title: goldfish

genre: romance, humor

pairing: Nezuko/Zenitsu

notes: so, this is a spin-off of another line in my "Strikes Twice" fanfic, where Zenitsu remembers when Nezuko and him went to a festival. So, this takes place maybe a week or two before "Strikes Twice."

As in that fic, these characters are aged up to their twenties, Nezuko is a demon but with time she gained her human memories and the ability to talk.

Songs: Monica Lewinsky by SANT JHN & Walk Me Home by P!nk

It had been a quick affair, arriving at the festival, dividing up the travel money, and making plans to meet back up at the campsite just a hop skip from the town.

Tanjiro and Kanao had the anxiousness of a couple wanting time alone. A fact that Zenitsu had pointed out. He was still sour that Tanjiro had been able to make a confession and Kanao had accepted his stuttered feelings, and he knew it carried in his tone as he waved the two of them off, wishing them well with an off-color comment about not making Nezuko an aunt so soon.

Kanao had dragged a red-eared Tanjiro off, her stony glare promising retribution, but Zenitsu stuck his tongue out after her. He could handle her swapping his painkillers for candy. He had gotten better at spotting the difference since the last incident.

Nezuko giggled at their expense. "I do like the name Natsu. Do you think they'll take suggestions?"

Zenitsu had turned to answer her and found that Nezuko was alone.

They were alone.

Somewhere in the conversation, Inosuke had slipped away, citing that he heard people talking about a strong-man competition and honor compelled him to fight.

Nezuko shrugged, as if helpless. "Do you want to walk around a bit? I saw some food stalls back there."

Which led to now, at a summer festival in some random city, the smells of fried food and spun sugar hanging in the air. The two of them walked the streets together, stopping occasionally to ooh and ahh as they picked along the crowds for snacks and games.

The unadulterated joy he had felt when he found them alone began to fizzle as they walked, however. He knew that, by any other account, they must look like a couple. The old ladies at the food stalls asked him if his "girlfriend" was hungry and Zenitsu gave half-hearted explanations in return. No, no she wasn't hungry. No, no, she's not my girlfriend.

A heaviness settled on the evening after that, not the same as the sourness he had felt at Tanjiro and Kanao getting together. He had been happy for them, but lonely.

He caught their reflection in a darkened shop window and saw them together, shoulder and shoulder. Their clothes were darned and clean, practically new. Nezuko even had her hair up, the long coils twisted onto the nape of her neck with a pin that shimmered like gold against her dark hair. She had put it up for the occasion.

They looked like a young couple that set out to have a night at a festival.

And yet, they weren't. They were demon slayers sent to investigate some new leads, heading home to give Oyakata-sama their report and then return to their training. The festival was just a change of pace, a spur of the moment decision wrought from years of hard work and little breaks. A chance to just be.

It felt nice just to walk around, enjoy the time they had, but without the distraction of work, Zenitsu's mind tended to wander.

The years passed, the time spent together, the hundreds of words passed between them and Nezuko's proximity. He loved her, of course. He loved her for years, that wasn't a secret. He was sure even Oyakata-sama and his Gramps in afterlife knew his feelings.

Nezuko, however, had never given any indication that she felt the same way. She endured his flirting and his half-joking proposals, but she had never looked him in the eye and told him to knock it off.

It still wasn't a yes, though.

He really wanted that yes—

"Zenitsu!" Nezuko grabbed his arm and Zenitsu nearly jumped out of his skin, biting back a yelp as he was pulled from his thoughts. His eyes zigzagged through the crowd, his fight-or-flight triggered, but found nothing. Nezuko patted his arm, a distracted, comforting gesture. "Hey, hey Zentisu, are those goldfish?"

He glanced up, zeroing in on where Nezuko was pointing. There was a shop corner that had been made up for a goldfish stand. "Yeah, yeah, they are." He looked to her and then the thoughts connected in his brain. "Do you want me to win one for you?"

"Do you want to try?"

A flicker of humiliation crackled in his chest, quickly darkened out by her smile. Her smile was a challenge, teasing, coy.

"I'll have you know," he sputtered, crossing him arms over his chest, "I am great at catching goldfish."

"Oh, really?" Her eyebrow quirked. Her hand withdrew and crossed over his chest, mirroring his pose.

He had been infatuated with Nezuko since they were kids, when she was mute from her demonic transition.

Now that they were older, he could say with confidence that he loved her more when she would talk back to him. She had a light humor and an easy nature, but she was quick-witted and snarky at the best of times, and he was never quite mad when she picked on him a little.

It made him smile as they headed over.

He played three rounds of the goldfish game with Nezuko cheering him on, his fingers diving in the tepid water with the poi disintegrating as the water soaked through the rice paper. Finally, he managed to get a big one, orangey-gold with bulbous eyes that made it look a little flabbergasted at Zenitsu's win.

The booth keeper took his fish and bagged it before handing it off to Nezuko, a little flushed and smiling, "For the lady!"

