Chapter 7 - swimming lessons / The Appointment / -think or sink-

Taking swimming lessons with Mr. Urokodaki was a lesson in pain.

Sure, Tanjiro could swim, but in the coldest part of the day against the pounding waves for hours on end while middle-aged men laughed at him from the shore? It made his cheeks burn with embarrassment.

"If you wouldn't quit on them, then don't quit on this," Mr. Urokodaki coached him before either of them had their breakfast. "And think before you go diving into the open ocean next time!"

Tanjiro could tell the man was livid with him, and not even the laughing fisherfolk seemed to want to get in the middle of that one. They only nodded quietly, whistled, and got out of the way.

"Muscle sinks! A strong body is heavy! Much too heavy for you to expect someone else to drag it out of the water for you! So sink or swim, but don't ever just dive in and expect someone else to rescue you again! Do you understand me?"

"Y-ye-" Tanjiro burbled when a wave washed into his mouth. After a brief coughing fit, he continued, "Yes!" He was already shivering. His muscles were still sore from the previous day. He barely had time for a proper warmup before Mr. Urokodaki had unceremoniously pushed him in from the dock.

He was hungry too, but it was a vague and distant thing compared to what it sometimes was. Next to the creeping exhaustion, it was barely a concern.

Urokodaki kept him out there for almost two hours, and by the time he let Tanjiro drag himself in, it was time to open the shop. His limbs were weak and he could still feel the ocean rocking him with each wobbly step up the beach, but so many of the men who laughed at him earlier now had encouraging words. "It'll get better!" they said, and, "you can swim almost as long as my kid!" and, "at least you're not coughing up the whole ocean! Good job!"

It was encouraging. Vaguely.

Tanjiro was sure that the dark voice wouldn't have said it with the same bright, laughing tone, so he could be grateful for their good humor at least.

"Keep stretching, and don't stiffen up," Mr. Urokodaki told him while he was still dead on his feet, then handed him a bowl of something filled with spinach. "You take the morning shift today. Don't slack off either."

"Yes sir..." Tanjiro sighed tiredly, without complaint, and grabbed his smock off the hook.

Urokodaki grunted behind him. He had no complaints either.

Zenitsu finally found him around lunchtime.

"Hey!" the bed-headed blonde waved when he saw Tanjiro at work taking lunch orders.

"What can I get you-" the redhead asked without looking. "Oh. Hey Zenitsu. Soup or tea, what'll it be?"

"Neither, I've been looking for you since yesterday. The guys at the inn said you started working here; I wanted to see if you landed on your feet." He stood back and looked around. "This doesn't seem to be a cushy cafe job."

"Nope," Tanjiro chuckled and rubbed the back of his head. It still hurt, so he stopped after touching it just once.

"That was a wince. Touchy subject?" Zenitsu pressed.

"Not exactly. I just got hired here first," Tanjiro shrugged.

"And if that's the way you're going to drift through life, you're not going to get anywhere, my man. Seriously. Try again. Anywhere has to be better than a stinky old wharf." Zenitsu whispered conspiratorially.

Tanjiro sighed. "They're treating me pretty well here, actually, and I got to write the new menu. What do you think?"

Zenitsu scrunched up his nose. "You can do better."

"You didn't even look," Tanjiro crossed his arms.

"I didn't have to. I know you. Crouching tiger, hidden badass. You handled yourself like a champ out there. Well, not a champ, but at least not a total chump."

"Thanks, Zenitsu," Tanjiro's smile was brighter today, but he still wasn't laughing.

"All I'm saying, is with a little training, you could do some serious good around here. You should try again, apply again, maybe after things settle down a bit."

Tanjiro shook his head. "I embarrassed myself pretty badly, I think," he said. "And now they've set up an appointment like they're my doctor. I don't feel right about this, Zenitsu."

"You don't have to. Just go to that appointment, alright?"

Tanjiro was still mulling it over. If Zenitsu hadn't pushed, he likely would've talked himself into it. But with the extra pressure, it didn't sit right. "Are you here to make me?" Tanjiro asked, arms still crossed.

