The eye of the storm (Sanemi x Reader)

39| Homey

Before you read the chapter, I want to remind you that the events of the story take place during the Taisho era, around 1915. The mindset of that time, especially in Japan, is not the same as it is today. I’ve tried to make it believable in relation to the era, but without making it unpleasant to read. I mention this in case some of the protagonist's thoughts seem off to you—please understand the period she is living in.

Without further ado, let's dive into the reading!

"Kocho said she doesn't know if he'll wake up," Zenitsu murmured, his gaze dark and filled with despair. His hands trembled, clenched into fists at his sides as he struggled to hold back tears. He was fighting so hard to stay strong. "If he doesn't wake up..."

Without a word, I placed an arm around his shoulders and pulled him close. We stood together in front of Grandpa's bed, where his mind seemed trapped in an eternal sleep.

"He will wake up," I whispered, though deep down I knew my words were an empty promise. "Grandpa is strong; he can overcome this."

Zenitsu let out a broken sigh, despair heavy in his voice as he responded, "It's been three weeks already."

The anguish in his words was palpable. I could see the hope slipping away from him, leaving him vulnerable. I held him tighter, offering an embrace that finally broke through the wall holding back his pain. Silent tears began to soak my haori as he cried.

It had only been a day since Kimura removed the stitches from my cheek and changed the bandages. Today, I returned to the Butterfly Mansion for several reasons: to see Grandpa, to speak with Tanjiro, and to check on Sanemi, since yesterday Shinobu had put his ankle in a cast. I decided the first stop would be Grandpa's room and Zenitsu was already there when I entered, having just returned from his mission.

"I will avenge Grandpa," he choked out between sobs, clutching my uniform with a desperation that tore at my heart. His dark eyes, reddened from crying, and his aura, heavy with fury, reminded me of myself on the day I swore to destroy Upper Moon One. I saw in him the same thirst for revenge that once consumed me.

"You've changed a lot these past few months," I said, smiling gently as I stroked his hair. "You used to cry over everything and give up easily."

He twisted his lips into a grimace. "I still cry," he admitted.

"Yes, but you're no longer a child. You've become a young adult. I'm proud of you."

A glimmer of light returned to his eyes, dispelling the darkness that vengeance had cast over them. Zenitsu pulled away, wiping his tears with the sleeve of his haori.

"You're not the same as you were a few weeks ago either," he said, looking at me. "I no longer see doubt in your eyes."

His words stunned me. Had I truly changed that much? Was it so obvious? Inside, I felt like the same person, with only one difference: now, I had a clear goal. Before, my ambitions were vague, uncertain. But now, they were etched into my soul: I would not allow anyone else to suffer as we had. I would not let any demon, especially Upper Moon One, take more lives if I could prevent it. I would fight with everything I had, improve, train until exhaustion if necessary, and I would not give up. Not this time. Not until I cut that fucker's head off.

I'm the fucking Thunder Pillar.

Grandpa, Master—they all believed in me, and I would not disappoint them. Never again.

"I want to be like that too," Zenitsu broke the silence, his voice bringing me back to reality. "I want to be like you."

His words filled me with indescribable gratitude. I affectionately stroked his head once more before saying goodbye to Grandpa. Zenitsu remained in the room as I left, aware that I had tasks to accomplish, starting with finding Tanjiro Kamado.