently, ignoring the sodden pants sticking to his skin annoyingly as he moved towards the other, feeling his face burn at the hideous impression he had just made "You caught me off guard, I'm s-"
"Isn't eating demons annoying?"
He froze at a foot from the Pillar, hand still raised apologetically and ignoring the wind chilling his chest.
He didn't answer, and Muichiro continued to look at him blankly, his aquamarine eyes hiding a hint of… curiosity?
He didn't seem hostile, and Genya didn't want to be angry.
(Getting angry was the easiest thing, but it was tiring most of all. And it left the worst trail on others while apparently saving himself.)
"Why are you interested?" and he wanted to understand why the hell Muichiro Tokito was giving him so much attention when there were people upon people more deserving of talking to him, like Tanjiro.
(Strong people, not weak like Genya.)
"Because just seeing them disgusts me, I could never imagine having to eat them. But you have an interesting power. You looked disgusted when you turned human again. Does it suck that much?"
Genya stayed silent, considering what he could do.
He could turn around, return to his peace.
He could ignore him and make himself enemy of another Pillar, someone much stronger than him, but in the end there was already Sanemi who hated him (and the Pillar with the snake around his neck had looked at him strangely), what would one more have done?
He could answer him, say things that weren't true, or he could answer sincerely.
Muichiro was much shorter than him, and his long dark hair didn't make him look any more mature, at all. They were almost the same age.
(Genya hated adults.)
"They taste revolting. And I don't think it's that interesting"
"Tell me about it"
Genya was only ten years old when he discovered what he was capable of doing.
He'd been attacked by a demon, and had ended up eating a clump of her hair as the woman stood on top of him, his entire right hand missing from where she'd just bitten him.
Genya had felt his arms turn like iron, a horrible taste spreading through his stomach, sticking to his tongue and making his head feel heavy. He felt his body tremble as a horrible pain seized the bleeding stump of his right hand, and he turned his gaze slightly to see in horror the muscle filaments that regenerated in a macabre spectacle, the fingers that were going to form again and an enormous scar that marked where the meat had started to advance again.
He'd moved his hand against her head to punch her, and screamed in horror as he felt her warm blood fall all over him, from where he'd severed most of her face.
Himejima had found him kneeling on the ground, as he stared at his trembling hands, his body shacking in uncontrollable spasms and a headless demon abandoned nearby.
He didn't remember what the man had said to him, only that he had looked up at him, and the Pillar had stopped talking.
He had continued to watch him.
Genya had lifted his head, staring into the man's clear eyes, and his sclera was returning to his original color, black receding like ink towards his pupil, just desperation in his face.
Himejima had smelled the blood of the demon, and a demon still alive, crying in fear. He'd thought a boy had been transformed, but the smell had faded, and the pulse was human again.
Himejima had questioned him about what had happened, and had welcomed him into his estate, and had offered him help (amazed by his comrade Pillar's brother, amazed by that power as rare as damned).
Genya owed everything to Himejima.
(The mansion's only cat stretched out in front of them as they sat praying in the twilight, the little feline purring and Himejima allowing it to sit on his shoulders, Genya laughing at it when they finished.)
"I discovered it by accident. And I don't become a demon, I just acquire some of their characteristics."
"I saw your eyes being completely black."
"That's creepy, I know" he sighed as he sat down again, feeling his abdominal muscles and latissimus dorsi tense and urgently ask to be relaxed, and he agreed to his brain's warnings trying to stretch as many muscle bundles as possible.
"Any other physical changes?"
"It depends on the demon I'm dealing with."
"The prettiest feature you've ever been given?"
He stared at him speechless, astonished to see Muichiro's expectant eyes, who in the meantime had sat down in front of him on another stone, his feet soaking in the water from where he had lifted his baggy trousers.
"They're never pretty."
"I'm sure a cat demon could give you something nice" he didn't answer, praying the gods to figure out what was going on "Muscle strength?"
"I'm already training with Himejima-san for that one."
"Oh, I see."
He became aware of the fact that he was practically naked in front of the other (the other who didn't hesitate to analyze him with critical eyes), his pants so wet that their presence didn't change the situation much and the top of his uniform abandoned nearby at rises.
"It changes when you transform?"
"Definitely."
"With the Uppermoon, how much did your strength grow?"
