Tanjiro x Reader
They called me reckless, emotionless, cold-blooded, cruel. Each label felt like a brand seared into my skin, and each one, tragically, was true. I built walls around myself, brick by agonizing brick. I avoided closeness, fearing attachment – not for their sake, but for my own. The battlefield was a stark reminder of mortality, and I refused to leave myself vulnerable to loss. Better to sever ties before they could be broken. Better to fight only for survival, a solitary pursuit devoid of sentiment. Other demon slayers spoke of protecting family, of honoring fallen comrades. I fought for a quiet life, for a peace I knew would never truly be mine. And I fought for nothing and no one else. Perhaps that was why everyone kept their distance. Everyone, save one demon slayer…
A warmth bloomed in my chest whenever he was near, a flush creeping up my neck and staining my cheeks crimson. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the steady rhythm of my life. It was a nervous energy, a hesitant excitement. When alone, his face lingered in my mind, blossoming into dreams that felt dangerously real. I recognized the shift within me, the insidious bloom of attachment. But I refused to yield. We were already entangled, and the threads were tightening. Before they could bind us, I needed to sever them. He already had Nezuko to care for, a burden I couldn't allow myself to become. I was a distraction, a liability. Our connection was a detriment to his purpose, and mine. Today, I would say goodbye.
“Tanjiro,” I called out, my voice barely a whisper. He turned, his smile a familiar warmth that threatened to melt my resolve. I forced myself to look away. “I just finished my training,” he replied, wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. “I—” The word caught in my throat, a clumsy obstruction. I cursed my stutter and cleared my throat, trying again. “(Y/N)? Are you alright? Are you feeling unwell? We should head inside, it’s getting cold—” He began to worry. I cut him off. “No.” His surprise was evident. He stepped closer, concern etched onto his features. “Then talk to me. What’s wrong?” He offered a sad smile, waiting for me to speak. After a few moments, I forced the words through my clenched jaw. “This is goodbye. Don’t follow me.” I turned to leave, but his hand stopped me, gently gripping my wrist. “No! Don’t push people away!” His voice echoed with desperation. “Don’t order me around,” I retorted, my voice flat, devoid of emotion. I wrenched my hand free and hurried away, my pace quickening with each step.
“You don’t want to do this,” he continued, his voice following me. I ignored him, focusing on putting distance between us. “(Y/N), it’s time you opened yourself up to those around you. Aren’t demon slayers supposed to bring happiness and freedom to people? Then stop acting like a monster!” I stopped dead in my tracks, my eyes wide. “Monster?” I murmured under my breath. “You’ve never cared for anyone but yourself—or at least, you’ve tried not to. But I know that’s not true. You’re not a monster, you’re not cold-hearted. Just trust me, let me help you.” I furrowed my brows, turning to face him. “You know nothing about me. I fight only for my own survival. I don’t care about others. I don’t consider you a friend.” I stated calmly, my voice a carefully constructed shield. “But you *do* want to save people. I know you do—” I cut him off again. “Why would I save trash like them?” The words were low and laced with contempt. I wanted him to understand, to see the steel beneath my indifference. I wasn’t feigning, I was revealing the truth. “You don’t truly mean that…” he asked, his voice trembling. I met his gaze, my eyes devoid of warmth. I smirked, a cruel curve of my lips. He broke our eye contact, clenching his fists. “Then fight for me. And only me.” He paused, his voice laced with desperation. “No…Not for me, but for us. For both of us.” I was taken aback, his words a jarring dissonance. Was he even listening to me?
“Tanjiro.” My voice was a strangled whisper. “I do care about you.” His eyes widened, mirroring my own shock. *What have I said?* I thought, a wave of panic washing over me. My tongue, traitorous and uncontrolled. I quickly covered my mouth, desperate to silence the admission. He reached for my hands, pulling them away from my lips. He beamed, tears welling in his eyes. Before I could form another word, he pressed his lips to mine. His hands cupped my cheeks, wiping away the tears that threatened to spill. Without thinking, I kissed him back, deepening the connection. My hands moved on their own, tangling in his hair. Our lips moved in sync, a desperate rhythm that threatened to consume us. The need for air tore us apart. “How…bold of you,” I breathed, my voice barely audible. His face flushed crimson, a vibrant bloom that mirrored the heat rising in my chest. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow!”
This was supposed to be a goodbye. Right…?