boketto || t. kamado

forty-three

It was eerily quiet, besides the overturned train.

None of us had really moved much. Zenitsu had joined, with the box containing Nezuko on his back.

I stared at the corpse wearing the flame-tipped white haori. A Hashira was now dead. A demon was still alive.

"When the train went off the rails," Zenitsu quietly said, "Rengoku had unleashed all these techniques. He must've kept the damage to the cars to a minimum."

"...I guess he did," Tanjiro solemnly said in reply, head bowed and staring at his lap.

"I can't believe he's gone," Zenitsu said. He rose in questioning, "I mean, did an Upper-Rank demon really show up?"

"Yeah," Tanjiro confirmed, voice a small hum.

"Why would an Upper Rank come here? Was it that strong? I mean..." The blonde asked but paused at the sight of Tanjiro.

His shoulder shook and he just shakily replied again, "Yeah."

I could see the tears begin to appear again, dripping into his lap as he clenched his fists. An aura was drenched in deep navy blue as he voiced, "I'm so frustrated. As soon as I master one thing, I find another thick wall right in front of me while more powerful people are fighting far beyond it. I just can't make it there yet!"

His frustration was something I could only imagine at that moment, but I continued to listen as he said, "If I'm still stumbling around in a place like this, can I... Can I... ever become like Rengoku?"

Zenitsu now had tears streaming down his face and lifted an arm to cover his eyes. I could see Inosuke shaking as well, swords still clutched in each grip. But I could hardly pay attention to them, with my gaze stuck on Tanjiro and the sorrowful aura and expression he held. So much pain stuck to him. So much heartache and despair. If I could take it for my own, I was sure I would in a heartbeat. If only I could.

If I'd figured out something to do, maybe all my friends wouldn't be crying right now. If I had been better - been stronger, been faster, hadn't frozen up, been more decisive, been more agile...

Better, better, better. If I had been better. How dare I call myself my Mother's child?

"Stop whining already!" Inosuke suddenly shouted, "Stop saying dumbass things like, 'Can I or can't I be like him?' He said he believes in you, so just think about how you're going to measure up to that! All living things just go back to the earth when they die! Sobbing and sniveling won't bring them back! Don't cry even if you have regrets! No matter how pathetic or humiliated you feel, you still have to go on living!"

Contrary to his words, tears were pooling out of the eyes of his mask. He'd made a strangely moving speech, considering it was him, but his ideals were in the right place and it was appreciated nonetheless.

Zenitsu voiced it in a thick voice, "But you're crying, too. There are tears flooding out from that headpiece."

He was met with a rough head butt, one that appeared frighteningly painful and I flinched at the sight. All three boys were sobbing, but now Inosuke wanted to pick a fight. He was still such a brute. But I don't expect that to ever differ.

Zenitsu fell to the ground after the impact, but Inosuke - still crying - began running around sobbing and swinging his swords. My breaths felt thick and I found it near unbearable to even look at Tanjiro. Every glance made tears want to well up in my eyes. My throat already felt thick - a single word would break me, no doubt. I stared hard into the forest.

Inosuke came running back, dashing past me and grabbing Tanjiro by the back of his haori. He dragged him away, shouting, "Get over here! We're gonna train!" but eventually gave up and just began hitting his fists against the warm boy's head.