disclaimer: kny belongs to koyoharu gotouge
notes: this was written for gentan week 2019 with prompt "first kiss". title is taken from utada hikaru's don't think twice. this fic can also be found on ao3 under the name nascence.

kiss me once, kiss me twice

The first time Tanjirou saw a kiss between lovers, it was her mother saying goodbye to his father.

Tanjirou was there beside him when his father's lungs no longer sought for oxygen. He was reading him stories from a fairytale book given by this young customer who moved back to the city for an arranged marriage. He was too busy focusing on the interwoven words in his hand. If there is a word he did not recognize, he showed it to his father and he would explain the meaning. They conversed back-to-back until at some point his father's voice was unheard of. By the time Tanjirou put down his book, his father's eyes were shut. His chest no longer heaved for life. Serenity etched on his smile.

He passed away so, so quietly to the point Tanjirou imagined his father offered himself to be taken away by the reaper, who accepted and carried his soul and put him in new, healthier vessel, for they pitied his sunken cheeks and his sunken ribs.

He alerted his mother about Tanjurou's death and watched his mother walked to their bedroom so slowly. Kie cupped Tanjurou's cheeks, caressed them, and leaned down to press her lips on his. She lingered a bit, absorbing the sight of her husband and amidst the cries of harsh wind, Tanjirou could hear his mother whispered to his skin, "In the next life, let's meet again and have a family filled with love and happiness."

Tanjirou finally spilled his tears and prayed that the love between his parents stand firm even beyond a thousand deaths. Wished that his siblings would grew up healthy so they could find a person they would love and be loved back endlessly with everything they had.

He did not pray for himself because all his love would be spent only to his family—he'd devote every second to ensure the happiness he dreamed of day-to-day would come true.

He held her mother's hand tightly, sealing his silent promise.

But there was a smell of blood.

Tanjirou did not allow himself to indulge in the idea of falling in love.

Nezuko was his first priority. He'd turn her back to be a human again. Teach her the names of those who helped them. Go back to their house and replaced the bloodied floor and walls. Save some money so he could travel with Nezuko and eat signature dishes of every available region in Japan, regaining her sense of taste. Braid her hair everyday just like how Mitsuru taught him. Listen to her rambling about hopping animals and unknown plants. Meet Zenitsu at his master's house or wait for Inosuke to drop by and eat dinner with them.

His head brimmed with imagined futures.

Each day he mentally mapped out possible routes he could trek with Nezuko, wondering which one would play out. He wanted to make up for her lost days trapped in a demon's soul so, so badly. Each scars he sustained during their journey was decisive proof of that.

And yet—

And yet he dreamed of Genya's smile. Holding him close and kissing him senseless until the sunset came by. He dreamed of him too often and he hated himself for not keeping his emotions at bay, especially when there were so many bigger problems he need to solve.

Tanjirou did not understand how it happened or how it even started. He just longed to hear his voice, to see his smile, to recognize his scent, to protect him. That yearning—it just blossomed out of nowhere.

And he was scared. Scared of losing his purpose. Afraid that if he got distracted, he would lose Nezuko altogether. So, every time he met Genya, he smiled and shoved the quixotic longing undertow long enough until he couldn't breathe.

The crow announced Genya and Muichirou's deaths.

He wanted to stop his steps and keen, but he couldn't. Not when Muzan still existed. Not when there were so many slayers facing their death.

Later.

He would mourn later, after Nezuko could abandon her muzzle, after his blade ended the chain of grief.

All he could at the moment was running and fulfilling his duty.

Everything ends.

The demon slayers gathered around in Ubuyashiki's destroyed lawn, basking in the sunlight a good sign skipping their deaths for another day.

Tanjirou glanced at Sanemi in the corner, looking impossibly small while cradling a set of uniform. Genya, Tanjirou thought, recognizing the purple vest.

He let Nezuko wander around the slayers, entrusting her to Inosuke and Zenitsu who had been tailing her steps as she bowed to each person, thanking them for surviving the night. He made himself scarce away to approach Shinazugawa.

"Shinazugawa-san, can I borrow your brother's uniform?"

"Why?"

"I just—I'd reckon I could say farewell to him."

There must have been enough desperation in his voice for Shinazugawa Sanemi lending him his little brother's clothes with ease. Tanjirou mouthed thank you before he settled down beside him, brushing the fabric slowly, softly. He could feel the older brother eyes sparked with curiosity but he paid him no attention.

