thanatos | tanjiro kamado

五 | leniency

TANJIRO WAS FRANTIC. His knees bent as he pushed past boxes, Y/n silently drifting behind him. She was too stunned to speak and it was all too much to process. Tanjiro knew she died, he knew his words were behind her death, but to know she was actually murdered? It was heartbreaking.

He owed it all to her to bid her goodbye in the afterlife. And according to her own words, how could she rest in peace if he doesn't give it his all to fight for his own living spirit too? "They don't know who killed you and you aren't allowed to say it." He deduced fairly quickly, shuffling through more boxes.

His chest heaved and he coughed lightly. The dust of the attic began to get to him, surfing through his lungs and contaminating his oxygen. It was stuffy and uncomfortable, but he kept searching anyway. Y/n's lips were pursed and she mimicked a fish out of water, her mouth opening and then closing as she debated on what to respond with.

"I know who killed me," That was all the verification Tanjiro needed and he pushed away another box, not even bothered when it clattered against the attic's walls. Another box slid on the floor, thumping against the other pile of boxes. After quite literally picking up and tossing a box full of Nezuko and Tanjiro's old toys, he finally found the box he was looking for.

"It's hard to see your complete features since you're pretty translucent, but that picture was clear as day and I think I remember you now," His brows furrowed. Y/n's heart thumped in her chest and she swallowed harshly, still unable to say anything. However, Tanjiro didn't seem to be bothered by her silence in the least.

"I hope so," It was a small and hopeful whisper and Y/n couldn't find it within herself to admit that she was thinking the same. She hoped that Tanjiro remembered her. She hoped that Tanjiro could develop a will to fight for himself and her. She hoped that Tanjiro would be able to save her soul; to give her justice before either she or both of them escaped to the afterlife.

He pulled out an old book, flipping through it a few times before setting it down with a click of his tongue. Y/n didn't need to check to know why he treated the book so gently; it was heavy and little plastic covers stuck out from within it: an album. Judging by the dust it's collected, it seemed to be from when his parents were still alive too.

Tanjiro pulled out another book that looked similar to it but it seemed like none of them were satisfying him. There were so many to look through and he kept flipping through them, irritably clicking his tongue, and sliding them to the side. "You still have the photo of us?" Tanjiro froze when Y/n finally spoke.

He looked over his shoulder and he let out a bated breath as if he was scared that he had been wrong all along but now his suspicions had finally been proven right. "You are a ghost of my past." Y/n gave him a sheepish smile and all Tanjiro could do was smile widely back at her, pure joy filling his system.

It only seemed to encourage him more as he pushed the books aside in the box. His eyes settled on what he was looking for, his fingers reaching to the very bottom for the wrinkly and oddly folded photo. It fit perfectly into his fingers, slightly thin and flexible due to its age. It was peeling and the edges were yellow, but it was clear as day.

Tanjiro stood, a big smile on his face as he had an arm around Y/n. She seemed nervous, but there was a smile on her face too, her eyes focused on him rather than the camera. Nothing had changed about her since then except maybe her nose and the size of her forehead. However, she still looked the same.

There were also hands settled on their shoulders; one on each shoulder. From the looks of it, it was Y/n's mother. Y/n's heart twisted at the sight of her mother's wedding ring: a simple gold band with an opal gem at the very middle. 

Tanjiro stared at it for a bit, but Y/n could tell he wasn't holding it up in front of his face for so long for himself. He was holding it so Y/n could drink in the sight of their unsaid childhood. The maroon-haired male flipped over the polaroid, his eyes settling on the neatly written date on the back. 

His heart grew fond at the sight of his mother's handwriting and Y/n watched his face as a warm smile spread across his lips. "This was before we moved," A small sigh left his lips, a solemn glint showing in her eyes. Whatever fondness he was feeling disappeared within a second and he could feel himself miss the days in which it wasn't just Nezuko and him.

Where he wasn't so adamant about being the best big brother because he was still a kid.

And he had so much growing up to do back then.

"That neighborhood still exists, y'know?" Her voice was soft but suggestive. Tanjiro looked at her and then back at the picture. Reapers aren't allowed to lie, but she isn't allowed to say anything that's completely certain unless I know about it. He knew what she was saying; she didn't have to say anymore.

"Let's go there tonight then,"

"Tonight?"

"We don't have much time."

Y/n's eyes flitted up towards him, watching as he slowly stood up and began to move the boxes back into their place. He used gentle hands, however, to lift the books and put them back into the box. Her heart pounded in her chest, realizing that this man was willing to go to the very lengths she had hoped he would go.

He was willing to solve her own murder to save himself.

He was willing to solve her own murder to put her soul to rest.

"Kamado Tanjiro," Y/n spoke, making him pause and turn to her quizzically.

"What?"

"Fight to stay on Earth; I'd rather let my soul burn inside-out than take your soul too soon."