"Just think about it, alright?" Zenitsu smiled knowingly.

Of all things, that's what got on Tanjiro's nerves. He was tired of the runaround. In a fit of... he didn't even know what, Tanjiro asked, "And what happens if I don't?"

"Then you're back in the same predicament you were before, probably."

Tanjiro rolled his eyes, unimpressed.

"Except I'll have to check on you, because I know you, and that'll get in the way of doing my job." Zenitsu sighed and explained slowly, like he was speaking to a child.

"And if I don't want you to?" Tanjiro asked, a little hurt.

"Then I'll have to show up at your job."

Tanjiro shook his head. "And if you can't find me?"

"Tanjiro. My man. Calm down."

Tanjiro expected something dark to rise inside of him, saying, 'oh, I'll show you calm-', but it never did. Instead, he simply huffed indignantly, and that was that.

"I... can see we've gotten off on the wrong foot today."

Tanjiro turned away from the counter and leaned against the doorframe.

"You don't have to sulk."

So he didn't sulk. Honestly.

"Listen, buddy," Zenitsu tried.

"You barely know me, Zenitsu. What makes you want to spend all this effort?" Tanjiro asked him with a quiet sigh.

"Because you're the first guy I met who's actually been nice to me in a long time," Zenitsu answered, gesturing wildly with his hands, then the words spilled out all at once, "and I think I can do something to help you."

Tanjiro shook his head. "What makes you think I need help?" He was still trying to be nice, he was, but nothing seemed right about this situation at all, and somehow the absence of that dark voice made it harder not to worry today.

"See? That's it. That's exactly it. The fact that you don't see it. And you probably don't understand half of it yourself. Just like-"

"Can I help you, young man?" Mr. Urokodaki's voice rose less-than-patiently from the back. "Our little shop serves soup and tea. If you'd like to thank our wait staff for service above-and-beyond, it's customary to leave a tip."

It was Zenitsu's turn to sigh. "What do you think I was doing-" but then he stopped himself. "Sure, sure. I'll see you after work, buddy!" Then he waved and excused himself.

Mr. Urokodaki's spine was rigid. "I heard that a boy's been bothering the service staff in the area. You let me know if he tries to push you into anything you don't want to do again, alright?" he told Tanjiro protectively.

Tanjiro tried placating the old man. "Sure, sure. I'll just tell him 'no' next time."

Mr. Urokodaki said, "Good," as he yawned and headed for the back again. "It wouldn't be good to let our customers see you arguing with someone."

Tanjiro tried not to wince as he thought about skipping his appointment, and what he might sound like when those voices returned.

No, letting them see him arguing with himself wouldn't be a good thing either.

Tanjiro found out that while Carla and Shandrie lived on the other side of town, they loved to come to the beach on dates. They promised to visit him next week if he was still around.

Next week, after his first appointment.

He asked if they had a favorite tea.

Strawberry and lemon custard, they told him, from a shop that sold custom herbal mixes. So Tanjiro told Mr. Urokodaki, and the old man came back with a small sample the next day. It didn't fit well with the plum notes in their sweetest soup, but it did surprisingly well with a tomato dish filled with savory smoked spices and summer vegetables-in addition to noodly seaweed strings. Even though stocking for it took up a lot of room on the shelves, they added it to the menu.

With the addition of tomatoes, their shop neighbor offered a few chowder recipes. She, Urokodaki, and Tanjiro got into an enlightening discussion on diet and variety, and they eventually settled on a new menu with options for omnivores too.

"You should have told me you were a vegetarian," said Urokodaki. "I thought you looked a little thin for your age."

That night, their soup was full of lentils. Far heavier and more protein-packed than rice, after a thousand of the tiny red legumes, Tanjiro thought he'd never eat again.

Bursting with chickpeas and potatoes, Urokodaki added the dish to their "private menu," and promised Tanjiro that he would keep it in stock, especially if the local tavern served nothing but salad.