He engulfed himself with the uniform, picturing the void inside filled out with Genya's body—collar-to-collar, sleeves-to-sleeves, heart-to-heart. Kokushibou's blood tainted Genya's ashen scent and it smelled awful, but he raked it deeper into his lungs, savoring the scent before it is overwashed by other pungent smells and time. He then brings up the right sleeve and kissed it, wondered if Genya's face would blossom into spring if he courted him like this—plant a kiss his knuckles on impulse in plain sight of the demon slayers, of his brother.

Closing his eyes, he prayed Genya would arrive at heaven safely.

"You love him?" Sanemi asked suddenly.

"I do," Tanjirou exhales—and finally, finally, choose to let himself fall even when there was no one to catch him. Not anymore. "I do love him."

He scowled. "And did he know about your feelings?"

Tanjiro shook his head. "How could he when I did not even want to acknowledge my feelings for him? I couldn't yield to my selfish desires when Nezuko was still a demon."

"I guess beneath it all, we big brothers share the same sentiment, huh." The pillar chuckled. "I left him because I wanted him to live a normal life, y'know. Get married and have some kids and all that. I'd slay all the demons I encountered for the sake of his future. But somehow, somehow, I outlived him. I outlived them all." Sanemi tilted his head down, hiding his face away. But Tanjirou's nose knew how much sorrow layering over the wind pillar.

"On his deathbed, what was his last words?"

Sanemi gripped his sword handle forlornly. "Said he was a burden and he wanted to protect me. Wished I would keep myself alive. Wished I would be happy."

Tanjirou handed him his little brother's uniform back to his scarred hands. "Then I hope you would honor his wishes, even if it takes a long time to do so."

Sanemi replied in silence but nodded anyway.

Tanjirou then bowed to him and shackled his grief down back to the pits of his heart. He joined the butterfly estate girls tending the injured and helped Murata burying the corpses. His knees grew weak when he saw Muichirou's body parts and he couldn't help but wish Shinobu and Genya's bodies did not dissipate into thin air so their deaths could be properly honored—so he could kiss Genya for the first and last time, even if he looked grotesque, even if he was lifeless.

He spent his first demonless night dreaming of Genya once again. This time he chased after him and kissed him with all the reverence he ever had.

I'll find you, he vowed upon Genya's scar, disappearing piece by piece. I promise I'll find you.

Years later, Tanjirou woke up with traces of memories he never lived through. With regrets overflowing from his eyes. With love yet unsolved.

He bolts out to find his roommate plating toasts on their small table like usual. He looked comfortable in muscle tee and shorts. His long hair tied into a small, messy bun. No scars to be traced like the figure in his hazy memories. Faint sounds of wind chimes and morning news. The picture of mundane happiness he'd been dreaming of.

Genya caught him staring and immediately tensed up when he noticed the tears on Tanjirou's face.

"Hey, hey, hey, hey," Genya repeated over and over again, leading Tanjirou to seat on the sofa. He kneeled in front of him, soothing his right knuckle with his thumb. "What's wrong? You got nightmares?"

"No, not really. It's just—" God, he felt incredibly overwhelmed but Genya was there with him, pressing shapes to his palm, patiently waiting for him to speak up. His blood rushing in his ears when he asked, "Can I kiss you?"

Genya blinked in disbelief. "What?"

"I just—I love you," Tanjirou blurted out, remembering the loud voice of a talking crow announcing Genya's death in his sleep. If it really had happened or not, he did not know, but he was scared nonetheless. He didn't want to lose him, to slip away from his life, and his heart bursted. "God, I love yo—"

Genya closed the gap between them, kissing him with a fervor like waves breaking down the dam. Tanjirou instinctively threading his fingers to Genya's locks, keeping him close.

"I love you too," said Genya by the time they were apart to breathe. He flushed all the way down to his ears and neck, blooming red roses. "Y'know, I've wanted to kiss you for a long time."

Tanjirou felt hazy, confounded. "Really? Since when?"

He roamed Tanjirou's face with his large hands, mapping the curved line of his cheeks, drying out the rivers under his eyes, tearing down Tanjirou's defense with a single glance.

"Since a lifetime ago," he murmured, voice laced with love, and he sealed eternity on Tanjirou's smile.