Forever

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The matter of you finding a date for the annual family Christmas party begins to obsess your Grandmother. She won't let the matter rest until your Grandfather and Father both take up the refrain; and once the men of the household are of her own mind, Grandmother immediately goes through the list of prestigious family connections. One such date includes the eldest son of an abalone cannery millionaire. A prospective date is suggested and your protests dismissed entirely.

"Only one date. If you like him, you can have another," Your Grandmother says, with an impatient wave of her blood-coloured nails, the scent of Schiaparelli and mothballs wafting about her.

It's unbearable. You lock yourself in your room and refuse to come out, anger and fear drumming through your body. You throw yourself onto the bed and listen as your Grandmother beats her small fists against the door.

"Do you want to be an old maid?" She screams.

"Yes!" You howl in return. Outside you hear whispering, and you know that your mother is there.

It's unbearable. You're only in High School and already your life is being squeezed into a box, all those rules and expectations laid out for you, and you're expected to play along like the good daughter that you are. No one cares that you've been acing all your classes, that you've been nursing a secret hope that you might win a scholarship and go to England and study law when you graduate.

At last you're left alone, and you hear the tiny shuffling steps of your Grandmother, supported by your Mother, fading away down the corridor. After a while, you get up, and, opening the window shutters wide, observe the slender branches of the Mexican lilac pushing up beneath the sill, wondering if it will hold your weight.

It's not easy to reach the tree without falling from the window, but at last you grasp a strong branch and you swing yourself forwards, your sneaker-clad feet scrabbling for a hold against the trunk. Almost at once, you hear a loud crack, and falls with the branch the short distance to the ground. Your knee is scraped and you feel your shoulder throb with the beginnings of a bruise, but nothing more, and scrambling up, you run off through the main gate of the family estate.

An hour later, with nowhere else to go, you find yourself in the Kamado family bakery, pouring out your sorrows to a sympathetic Tanjirou, who nods in response at your story, as your tone rises to a high, fevered crescendo, and how your face wrinkles in distress at the impossible situation that your family has forced you into.

You pause for breath, and look around the Kamado family bakery. Nezuko, a baguette in her mouth, mans the cashier and counts out change for a waiting customer. Bells of all sizes, from tiny jingle to massive cow, chimes out entrances from hooks on the back of the door. The combination of scents envelops you: vanilla and cinnamon and warm chocolates with hints of lemon and cherry. As you sip on your frothy latte, you inhale the pockets of aromas, each one a comforting embrace of all that is good in this upside-down world.

Tanjirou slides a cream éclair over to you; you moan at the sight of the chocolate-covered confection, a specialty of the bakery, and your favorite dessert. "It's on the house," He says, smiling warmly, and a twinge sadly. "I wish I could do more to help."

You seep deeper into your chair, letting his words roll over you. Tanjirou's always been a good friend of yours, helpful and eager to please, and when he smiles, oh, when he smiles, it's almost as if the sun itself is unfurling its rays and bringing light to your dreary existence. You have to battle back a blush, along with the realization that this little crush on your classmate isn't going away anytime soon.

A plan slowly begins to form in your mind. You almost feel guilty for what you're about to propose, and you promise yourself that you'll buy all your bread from The Kamado Family Bakery for as long as you live.

One date  || Tanjiro x Reader One-shotWhere stories live. Discover now