Inosuke Hashibira | Call My Name
It wasn’t a secret that Inosuke’s upbringing in the mountains had left him ill-equipped for social interaction. You were the sixth, and last, to pass the final selection for the Demon Slayer Corps, stumbling upon them during a mission and, thereafter, tagging along with their patrols.
You appreciated their company, the steady presence they provided, though Zenitsu’s lovestruck gazes could be grating. But the one you found yourself drawn to was the short-tempered boar, Inosuke Hashibira. Discovering his inability to read or write, you’d taken it upon yourself to teach him whenever the opportunity arose. Though he preferred fighting, he occasionally listened.
“It’s Tanjirou, not Kanjiro,” you patiently explained, sitting with him in a room at the Wisteria House.
“Kanjiro!” he declared proudly.
“Close, but not quite. You’re getting there,” you smiled warmly, noticing the bubbles forming around him—a visual manifestation of the unfamiliar emotions stirring within him. It wasn’t just around Zenitsu or Tanjirou, but around you, particularly around *you*.
“What’s wrong?” you tilted your head, confused by his odd behavior. He didn’t answer, simply stared, the boar mask concealing little of the intensity of his gaze. It was unsettling to feel the weight of his attention.
“How about a reward system? My teacher used to give me treats when I mastered a new technique. Maybe we could do something similar?”
Inosuke’s posture shifted, a subtle perk of attention. You couldn’t discern his expression behind the mask, but you sensed a genuine interest.
“What kind of reward?” his gruff voice rumbled as he swayed slightly, legs crossed.
“Hmm… how about I do anything you want?” The words slipped out before you could fully consider them. Knowing Inosuke, he’d likely request a sparring match. He seemed particularly intrigued by the idea, launching himself up and sprinting outside, shouting.
Days passed, and Inosuke failed to correctly pronounce a single name. Frustration mounted. He slammed his head against trees while attempting to memorize yours and the others’.
“Inosuke, why don’t we try again?” you called from outside the house, where you’d been seated. He bounded toward you, a rush of energy mirroring a dog responding to its name.
“TODAY! I WILL SUCCEED TODAY!” he announced, hands on his waist. You smiled, amused by his confidence.
“Then let’s start.”
“Junitsu!” he blurted out, pointing towards Zenitsu chasing after Nezuko.
“Wrong.”
“Kanjirou!” He pointed to Tanjirou, also pursuing Zenitsu and Nezuko.
“Close… but wrong.”
He pointed at you, "(Y/N)!"
“Wrong, but you’re improving. Let’s try again tomorrow, okay?” You rose to join the others.
“*(Y/N)*!” Inosuke called, and you turned, surprised that he remembered your name.
“Ah… wo-wow. You got it. You really are smart, Inosuke.” You praised him, feeling his pride swell. Bubbles erupted around him, and he placed a hand on his waist.
“So… do you want to fight?” you asked, gripping your sword.
“No!” He refused loudly, a surprising response. He wanted something *other* than fighting.
“Then what do you want?”
He didn’t answer, but moved closer, removing his boar mask and leaning down to capture your lips. It happened so quickly you didn’t have time to react, and before you could even comprehend what was happening, he pulled back, replacing the mask, his face flushed crimson.
You felt the ghost of his touch, the unexpected softness of his lips. A warmth spread through you.
“What was that for?” you asked, voice barely a whisper.
“My reward,” he said, his voice muffled by the mask. Bubbles swirled around him, and he stared down at you with an intensity that mirrored your own.
“*(Y/N)!*” He called your name again, and again, removing his mask to press a quick kiss to your lips three times. You were dumbfounded, utterly reeling.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“You said you’d give me a reward every time I said your name correctly.” He stated confidently, as if this was perfectly reasonable.
You argued, “That’s true, but you can’t keep calling my name, you idiot!” He was already running, a triumphant grin hidden behind the mask. You could feel his satisfaction, as if he’d just won a battle. You stared after him, speechless.
“I guess it won’t be bad after all,” you muttered, touching your lips. Starting that day, Inosuke memorized your name, stealing kisses whenever he pleased.