"This dance is for you," Tanjirou dreamed. "My last gift for you…"
He saw a beautiful man who towered over him with long, radiant hair and a dark pronounced scar, but despite his height, the man leaned down, close enough for their foreheads to touch. His bangs softly brushed against his skin, and Tanjirou flushed, turning red because he felt wrong to be in a spot of misplaced intimacy.
However, he somehow blurted out, "I will cherish this dance and everything you have given me. I will dance until I cannot stop, until my last breath takes me away..."
More words were spoken, but Tanjirou woke up before he could recall. For once, the tears he shed did not belong to him.
XXX
"It's raining," Tanjirou noted as he watched the raindrops coat the ground for the third time this week. "He's hurting."
A sharp pang of worry hit him.
"Then train harder so that you can reunite faster," Murata replied and buried his worries as well, relaxing into a stance to strike Tanjirou. Distractions would only serve to detriment his progress. "Shift your hips forward," he instructed him, once again feeling like an inadequate teacher. Urokodaki would have been the better cultivator.
Both Zenitsu and Murata were not cut out as swordsman trainers, but at least they instilled the basics and conditioned his body for more rigorous training. They worked Tanjirou to the bone while also honing their swordsman skills because eventually they may face the corruption that was running rampant in the realm of the gods. After all, the human was not the only one in danger.
"I'm jealous," Zenitsu waddled on the ground from exhaustion, his calves burning with intensity. "Your stamina is really good, Tanjirou," he whined.
"Really?" Tanjirou paused mid-stroke, which was a fatal mistake when Murata swung at his ribs with his staff.
The air left his lungs, and he screamed as he curled into a ball, groaning from the throbbing pain. A nasty bruise will surely follow.
"Pay attention!" Murata scolded. "Do 500 more reps. And Zenitsu-san!" He turned to him with a pointed look. "Stop kissing the ground and get back to work!"
Obviously, his initial awe to meet the prince of the thunder god wore off. Zenitsu, as a response, rolled over and complained about him being a big bully, but despite his resistance, he went right back to work when Nezuko appeared, most likely with the intention to impress her. However, his remarks never left Tanjirou's mind as he started another set of reps.
Later, when sunset came and marked the end of the day, Murata expanded Zenitsu's observation.
"You do not have exceptional talent," he cut right to the chase, "But your stamina compensates your lack of it."
A regular human would have given up from the laborious training and nonstop workload, but Tanjirou plowed onward, completing Murata's seemingly impossible tasks like an obedient dog.
"It's quite scary. You have a lot of energy reserved in that small human body," he said. "It's abnormal."
Tanjirou's first day of training was packed with hurdles, including the task to descend a mountain riddled with dangerous traps and hidden projectiles waiting to knock him out. Even so, he improved at an exponential rate.
"I think it's thanks to that strange dance you've been doing."
Alongside his training regimen, Tanjirou would faithfully perform the dance of the sun god each night in preparation of the coming new year. Since he was the bride of the water god, he felt it was inappropriate or disrespectful to practice the dance within the water god's domain, so he was a bit rusty when he attempted the dance. His family's long-held tradition was enriched with history and pride, and his father told him that his ancestors used this dance to ward off evil spirits and cleanse tainted souls. The villagers never understood the Kamado family's adamant decision to perform such a strenuous dance all night, but whenever they were given the chance, the people would watch in reverence from afar. Its remarkable beauty was well-known.
"The dance of the sun god?" asked Tanjirou. He jutted out his lips and considered its effect. "I guess that makes sense since it tests your endurance."
"No," Murata countered as he weaved his fingers together with a constipated expression. "It's more than that."
Tanjirou blinked at the surety in his voice, the suddenness of his response. "How so?"
Murata lifted his head and stared into Tanjirou's eyes, the eyes of a human whose family was blessed by one of the strongest gods.
"There are no records of a dance dedicated to Yoriichi-sama," he said.
Dancing was a common form of expression to deliver one's gratitude to the gods, which were typically found within festivals and weddings, but the dance of the sun god, a dance that was passed down from generation to generation, went beyond gratitude. When Murata experienced the dance firsthand, he couldn't help but gawk at the level of power Tanjirou exerted as he spun vertically to demonstrate the second movement.