Nezuko cupped the bagged fish in her hands, peering through the plastic at her prize. "Thank you." Zenitsu nodded, narrow-eyed at the booth keeper before leading Nezuko into the stream of the crowd.

"So," he drawled, patting his hand against his leg to dry it. "What are you gonna name it?"

"I dunno."

Zenitsu frowned. "Do you like him?"

"I do, but I just realized," she mumbled, her cupped hands pulling the fish closer to her chest, avoiding bumping shoulders least she drops him. "We've got a couple more days on the road. I don't think he'll survive that long in the bag."

"Oh, you're right."

Nezuko hummed in agreement.

"You know," he said, cautiously. "Goldfish can live in any fresh water. We can probably take him to that pond by camp if you want."

Nezuko looked up at him from the fish and nodded. "Would you help put him back in the water?"

"Of course." Zenitsu said, turning against the stream of people to lead them back where they came from. "Then the fish can make all sorts of fish friends."

Nezuko laughed and followed beside him, waving as they passed the food booth ladies again. Zenitsu pointedly ignored their good luck signs.

The pond looked like a dark mirror, glittering with distant lights and ripples from the fish. Zenitsu knew without testing it that the water would be cold as a breeze blew over the surface, carrying a chill that rolled down his spine. Nezuko offered him the bagged fish. "Hold him for me?"

"I can take it out."

Nezuko shook her head. "You're gonna get sick. I can't. Now, hold him."

He accepted the bag and snorted. "How are you so sure it's a boy?"

"I named him Natsu."

"That's a girl's name."

"And a boy's name." Nezuko pouted and rolled her eyes. "Them, then. I don't speak fish, I can't ask."

He watched as she tied up the sleeves of her kimono with an industrial grace, expose the flawless skin of her forearms. Then, he turned to look away when she tied up her skirt to her knees more out of habit than modesty. He had fought with Nezuko for enough time to get a view of her legs, but that was in the heat of battle, when she called on her demon powers and her tattoos burned across her skin.

He heard her snicker. He felt flushed and had half a mind to parry at her mockery, but fell silent when she reclaimed the fish and waded out into the dark water.

"Why do you want a goldfish so badly?" He asked, needing something while he watched.

She looked back at him and gave a sheepish shrug. "You always told me stories of festivals and goldfish prizes. So, I guess I've always wanted one."

His brow furrowed when he thought back to those times.

Those times when he would fall asleep leaning against her box, whispering stories to her and plans for the future. He had gone to festivals when he was younger and he regaled her with the details; the music, the lights, the food, the dancing, the games, and the goldfish prizes.

He had wanted to give her all of that.

She paused when the water reached her knees and lowered her hands to let the bag sit on the water. "I'm gonna let them get used to the temperature first." She called, then turned her attention back to the fish. Zenitsu waved and sat back on the grass, setting aside his bag so he could watch.

Occasionally, someone would pass by on the road above them, glance curiously and continue on their way. Even more often, someone might pass and pause a moment to take them in. Not that Zenitsu could blame them, Nezuko looked beautiful standing in the dark water, a few coils of her long hair falling loose around her face, the line of her back arching as she bent to accommodate the fish and speak softly—

He snorted and called out, "Are you talking to the fish?"

"Yes! And you're scaring them!" She snapped back.

He laughed and watched her talking to the fish until she felt like it was time. He heard the distant sound of the plop and Nezuko waved at the surface of the water. She tucked the plastic bag in her belt before she began picking her way across the lake, the helm of her tied-up kimono skimming the top of the water

He got up and offered her his hand when she came back to shore. Nezuko thanked him with a smile and grabbed his wrist so he could hoist her out of the water. He walked backward until they were back on the dry land. "Do you feel better?" He asked.

"I do."

Her hands were still on his wrist, wet and cold from the rescue mission.

Zenitsu drew his hand back. "I, uh, I think I have a towel in my bag, if you want." He said and knelt to grab the bag off the ground.

The sound of something exploding in the distance made him jolt.

He looked up to see the sky full of color.

Fireworks.

The bright sparks rose high over the dark outline of trees, filling the dark sky with pinks and yellows, blues and greens. The reflection of their descent falling across the water in a sparkling arch.

"I forgot about those," he mumbled, more so to himself. "Do you want to head back into town?"

"It's alright." Nezuko nudged his shoulder and he moved aside a little as she dropped onto the ground beside him, her eyes bright and full of wonder. "I think we have better seats here."

He settled on the ground, bag falling off his lap. He drew his knees up to rest his elbows on. They sat watching the fireworks light up the night and listening to the distant cheers of the crowd back in town.

Nezuko's eyes were alight with the colors, her lips parted in awe.

"Have you ever seen fireworks before?" He asked and she shook her head.

He forgot sometimes that before they met, she had lived a secluded life, away from civilization in the mountains. She and Tanjiro were such naturals on those missions, picking along forest paths, racing ahead of their parties with the ease of people who grew up in wilderness and were not afraid of it.

