Red Royal Flush

XII. A replacement

*Spotify playlist for the chapter, brought to you by @_anasta: Red Royal Flush on Spotify

There's something about life that would always make Zenitsu crazy: the fact that he didn't always control everything.

Nature was the first proof of that. The large rock that he was sitting on was covered in humid green moss patches, dampening his kimono as his eyes wandered to the vast forests of the Butterfly Region; a reminiscence that he was still nothing. The river at his feet would always flow and the forest surrounding him would always sway.

But he... he was alone. And he wasn't an always. Just like these trees, one day, he'd get replaced. But unlike them, he didn't truly belong anywhere. 

Zenitsu was a lonely pine tree.

A faint fluttering sound caught his attention. He gazed to his left, noticing the white-troated kingfisher on a neighboring branch. Its gaze was intently fixed on the river, patiently waiting for a fish to commit a deadly mistake.

Live to kill or live to get killed, Masahi was right. But Zenitsu didn't feel like killing the prince anymore. And that's what made him feel worthless. 

"God.." he muttered, hiding his face in his hands. "I want to..." What did he even want? At the end of the day, did he even know himself enough to understand himself? 

He thought back to what he had told Tanjiro after their training. How the prince had reacted when he had told him that he needed some time alone. How his eyebrows had raised, then furrowed. How his voice had been laced with worry. And, ultimately, how understanding he had been, giving him some space.

He probably thinks I'm crazy...

Zenitsu's hand reached down, at his right, where water and earth merged into one, tearing off a tuft of grass and clutching his fingers tightly around it. The grass was wet, probably due to the desperate kingfisher flying in and out of the water without any prize to claim.

I don't like my first name that much. I like it when it comes out of your mouth.

The prince had pronounced those words, and yet, Zenitsu found it hard to believe. Something was off about their relationship. If Tanjiro hated Masahi that much, why would he try to befriend him? Zenitsu Agatsuma, the adoptive son of the world's biggest asshole; and yet, when Tanjiro looked at him, Zenitsu didn't feel like Masahi.

As stupid as it sounded, it was a step closer to feeling human. And Zenitsu liked that. 

A cold feeling poked at his ribs. The blade, Zenitsu remembered. He didn't know what to do with it. He had attached it to his chest with bandages that were meant to protect his wounds, pretending that he needed new ones. Carrying a mortal promise was already a horrible thing to bear, and he felt even guiltier now that he had lied to the prince. 

Maybe I should give him something. Like a gift.

Zenitsu lifted a hand to trace his fingers along the metallic tool hidden beneath his clothes, tempted to throw it away. Would that count as a gift? A new future. A new path, away from the whispers of death. Maybe the kingfisher would be better at using it anyway.

When he looked to his left, the bird had flown away. 

His hands clutched harder onto the blade. There had been some shuffling in the woods. Zenitsu had spent his childhood in the welcoming arms of nature, but this threatening sound hadn't been caused by an animal. No matter how animalistic it sounded, it was human. 

He glanced around. Nothing. The forest was eerily silent. He gritted his teeth in anticipation as his ears perked up. The steady thumps of his heart got lost in a discordant melody, his throat getting tighter as he found it harder to breathe.