Mary On A Cross ✔

X.

28. Tanjiro

A smile was on your face was you stood before him. He looked like the literal copy of Tanjuro, aside from his nose and shape of his lips that were from his mother. His hair was a mess over his head that was slicked back.

His face looked much more defined and sharp than what you had drawn him as. There were some stress lines over his forehead that showed how much stress he had with a demon sister that her mentality was from a five year old.

His smile was a bit forced and a pair of deep blank bangs hung under his eyes.

"dear, you look terrible," was the first thing you said as little [Y/N] was sitting beside me playing with her rag dol. "You need to rest, that is why you're here."

"Ruka-Sama," he spoke with a shy tone his calloused hands played with the hem of his infirmary uniform, "don't worry about me, I'll be fine."

The gesture he made with his hands and the very weird expression that twisted on his face showed his obvious lie, "don't lie to me Tanjiro, you are just like your father." Those last words were from Ruka, not yours.

His eyes flashed as I spoke as rage filled his maroon eyes, "what do you mean? Have you ever met him to say that?"

"indeed I have, who wouldn't have remembered their younger sibling." His eyes widened in joy, "I am your only known family of the fallen Kamado Clan, the only one you'll know of. After all Kibutsuji is hunting us down."

His growing smile dropped to another glare not towards you but to the wooden floor that you sat on. His eyes darkened showing hate and a horrifying amount of rage, it was worse than when you draw his anger towards the king.

To be honest Muzan didn't visit for a while after Rui passed away and he brought the news to you. He looked sad and defeated in a way not he never told you what he felt even if he hid it well - but he couldn't against the woman that created him.

"how did you survive?" he asked after a few seconds of silence.

you smiled, "it happened a bit before my wedding and I was already living with my husband and Tanjuro went to live away with Kie - your mother." you didn't explain that you didn't feel an ounce of remorse for their deaths.

"why did father say that we were coal sellers when we were a clan?" he asked as he poured tea for both of us that was on the low table between us.

you blinked twice, "oh, we did sell coal to cover up that we were filled with-. . ." you stopped tell him that you were actually a clan of samurai? Or lie about that? "we were a clan filled with samurai and some did the coal job to cover that up from Kibutsuji."

"oh really?!!" his anger just switched to such joy it made you worried. "maybe do you know about the Dance of the Fire God?"

You simply shook your head with a sad frown, "no I have never learned it - or I never remember."

***

(third POV)

It a dark night when a girl was born, a girl with midnight raven hair and maroon eyes, void of any marks and was simply named 'Ruka', her father wasn't so pleased of having a girl as a first born, but glad enough of her being healthy.

After all now girls were allowed to practise sword fighting so he just let it be, and decided that when she turned five her training would start for the ritual that should be made when turned six.

A year later another child was born, this time a boy, raven hair with red tips a very odd mark on his left forehead, it was two shade darker than his tan skin, like a dried off scar.

The father was overjoyed! The mark was on the left side of his forehead and inherited the hair of the first user of the breath. Every male that born always came with marking on their necks, name cheek arm, waist and other body parts, but never the forehead.

The two siblings grew with the same amount of love and attention Tanjuro growing with a stoic facial expression and calm personality that Ruka also grew having with a wise gaze.

Both trained as hard to complete the dance that later with transform into what was the actual sun Breathing. Ruka being the oldest was expected to have the earrings so she was trained harder. It made her tired by how much she was pushed to know the dance at age five.

She needed to perform soon enough, but deep inside she knew that she couldn't make it, the pressure was too high for her small body, she bleed from how sometimes she would get so tired but was forced to continue over her limit.

She was baffled whenever she saw Tanjuro be so calm whenever he was dancing late at night with the instructor. His face was void of any emotion he was like a plant, calm but beautiful, even at the worse times.

It made a new feeling start to grow but shook it off.

When one day she was dragged into a night snow filled garden late at night she just wore her training attire, the white kimono and wide red hakama pants paired with some thin white tabi socks and her zori sandals.

The problem for her was the cold of winter night, the snow was falling still heavily. Tall torches marked a circle in middle of the forest at the back of the main manor. Tanjuro was also wearing the training attire but was barefoot, and the bottom of his feet started to shade a pinker shade due to the cold.

But Tanjuro didn't shiver or trill at all.

Many of the other female members of the clan that was there wore a simple short sleeved yukata void of any haori. They too were barefoot. While the males just wore a simple long hakama pants and void of anything to cover their upper torso.

Tanjuro was the one that started his sword was from their father, and old sword that was fixed and handed onto him. While Ruka was handed a newly and freshly made katana the handle was handmade by Ruka herself.

The hand guard was made on a shape of a drop - a sundrop was a better word. The colour was a bright red and the edge was blood red.

Ruka's fingers grew red as they shook and trembled of the petrifying cold of the night. She kept her hands onto her side and tried to find comfort in the thin sleeves of her kimono. She hoped no one could see her doing so.

After all due to the breathing patter it shouldn't be as cold it should be hot. Everyone was practically half naked in a cold winter night.

Tanjuro finished all the twelve forms the snow beneath his feet melted into a puddle and dried out due to the heat he was emitting from the breathing technique. His moves were smooth and calculated making it look so good for a five year old.

Before Ruka knew it was over and a fog of cold steam came from her parted lips. Like that her brother came down with a huge round of applause of the family and it was her turn.