"Normal humans cannot perform such a difficult dance. The backlash after performing multiple consecutive rotations would have made you collapsed," he explained.
There was truth in his reasoning. When Tanjirou first started, his knees buckled together, and he walked like a newborn fawn for a few days.
"This dance fortified your bones and increased your healing capabilities," he added. "You would have died when that arrow struck you, but your body became a strong vessel to withstand such a life-threatening wound."
Though unspoken, Tanjirou also understood that his father would have passed away by now. The boy was reminded to not take things for granted. The sun god benevolently gifted his family a prized possession, a gift worthy for mighty warriors instead of a family of coal burners.
Although impatient, Tanjirou resisted the urge to storm through the realm of the gods and focused on his steady progress towards the mastery of the sword. The Nichirin blade, he learned, was considered one of the strongest weapons to defend oneself, so if he proved to Giyuu he could wield the blade, then maybe the water god can trust him to protect himself. The plan was not foolproof, but there was enough incentive to motivate Tanjirou to wake up before the crack of dawn and begin his rounds.
"By the way," Tanjirou asked Zenitsu one day while eating lunch. "How am I going to return to the realm of the gods? The gates are closed."
Against Murata's wishes, Tanjirou stubbornly hiked back to the entrance of the water god's shrine during his first week back home. To his dismay, the priestess he met was missing and the rest of the property was closed. His connection to the realm of the gods was cut. Tanjirou's second option was to purposefully drown himself in the lake, but his recklessness gave both Murata and Nezuko a heart attack when they saw him dive in and never resurface. The two tag-teamed and pulled him out of the water wearing the scariest faces he had ever seen. Thus, he was forbidden to even glance at the lake unless he begged for death.
With the revelation that Zenitsu was a demigod and part of Tengen's harem, Tanjirou naturally assumed the god of festivities was the key to going back, but his friend shot that idea down immediately. When he asked why, the blond pursed his lips.
"Tanjirou," Zenitsu eyed him warily and approached the subject daintily. "You're probably too dense to notice, but Giyuu-sama's relationships with the other gods are not the best."
Murata winced.
Zenitsu's uneasiness grew when the boy with the burgundy hair blinked with a modest, demure smile, obviously oblivious to his sugar-coated words. He sighed. There was no roundabout way to say the truth.
"Tanjirou, you know that," he grimaced, "That nobody likes the water god, right?"
"Eh?!" Tanjirou exclaimed. His chopsticks and barley were forgotten as he scooted closer. "But why? Giyuu-san is nice!"
From personal experience, Zenitsu was absolutely intimidated by his presence, especially his unnerving stare since they reminded him of a pair of dead fish eyes. His fear was further cemented when a village incurred his wrath after murdering a bride and was duly punished. The rain buried the village to the ground until the floods reached the rooftops and pounded the humans with never-ending hail. He remembered how he shivered from afar as he watched the water god's reptilian form return to the heavens and left the village in shambles. However, that was justice in the perspective of a god who grieved for centuries.
"Giyuu-sama always rejected Tengen-sama's invitations to his festivals," Zenitsu said. "He was also this close," he demonstrated by almost pinching his fingers together, "To instigating a war during the Night festival."
Protective of his husband's honor, Tanjirou crossed his arms in a huff. "It was out of self-defense. Tengen-sama was going to kidnap me as his bride."
Zenitsu's eye twitched out of irritation. Love is blind.
"Either way, the water god has more enemies than friends," he said, "Which is why I think our best bet is the goddess of love."
Knowing Mitsuri, she would be thrilled to be involved in their affairs, and reuniting the lovers was right up her alley. Tanjirou perked up when he heard her name and was excited that he was going to meet the goddess again after her assistance at the Night festival. He was thankful for her interference but never got the opportunity to visit her domain. His memory was fuzzy because of the pheromones that inhibited his cognitive functioning, but he knew she was a valuable ally. When he voiced his enthusiasm, Zenitsu threw caution to the wind.
"I know she's the goddess of love, but you must be careful," he warned. "For she is a divine being."
The goddess of love was often vied for her abilities, and her popularity continued to grow because humans were fickle creatures with fickle hearts. Many prayed at her shrines, and some of her most devout worshipers hoped for the goddess to match them with their perfect half. However, their wishes were not granted for free, and oftentimes, their feelings were challenged for the sake of entertainment. Zenitsu was aware of this because she tempted many gods to do her bidding through this method.
