Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, as Muichiro Tokito continued his mission with Tanjiro Kamado. The bond between them grew steadily, though it remained unspoken. Tanjiro's optimism, his unwavering commitment to others, his bright smile—everything about him seemed to pull Muichiro closer, like an invisible thread tightening around his heart.
Muichiro had always been a man of few words, a soul hardened by grief and loss. The tragic death of his parents, the brutal sacrifice of his twin brother, Yuichiro—it had all left scars too deep to heal. And yet, despite himself, Tanjiro had found a way under his skin. There was no denying it now—Muichiro had become drawn to the younger boy in ways he could neither explain nor control.
It started innocently enough. Tanjiro’s infectious enthusiasm and his sincere nature made working together a little less lonely. They fought side by side against demons, sharing the same goal, the same conviction. But as time passed, Muichiro’s admiration for him began to transform, twisting into something darker. Something more intense.
At first, Muichiro tried to ignore the thoughts that lingered at the back of his mind. He focused on his swordsmanship, on the mission. But it became harder and harder to push the growing feelings aside. He would catch himself looking at Tanjiro more often than necessary, watching the way his eyes softened when he spoke of his family, or the way his lips curved into that soft, knowing smile. **What is this?** Muichiro would ask himself in frustration, trying to force his thoughts back into a place where they belonged.
But no matter how hard he tried, those feelings refused to dissipate.
---
One night, they were traveling through a dense forest, making their way toward a village where a new demon threat had been reported. The air was thick with the scent of pine and damp earth. Muichiro could feel the cool breeze biting at his exposed skin, but his mind was elsewhere, lost in thought.
Tanjiro, as always, walked beside him, his wooden sandals clicking softly against the path. He looked over at Muichiro with a smile. "You okay, Muichiro? You’ve been awfully quiet tonight."
Muichiro blinked, shaken from his thoughts. He quickly turned his head, meeting Tanjiro's gaze. The younger boy’s face was concerned, but there was no judgment there, only a quiet warmth. Tanjiro had always been like that—tuning into others without ever needing to ask. It was one of the things that made him stand out.
"I’m fine," Muichiro replied, his voice more clipped than he intended. He turned his gaze back to the path ahead of them, his breath coming in soft, measured bursts.
But Tanjiro didn’t let it go that easily. "If there’s something on your mind, you can tell me, you know. We’ve been through a lot together."
Muichiro’s heart skipped a beat, and he felt a strange pang in his chest. **Tell him?** The thought was both comforting and terrifying. How could he explain to Tanjiro what he was feeling? How could he put into words the way his heart raced when he was near him, the way his breath caught when their fingers brushed in passing, the way his thoughts spiraled out of control at the mere thought of Tanjiro’s smile?
But instead of speaking the words that were so tangled in his throat, Muichiro did the only thing he knew how to do. He withdrew into silence.
"I’m just tired," he said finally, his voice low. "We’ve been traveling for days. I’m sure it’s nothing."
Tanjiro’s expression softened with understanding. "I see. Well, I’ll keep you company, okay? We don’t have to rush through this mission. We can rest if you need to."
Muichiro didn’t answer right away, but the thought of Tanjiro staying by his side—protecting him, caring for him in ways that seemed so natural—sent a strange warmth flooding through his chest. He didn’t understand why he felt so drawn to the boy, but he did. The longer they traveled together, the more it consumed him.
---
It wasn’t long before the mission took a turn for the worse. The demon they were tracking was more powerful than expected, its abilities far beyond anything they had encountered before. By the time they reached the village, the demon had already slaughtered several innocent people, its bloodlust insatiable.
They quickly found themselves engaged in a brutal battle, with the demon using its speed and cunning to its advantage. Muichiro and Tanjiro fought together, their movements synchronized like two halves of a whole. But as the fight dragged on, Muichiro began to notice something troubling—Tanjiro was weakening.
His breaths were more labored. His sword swung slower. His movements, while still sharp, lacked the same vitality they usually had. Muichiro felt his stomach twist with unease.
"Tanjiro!" Muichiro called out, his voice sharp with concern. He moved to block a demon attack aimed at Tanjiro, slashing through the air with precise, deadly strikes. But his gaze never left the boy.
"I’m fine," Tanjiro gritted out, though his voice was strained. "Just... need to catch my breath."
But Muichiro could see the blood soaking through Tanjiro's uniform, could see the way his shoulders slumped. The sight of Tanjiro—someone so full of life, someone who had come to mean so much to him—hurt in ways Muichiro couldn’t explain.
Without thinking, Muichiro pushed forward, taking the brunt of the demon's assault in an effort to protect Tanjiro. The demon’s claws slashed across his back, leaving deep gashes, but Muichiro didn’t care. His only thought was Tanjiro—Tanjiro and the way his life seemed so fragile in this moment.
The demon screeched in fury as Tanjiro finally found his resolve, plunging his sword into the demon’s heart. It dissolved into ash, its blood staining the earth beneath them.
As the battle came to an end, Muichiro collapsed to his knees, his chest heaving with exhaustion. His body ached, but it wasn’t the pain that made his stomach churn. It was the sight of Tanjiro, breathing heavily, his body covered in cuts and bruises.
"Tanjiro..." Muichiro breathed, his voice low and hoarse. His heart thundered in his chest as he reached out, grabbing Tanjiro’s shoulder.
Tanjiro looked down at him, eyes filled with concern. "Muichiro? You’re hurt."
"I’m fine," Muichiro said, though his voice was strained. His head swam with dizziness, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of Tanjiro.
Tanjiro frowned, his brow furrowing as he tried to tend to Muichiro’s wounds. "No, you’re not. You need rest. I can help."
But Muichiro shook his head, his grip tightening on Tanjiro’s shoulder. "Please, don’t... don’t leave me."
Tanjiro’s expression softened, and he nodded, though confusion flickered in his eyes. "I’m not going anywhere, Muichiro. I’m here."
Muichiro could hardly breathe. The words he had been holding back for so long were threatening to burst out of him, the need to say something, anything, to explain what he was feeling. But instead, he only nodded weakly, his heart pounding in his chest.
Tanjiro didn’t know how much his presence meant to him. He didn’t know how deeply Muichiro had come to care for him. It wasn’t just admiration anymore. It was something more dangerous. Something darker. Muichiro didn’t want to admit it, but he had become obsessed.
Every time he looked at Tanjiro, his pulse quickened. Every time they fought together, Muichiro felt a burning desire to protect him, to be the one who kept him safe. And when Tanjiro smiled, his heart would seize, as if the very sight of it could tear him apart.
Muichiro didn’t know how to live with this obsession. All he knew was that he couldn’t imagine a world without Tanjiro in it. He was no longer sure if he was fighting for justice or fighting for something else entirely—a selfish need to keep the one person he had come to rely on by his side.
He was falling deeper, further into this darkness, and he didn’t know if he could stop.