"You do pay me enough that I can afford some groceries," Tanjiro insisted. "It's not like I'll go hungry."

But Urokodaki was determined to make sure of that.

"Vegetarian or vegan?" he asked pointedly.

"Vegetarian for now. I'm trying," he told the man, thinking he couldn't read what was behind it.

Mr. Urokodaki gave him a long stare. It made Tanjiro nervous. Finally, he said, "Then I'll switch the soy sauce too. And you'll need to learn about fermented vegetables."

Tanjiro nodded, certain that he would under Mr. Urokodaki's thorough tutelage.

He didn't mind feeling adopted by the old man, Tanjiro just wanted to know more about his invisible blade.

Maybe learning that could help him feel a little more self-reliant again.

Four more days came and went. Both Urokodaki and Tanjiro exercised every morning in the ocean.

The water was brisk on his skin. Long into the day, his muscles still held that pleasant soreness that only comes from a good workout. It felt good to settle into a routine again.

On the fourth day, Kailani and her family joined in, cheering Urokodaki on.

'It's about time you started teaching class again!" she said.

Mr. Urokodaki didn't smile. He only went over his strict safety rules with her daughter.

"I'm Manaia," the girl introduced herself as she approached. She was much younger than them, in her mid-twenties, and just being polite.

"Tanjiro," he answered as he waved from the water. His swimming form was unbalanced without it, and his arm splashed back down into the waves with an awkward thunk.

He must've looked silly because she laughed. "I can see why they like you," she said. "I bet the spirits will too."

"Who?" asked Tanjiro.

"No breaks!" shouted Mr. Urokodaki.

"Yes sir!" Tanjiro stiffened and went right back to swimming.

Manaia chuckled again.

Then her mother gave her the eye, and she dove into the water too. "Don't go harassing that boy with your stories, little one. Not unless you ask me and your father first. They aren't for tangata o waho, not yet."

Tanjiro repeated the shape of the unknown words in his mind while he exercised.

After he said his goodbyes to them and their morning exercise routine was over, he looked up the phrase.

It meant outsiders.

Not being able to share stories... really made him feel like one.

The fifth day came.

Tanjiro agonized about it all morning, whether or not to go to his appointment. The one that the people at Kasane Mountain Research had no right to enforce on him. The one that might mean giving up some of his freedom to people he barely knew.

The one where he could maybe start asking questions about this whole ordeal. If they were working on the same problem, that was.

Tanjiro called his problem 'ghosts.' Zenitsu called them 'demons.'

Those two things had very different connotations.

"I'm thinking about applying again," Tanjiro told Mr. Urokodaki as they closed up for the evening.

"Oh? At the place that rejected you?" The old man grunted as Tanjiro helped him pull down a heavy box from a high shelf.

Tanjiro fumbled with the box cutter. "I'd still want to work here, I just don't think I'm done with that place." And they certainly didn't seem done with him, not yet.

Urokodaki frowned as he restocked the back shelves with the contents of the box. "Why?"

Mr. Urokodaki's question sat between them like a stone. Sputtering, Tanjiro busied himself helping the old man instead of answering right away. Why indeed?

Why pursue this at all? He needed a steady job, not more adventures chasing down a problem he'd managed to find his equilibrium with years ago. Sure, his way wasn't a solution, but his records showed that he wasn't getting worse anymore, and that had to count for something, didn't it?

Then he ran his fingers through his hair and thought about the others, frowning. His way didn't work nearly as well for them. What could he accomplish if he ran away now, just because the situation didn't sit right?

"If it was just about me, I don't think I'd go," Tanjiro told his boss. "But if something that they do helps people like-" he hesitated, "people like Jerry, then I should try to learn all I can, shouldn't I?"

Mr. Urokodaki nodded thoughtfully. "Where did you say this job was again?"

"Kasane Mountain Research," Tanjiro told him.

"Don't go," said Mr. Urokodaki suddenly.

Surprise cascaded over Tanjiro's face. "Why?"

