𝘡𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘴𝘶 𝘚𝘩𝘪𝘱 𝘍𝘦𝘴𝘵

[𝗨𝘇𝘂𝗶 𝗧.] 𝘏𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘦𝘧

It had been a tough battle, but eventually they won.

Tengen couldn't believe his ears as he heard the Kasugai crows returning, cheering and croaking loudly: "The demon's are dead! Muzan has been defeated!".

A look towards his side had revealed Shinjurou Rengoku, who was shocked as well. He had cried, without even noticing it. Revenge for his son, for Tengen's best friend. For a man that had died at the claws of a disgusting creature, who protected the weak and innocent. Just like many other stunning men and women. They both knew how happy he'd be, if Kyojurou was still alive.

In his stead, many others returned. Smaller troops with unknown faces, among more important figures. Everyone was beaten up pretty hard, but smiling nonetheless. They were relieved; nights would be serene again, with a sky to be admired by anyone.

And yet, many were crying nonetheless. Many lives were lost. Many loved ones. So many chances that hadn't been taken yet, and never would.

Just like his own.

Shaking fingers trailed over bloody skin. It was cracked in some places, and bruised in others. Nonetheless, it felt familiar and smooth to the touch. The flesh was lacking its usual heat; cooling down by the minute.

Upon arrival, Zenitsu had still been warm.

It felt so unnerving, to see his usually peachy skin so pale. So lifeless. Especially his face. Around Tengen, he always blushed cutely. Not even a day ago, he had seen it. The red hue creeping over plump cheeks in a shy manner. Their eyes had locked shortly before, and they both understood the meaning in them. Tengen had brushed his blond hair out of his face, just like he was doing now.

It didn't feel like it used to, lacking Zenitsu's amusingly sweet reactions.

Taking in a deep breath, he kept wiping the boy's stiff face with a damp rag. It was deeply soaked with blood, and Tengen dipped it into the bowl next to him. The water was lukewarm, a temperature Zenitsu preferred, and tinted in a light red, turning darker every time it was touched by the soiled cloth. Resuming to wipe the blond's face, the man couldn't stop himself but to think about the irony of that situation.

Zenitsu always cried.
Yet, the one time that Tengen did so, his features remained eerily calm. Serene, even.

As a salty tear landed on dried blood, he wiped gently over it. Tengen had promised to tell him something important as soon as he came back. Zenitsu had promised him the same. They had seen it in each other's eyes already, that day. They had already known what would've been said.

"I love you, Zenitsu.".

The confession fell on deaf ears.

Tengen bit his lip, tasting the blood that'd been drawn from it.
He didn't want the blond to go, but Zenitsu had insisted. He had to avenge his Gramps and the friends they had lost. He wanted to avenge his best friend as well, knowing that Tengen wasn't able to do so himself. After hearing that, he had ruffled the blond's head, fully believing he'd be strong enough to survive. The determination in those gorgeous, honeyed eyes had convinced him.

And he would've lived, if it hadn't been two Upper Moons against him - alone, just like he was used to until Tanjirou and him came around.

Not even two hours ago, Tomioka had told him about it; Zenitsu had managed to defeat Upper Moon Six in a tough battle. Shortly after, another demon had gone in for the kill. The Kasugai Sparrow had witnessed it all, apathetically reporting to the remaining demon slayers.
At least they knew it had been a fast death; Zenitsu probably couldn't even scream, not even cry, as his chest had been pierced, and his heart crushed in a matter of seconds.

A heart that would've belonged to Tengen, if only things had turned out differently.

A shaky breath escaped him, as he slowly leaned over the serene boy. The hand holding the rag was planted next to his blond hair, laid out like a halo adorning an angel's head, supporting him not to fall.
On a different day, Zenitsu had circled his arms around his neck. He had pulled him close, so that their lips touched. They had been grinning during the kiss - it wasn't practical, but so much better in a different way. It had been rainy that day, and the humidity in the air had made them lose their clothes fast.

Now, instead of honey, he tasted like salt and iron. There was no resistance against Tengen's lips, no cute giggles or excited smiles.
Only coldness, and the feeling of grief.

The sun shone so brightly that his tears fell like stars from the sky.

A sky, he would never admire the same again.