"Be careful, Tanjirou," he repeated. "For she is known to love her games."
His concerns became reality when they saw her waiting at the entrance of her shrine, already expecting their arrival with a platter of pastries and tea.
"I have been waiting for you," she said with a twinkle in her eye and a cheery smile while her servants ushered them inside.
With a quick sniff, Tanjirou smelled baked bread and cinnamon, and his stomach grumbled in protest to taste the source of that enticing scent. His mouth salivated at the thought of biting into the golden brown waffles she presented to the group. He had just completed his training and sparred against Murata and Zenitsu without an infliction to his ribs, so the waffles would have been an excellent reward. Though everybody tried to convince him to rest another day, he was too restless to wait. Already agitated, he yearned to see Giyuu again, to nuzzle into his chest like a purring kitten and sleep there every night to his heart's content. He wanted to hear the familiar tremor of his voice, his sweet groans whenever Tanjirou poked him awake or smothered him with hugs.
"I can take you back to the realm of the gods," she told Tanjirou, "But it comes with a price."
She took a sip of her exquisite tea and gauged his reaction beneath her eyelashes. Tanjirou sensed Zenitsu stiffen, but Tanjirou was undeterred by her bold words. He nodded, giving her the permission to continue.
"It will be a test," she started to explain with a wry smile because the fun had just begun. "First, I will put a glamour on you, so to everybody else besides me, you will be unrecognizable."
Therefore, Tanjirou will be disguised under a different skin, a different name, but not a different heart.
"Next, you are forbidden to speak throughout the duration of the test, including any instances that will give Giyuu and anybody else a hint of your identity."
This was a big order to ask of Tanjirou because of his sprightly and talkative nature. He was often found chatting with the first person he saw, but he was no fool and accepted her demands with a bitten tongue and a resolute expression.
"You will follow my lead once I introduce you to Giyuu," she finished. "After hearing my conditions, are you willing to go back?"
As expected, if he failed, then he would be kicked out and banned from returning to the realm of the gods, but if he succeeded, then he would stay. His blood ran hot, and his breathing quickened by a tick. He can imagine Murata and Zenitsu pleading him to not agree to her demands, that there were alternatives to return to the realm of the gods, but those paths were more arduous and time-consuming.
Tanjirou doesn't want to wait anymore. He doesn't want his indecisiveness to drag him behind. His vacillation cost him time, time he could have spent by Giyuu's side.
"You don't have to do this," Mitsuri gave him the chance to opt out. "Whatever you choose, I support you."
Perhaps to another person, her innocent-sounding tone seemed misleading, as if a conniving soul inhabited her body and gained pleasure from putting individuals at crossroads. Perhaps that was the case, and she wished for a diversion from her boring life even though she was one of the kindest gods he had ever met.
"Thank you," he said, for her actions back at the Night festival and the favor she was doing.
In the end, Tanjirou still interpreted her actions as a sincere form of help.
"I accept your conditions," he replied, ignoring Zenitsu's horror. "My fate is in your hands."
Mitsuri giggled. Her eyes crinkled with amusement. "No, it is not," she said and clasped his hands. "Your fate has been in yours all along."
Since Zenitsu was not allowed to enter the realm of the gods, Tanjirou hugged him tight before his departure. In turn, Zenitsu wished him the best of luck, sobbing into his shoulder and encouraged him to win.
"Or I won't forgive you for disrupting my alone time with Nezuko-chan," he sniffled, which made Tanjirou laugh at his silly threat.
On the other hand, Murata was at a standstill because he was unable to participate and could ruin the integrity of the test. Therefore, Mitsuri extended an invitation for him to temporarily stay at her realm until Tanjirou was finished.
"Guess I can't be there to cockblock you guys," he joked lightheartedly.
"You jerk," Tanjirou gasped. "That was on purpose?"
"No," Murata smirked. "Honestly, that was bad timing on my part."
Their farewells were not tearful because everybody, including Nezuko and his family, believed that the bride of the water god will reunite with his husband. However, the obstacles were already set in place, and Tanjirou was going to be seen as a new stranger. This was going to be harder than he thought, Tanjirou thought as he approached Giyuu again after many months because the Giyuu he met for the first time was different from the Giyuu he met right now.