They were coltish and nervous in large cities, not sharing in Inosuke's brash confidence, they instead stuck to corners of buildings and bolted across full streets, eyes wide and wary.

"We never had festivals where we lived," she said, not removing her gaze from the sky. "The nearest village was at the base of a mountain and it was too small to have them. Even if the neighboring villages had one, we had too many little ones to safely travel with."

She said it with a shrug, but there was a tug on her mouth, a heaviness in her voice like tears climbing in her throat. He could hear the timber.

She looked at him after a moment and winced. "Sorry, I just think about these things sometimes and," she trailed off, not needing to finish. She had spent two years waiting to mourn, unable to feel the hole her family left.

It was a process like everything else.

Zenitsu felt the awkward bite of anxiety. In moments like these, he was often at his worst. He had never been very good at comforting people, Nezuko especially. Her tears would often bring him to panic, offering her up everything but his sword.

Sometimes, she would laugh, warmed by his efforts, but this did not feel like one of those times.

How could he give her something that would never return?

Tanjiro and Kanao were much better at this. Inosuke even had his talents.

Still—

"I think they're looking at them too," he said, drawing Nezuko's attention. He blushed and turned his face to the water. Colors falling across the dark. "I mean, your family looks after you and Tanjiro. You've said so yourself you have visions of them sometimes. I think they look down on you two and maybe when they do, maybe they look around at the world too. Maybe they go to festivals."

There was a beat of silence.

Then, she nudged his shoulder.

"You think my family haunts festivals?" There was a smile in her voice, but he was too nervous to look at her.

"It's not a bad way to spend the afterlife," he said, wincing at his own words. Gods, why couldn't he shut up? "It would be fun. You never have to wade through the crowds, countless dances, good music, fireworks—I image that for Gramps sometimes and it makes me feel—"

She touched his wrist and his words dry up in his throat, her hands were still cold and a little damp from the water. He looked at her as she leaned into him, her warm breath puffing against his cheek.

He froze. Every muscle in his body locking and his senses pulling to attention.

Her lips on his cheek at once felt featherlight and heavy as stone. The smooth feeling of her skin against his own, the grip of her hand in his, the proximity her so close.

His skin was hot by the time she pulled away. A breath escaped his chest from where it had been locked up with a long exhale. He touched his cheek where she kissed him, fingers ghosting over that space, and feeling the shiver of gooseflesh that bustled under his skin. Her touch felt like an imprint, a tattoo like her demon marks, or the Marks of the Chosen.

He wanted to keep it there forever.

"Zenitsu." Her grip flexed against his hand, her two hands cradling his across their knees. He looked at her and found her assessing him, as if gauging for reaction. Her lower lip had disappeared from between her teeth, but after a moment, it appeared again. She smiled. "You okay?"

There was laughter in her voice. The thud of her heartbeat like the beat of a drum.

He was delighted to note that her cheeks had darkened too, a pale shade of pink dimmed by the moonlight.

"'m brilliant." He grinned, another pop of the fireworks like an explosion in his chest. He added, "Does this mean you'll marry me?"

This time it was her turn to snort and hit his shoulder, which given her demon strength, hurt only a lot. He yowled, making a show of rubbing his arm and asking her why she was so mean to him. Nezuko rolled her eyes, but still did not let go of his hand. He did not bother to mention it. Fearful that she might take that back.

She smiled at him, all bright warmth and sunshine. "Thank you for bringing me here, Zenitsu."

"No problem." He mumbled.

They stayed like that until the sky when dark and it was time to head back to camp. Nezuko unknotted her sleeves and skirt, and pulled on her shoes. To his surprise, and hers it seemed, she reached for his hand before turning back up the path.

Their fingers threaded together, warm and cool.

They walked hand-in-hand back to the campsite, no words passed between them, but the sound of the crickets and the music of the festival filtering out the further they went. Their fingers would untangle before they reacted the clearing, when Zenitsu stepped forward to lower a branch for her and Nezuko stepped around it.

Once they cleared the path, they were engulfed in the warmth of their friends, long back from the festivities and needing their help gathering wood for the fire.

Summer was coming to an end and the chill of autumn would begin soon.

my fourth kny fic!

Whelp, if you've read "Strikes Twice" I've made it even more angsty. Zenitsu is falling deeper in love. It's okay, everything turns out well in the end.

I know we have the characterization that Nezuko is sweet and kind, but I wanted to give her some sass because balance. She could put anyone in their place. I would love to see her build up a repour with other characters, have inside jokes, tease Zenitsu a little (bc boy deserves it sometimes).

This might be my last KNY for a bit, I am playing with a Sanemi/Kanae piece, but it's touch and go right now while I work on my promised BNHA pieces (NatShig and TogaChako), also I'm job hunting right now.

lettme know what you think, check out my other fics, tell me about it in the comments!

-cafeanna