Demon Slayer Oneshots

☁️Zenitsu/Reader: The Rouge Ruse Part 9

Chapter 9: Perceived Shortcomings

Zenitsu wiped the tears from the corners of his eyes as he ran, determined to keep a stiff upper lip. He hated leaving you on bad terms like that. You looked so worried when he walked out the door... But he couldn't stand to be in your presence a moment longer, not after what you had just said.

Humbled was one word that could be used to describe the pain in Zenitsu's heart right now, but that still didn't seem quite deep or convicting enough to do it justice. Now that he thought about it, the feeling was probably closer to shame than anything else. He had been cut to the quick in a way he couldn't describe, yet surprisingly enough, he wasn't even hurt by your rejection of his marriage proposal. Instead he was stunned, astounded by the boundless range of his own selfishness. He was stranded in an open field of it, with no one and nothing else in sight for miles in every direction.

If asked point-blank he would have denied it, but the ugly truth of why he'd been dawdling around his suspicions of the Oiran were clear. He got caught up in it... in all of it. In the warm domesticity of mundane routine, in the minor ways the girls needed him, basking in what he presumed it must've felt like to have a family...

But his very definition had been stripped bare in that teahouse, fully exposed for the empty black hole it truly was. That ache in your heart he heard when you looked up at him, afraid of leaving him behind... it was in that instant he finally understood. That was what a family was. Not his selfish need for comfort, but a noble desire to raise up your own, making sacrifices for one another. It was clear from your conversation that you'd rather slog through the mud alongside them than waltz effortlessly through the rest of your life in their absence.

It was duty. It was obligation. It was work. Loyalty unwavering and resolute in the face of adversity. Such a thing was bright and shining in his eyes, and Zenitsu knew he could no longer settle for anything less than something so real.

After you'd exposed his hollow existence, dragged it kicking and screaming into the sunlight, he knew he wasn't worthy. Couldn't bear another kind glance from you in that teahouse. And he knew for damn sure he couldn't face you again until he'd done his true duty, one that he owed to you and all the other girls here from the start...

Not only that, but your literal choice of words had sparked a second realization in him as well. 'Sweep me away...' It struck a peculiar chord of significance in him when you said it, and it was more than just the parallel concept of girls being swept away in the night. 'Ah!' And then he remembered. The evening of his first hosting event, when he had to play the koto for Momo, that unsettling sweeping sound passed outside of his room. It was a slithering of fabric, no louder than the casual brush stroke of calligraphy on parchment. Back then he had assumed the Oiran was just impressive, exceptionally trained in her ability to walk so silently and gracefully. But deep down he knew the sound was otherworldly.

So why... why hadn't he pursued that? He knew the answer immediately. Because he had fallen prey to arguably the greatest of his many many weaknesses... and that was love. Zenitsu wanted to kick himself. Isn't this how his life began? Getting involved with a woman in debt and paying it off in sweat, blood and tears? Sooo many tears... But this was different. Since then he'd learned to discern between those he could and couldn't trust. You weren't just using him to an end like she did. No. You had a kind and genuine heart. You truly cared for him, as you did Chiyo and Momo and Omitsu.

The Oiran was kidnapping the girls using her obi, which must have been endowed with some sort of demonic power- silencing screams, muffling struggle- and that explained why he didn't hear the altercation even while he was staying there. The reason such a profound revelation didn't hit him as hard as Gramps's cane was because he must've known it from the beginning. His chest stirred with far more guilt than fear, for it was evident that his own lack of gumption was as big of a danger to you and the others as the Oiran herself. But that wouldn't be so any longer. These girls were being abused, stolen, and he couldn't wait another moment. Tonight, with the help of his friends, he would uproot the tyrannical woman, beg your forgiveness, and propose to you properly. And if you wouldn't have him he'd see to it that you took the Oiran's place, rose to meet your dreams... or at least that's what he told himself. He knew in reality if you rejected him he'd likely bawl and plead and grovel until you caved in and said yes. After this whole thing he recognized he wasn't noble enough for all that. But he at least wasn't bad enough to allow his selfish desires to guide his actions any longer, not at the expense of any more disappearances. No more innocents would be affected, not on his watch.