"I could easily uproot entire ancient trees and throw them. But with real flesh, or blood, I could do much better" he crossed his arms in front of his chest, his cheeks still burning under Muichiro's curiosity, who tilted his head (he seemed to do it often, like a cat- a cat) curious and waiting for new information "But it's the first time I've consumed a demon this powerful, I only managed to get a Lowermoon with horns months ago."
"Any horns sprouted?"
He almost shuddered at the memory "Feeling them popping out was really annoying."
"When you regenerate does it leave scars?"
"As you can see."
"If someone completely cut off your arm while you were transformed would it grow back with no scars other than those from the cut?"
He blinked and almost smiled, but stopped himself from doing it (he didn't want to be so expressive. He still didn't trust the Pillar).
"Probably."
"You don't do it for your tattoos, are they important to you?"
Genya stiffened again.
Suddenly the wind was blowing stronger than before. Suddenly he got goosebumps. Suddenly, the desire to yell at the other became strong. Scenarios suddenly flashed through his mind where he destroyed the whole Estate, where he laughed, where he punched the Pillar to death, where he ran away, where he cried, where Himejima-san found him dead after that he had attacked Muichiro and the boy had decided he didn't want to be patient anymore.
Suddenly, he saw himself in a filthy cell that hadn't been cleaned for years. His wrists burned like death itself, the unsanitized wound on his face igniting with every passing second. Wrists burned. Where the needles had hit his skin, it burned.
“Uzui-san has tattoos too, but for a tradition that replicated kimono patterns – some kind of redemption gesture, I think. They're really beautiful, but so are yours. Very minimalistic though. And the lines are a little shaky."
That man who had looked at him with contempt, as he pierced inch by inch of the soft skin of a child, a child who wore clothes still stained with the blood of the siblings he had (not) killed, while the child screamed and prayed and called his brother (his brother wasn't there, wasn't there, he wasn't there).
Ice on scars that didn't deserve any kind of comfort. That deserved to stay there to rot, to be looked at with hatred, to create disgust, to burn. That deserved to burn and burn and burn.
"Don't you know what they mean?"
Muichiro hadn't broken Genya's silence, because those tattoos were more than he thought apparently. Because Genya wanted to wait, and he would have waited (because Genya's kindness was gone, and he was left with only a body that had been hit too many times).
"No. Can you explain it to me?"
"I can't"
"Good. If you drink the blood of Muzan himself, will you become a demon or is it just impossible for you?"
"I've never met Muzan, you idiot. How would I ever know?"
"I don't know, by assuming?"
Genya tried to smile, chasing away the ghosts. Just that curious face and aquamarine eyes fixed on him.
"It would be great, you know, even if I wouldn't reach his level, not without all his experience."
"With it you could aspire to be as strong as-"
He couldn't hold back any longer.
"Doesn't it disgust you?"
His voice had risen, and Genya knew it, he knew he was being disrespectful to one of his superiors, but he didn't really care much, not if the aforementioned superior continued to show such interest in such a thing.
But not as interested as Kocho-sensei was, who smiled but looked at him pityingly every time he had to report yet another scar, another transformation, had to do yet another check up, had to discuss in a serious tone the repercussions of demonic cells in his system.
Interested as if there was something glamorous about the desperate show Genya put on every time to feel better about himself.
"What should disgust me?" and Muichiro looked really confused this time, despite his almost blank eyes.
(Focus on the aquamarine, the aquamarine.)
"The fact that while you and everyone else kill demons I have to eat them, Tokito-san"
"Call me Muichiro"
"Fucking helle, stop it!"
"What's ugly about the fact that you can't use Breathing Styles? And is there something less... I can't remember the word. Beautiful. Something less beautiful than how you can compensate for it with the person you are?"
("Your body is like a temple, child. You have to take care of it, or it won't take care of you."
"How can I do this?"
"You will really only discover this with time. In the meantime, learn to understand, and appreciate it."
"I can't, master."
"You are not alone in this, my child.")
"Weakness is not beauty, Muichiro"
"Of course you're less strong than me Genya-kun. But you're really kind, and I don't think many would be able to suffer like this to live in peace. Not many would consider it an acceptable price to pay."
"Would you accept it, given the chance?"
"I don't know. Now can you tell me about your scars?"
"Which of the many, my lord."
"You call me that, so you won't object to still carrying me on your back whenever I wish."
Genya placed his palms against the wooden block behind him and half lay back, feeling a smile creep across his face, his eyes relaxing ever so slightly.
"No."
"The one on the hip?"
"It was a rather useless demon."
"I can only imagine."