The days following Muichiro’s confession were the hardest of his life. Every moment felt like a sharp blade pressing into his chest, the sting of rejection lingering in his heart like an open wound. He had laid himself bare before Tanjiro, exposing the deepest parts of himself—the parts that no one had ever seen. And in return, he had been met with kindness, but not love. Not the kind of love he had hoped for.
Tanjiro had always been a warm presence in his life, someone whose smile lit up the darkest of places, whose heart was so full of compassion that Muichiro couldn’t help but be drawn to him. But despite all of Tanjiro’s kindness, despite the unspoken bond that they had forged in battle, Muichiro’s confession had been too much, too soon.
---
The morning after, Muichiro woke up early, long before the sun had risen, his thoughts a storm of confusion. He couldn’t sleep. He hadn’t slept properly since he’d told Tanjiro how he felt.
He could still hear Tanjiro’s voice in his head, the words so gentle, so carefully chosen, as if he were treading on fragile ground. **"I don’t know what the future holds, Muichiro… But I’ll be here. I’ll always be by your side."**
Those words should have been comforting. They should have made him feel better. But instead, they only intensified the emptiness that had begun to settle in his chest. He wanted more. He wanted **Tanjiro**.
And yet, Tanjiro’s response wasn’t a rejection, not outright. But it wasn’t an acceptance either. It wasn’t what Muichiro had imagined when he had poured his heart out.
He knew that Tanjiro didn’t feel the same way. Tanjiro was kind, and he cared about him, but his love wasn’t like the kind that burned inside Muichiro’s chest. Tanjiro’s heart, it seemed, was already claimed by something else—by his family, by his mission, by the desire to avenge his fallen loved ones and rid the world of demons.
Tanjiro wasn’t in love with him. And Muichiro couldn’t stop himself from obsessing over it.
---
The days passed slowly, each one heavier than the last. Tanjiro had been distant, not out of malice, but because he simply didn’t know how to act around Muichiro after what had happened. Their conversations were polite but strained. Tanjiro smiled at him when they spoke, but it wasn’t the same smile that had once made Muichiro feel warm inside. It felt distant, a polite smile given out of obligation.
The more Tanjiro pulled away, the more Muichiro clung to him.
**He can’t be this kind to me and not feel something.** Muichiro thought, over and over. **He just doesn’t understand yet. He doesn’t realize what we could have together.**
Every time they went on a mission together, Muichiro watched Tanjiro closely—too closely. He noticed the way Tanjiro’s lips curled when he spoke to others, how his eyes would soften when he talked about his family, how his hand would tremble when holding a sword after a particularly close battle. And Muichiro couldn’t stop thinking about it. Couldn’t stop thinking about him.
---
One night, after a particularly grueling mission, the team had returned to their headquarters. Tanjiro was exhausted, his body covered in cuts and bruises from the fight, his usual bright demeanor dimmed by the weariness of battle. They had all gathered in the common room, cleaning their wounds, and talking quietly. Muichiro’s eyes never strayed from Tanjiro, not for a moment.
The others were speaking amongst themselves, but Muichiro was lost in his thoughts. He couldn’t focus on anything except Tanjiro, standing in the corner of the room, his back to the wall as he wiped his sword clean. **If only I could just get him to see me. Really see me.**
Muichiro’s hand tightened around the edge of his cup, his fingers aching as they dug into the ceramic. His chest was tight, his breath shallow. He needed to be closer to Tanjiro, needed to show him how much he cared. How much he **needed** him.
Without thinking, he stood up, his legs trembling with the effort to move. Tanjiro was alone in the corner, his eyes closed for a moment as he rested against the wall. This was his chance—his chance to make Tanjiro understand.
Muichiro’s footsteps were quiet as he approached Tanjiro, the distance between them closing with each step. The closer he got, the louder the thudding of his heart became, his breath quickening with anticipation. Tanjiro didn’t notice him until Muichiro was standing directly in front of him.
Tanjiro opened his eyes, blinking in surprise. "Muichiro?" he said, his voice tired but soft. "Are you feeling okay?"
Muichiro didn’t answer right away. Instead, he stared at Tanjiro, his face a mixture of longing and frustration. His heart raced as he tried to find the words, but nothing seemed right. Everything felt wrong, and yet he couldn’t stop himself.
"I—" Muichiro’s voice faltered. He wanted to reach out, to take Tanjiro’s hand, to make him understand the depth of what he was feeling. "Tanjiro, please. I can’t stop thinking about you. I don’t care about anything else. I just need you to know how much I—"
Tanjiro took a step back, his eyes widening in confusion, his hand raised in a gentle, but firm, gesture. "Muichiro, wait—" he began, but Muichiro wasn’t listening anymore.
"I love you," Muichiro blurted, his voice louder than he intended. The words felt raw on his tongue, desperate, as though they were spilling out of him without any control. "I’ve loved you for so long. I don’t care if you don’t feel the same way. I can’t keep pretending that I don’t want you. I need you. Please—"
"Muichiro!" Tanjiro interrupted, his face pale as he took a step back. His hand gripped his sword nervously, the gesture almost reflexive. "I… I don’t feel that way. I told you, I care about you, but—" His voice wavered, uncertainty and regret in his eyes.
The words hit Muichiro like a physical blow. He took a step back, his breath caught in his throat, the world around him spinning. Tanjiro’s words were gentle, but they were clear. **He doesn’t love you. He never will.**
Tanjiro’s voice softened as he saw the hurt on Muichiro’s face. "I’m sorry. I didn’t want to hurt you. I care about you, Muichiro. But I… I can’t love you like that. Not now. Not like you want me to."
Muichiro’s vision blurred, his heart shattering in his chest. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t move. The words echoed in his mind, louder and louder, until they were all he could hear. *He doesn’t love you.*
A sick, cold feeling settled in his stomach. Tanjiro’s rejection was like a knife to his soul. He had exposed himself, bared his heart, and Tanjiro had turned away. Tanjiro had placed an insurmountable wall between them, a wall that Muichiro could never climb.
Muichiro didn’t know how long he stood there, frozen in place, his hands trembling by his sides. The room felt suffocating, as though it was closing in on him. Tanjiro was still talking, still saying things in a soft, comforting tone, but Muichiro couldn’t hear him anymore. His mind was spinning with a single thought.
**He’s mine.**
Tanjiro’s words didn’t matter. He couldn’t let go.
Muichiro turned and left the room, his heart pounding in his chest. He had to escape, had to be alone, but the obsession inside of him—this consuming need for Tanjiro—had already taken root. And no matter how much Tanjiro cared about him, it was clear now: Muichiro would never be able to move on.
He couldn’t.
Tanjiro had rejected him, but it didn’t matter. Not anymore. Muichiro would make him see. Make him understand.
**Muichiro would make Tanjiro love him.**
And he would do whatever it took to make that happen.