"Because people like you don't come back from that place the same," the old man told him quietly. "Whatever you want to know, I'll teach you instead. That way you'll stand a chance of passing their... test," he fumbled with the word.

"...But I already failed," Tanjiro told him slowly.

"If you'd failed," said Urokodaki pointedly, "you'd be dead."

'Oh,' thought Tanjiro. 'Ominous.'

Tanjiro was a no-show to his appointment that evening.

"Predictable," a man hissed into Mr. Tomioka's communication device. "Do you have time to hunt him down?"

Tomioka took a moment to respond. "I should," he said slowly, checking his schedule. A few blocks of time were filled in with different shades of blue. The deepest, darkest one read "refresh seal" in plain letters. The nearest timer ticked down in the bottom left corner. "Kamado."

His wasn't the only name scheduled for that night.

"Make it quick, or I'll have to send Zenitsu after him again."

"Zenitsu might be enough to take him," Giyuu asked, "why not send him instead?"

"You're closer. And maybe you'll get through to him. We received a report that they may have had a minor falling out."

Giyuu sighed.

"Predictable," hissed the other man.

That didn't mean Giyuu had hoped for it.

Tanjiro didn't feel so good as the sun slipped below the horizon. He took his supplements. They didn't help nearly as much as he expected them to. Something was different about this time.

He would have felt bad about skipping his 'appointment' if it came from a medical doctor. And he would have felt bad if he hadn't been dealing with these symptoms for over a decade.

Still, as he sat on the bench at the end of the wharf, out in the salt and the sea spray at the end of the longest dock, he hoped no one would see him shaking, and no one would hear his quiet protests of pain.

Last time he barely noticed, high on adrenaline and already rattled from his fight with Mr. Tomioka. Tanjiro should have known better, he thought, than to go into an unknown situation with such strong emotions and a literal fight on his hands, but what was done was done.

Almost an entire week had passed without so much as a twinge of confused nerves or dark obsessions. His body was nervous in anticipation, even though he tried not to be. Sweat beaded on his brow as he held his head resting on one elbow at the end of the bench and hoped no one would notice. The docks were quiet this time of night. So was the inn, but he wanted to be away from people.

Unasked for, the hour still came when Tanjiro's sense of peace slipped off his shoulders like a fallen cloak. Sensation cascaded up and down his spine, from his gut to the nape of his neck, burning holes in his resolve. It felt good at first, but Tanjiro took it as a warning sign and breathed in and out, trying to make it go away or to distract himself at least. He knew what came next when that happened and he needed to be prepared to resist and there it was, that gnawing, insides-churning pain, like he hadn't eaten in weeks. It came in rising waves and tapered off, and it was all he could do to remember he'd just eaten dinner, and there was nothing to bite into but his own coat. He just needed to ride through it.

Fire kissed his neck, and there was pressure in his spine that rose into the back of his head, and Tanjiro coughed over the side of the bench, dizzy with it. Voices fluttered through his ears like he was tuning a radio, and something inside of him wanted to lash out at a nearby screeching seagull and-

-destroy that feathered menace, wring its neck and drink its insides and-

'Hello, old friend.' Tanjiro grimaced weakly through the pain.

-You've been starving me.- an unamused voice accused him.

'We've been dieting far longer than that. And I had lentils just hours ago. We're not hungry,' Tanjiro insisted.

-You aren't.-

'I'm not,' Tanjiro agreed, even as another wave of that feeling hit him from behind. He gasped and clutched the bench.

-You and I need to have a talk.-

'It can wait. Until whatever this is, is over.' Tanjiro breathed.

-No it can't. It won't be very long until the other one regenerates too. And Tanjiro I can't fight both of you at once, not without- -

He didn't want to sound cruel, but Tanjiro was having none of it tonight. 'I can, and I will fight you, and I won't let you play tricks on me like this.' His cheeks burned as that sensation rose into his face, higher and higher every time; it flooded through him. He grit his teeth.

-Tanjiro, listen- -

"No. You listen." Tanjiro insisted out loud. Anger and unsteady violence crashed into him, and it was all he could do to translate it into words as some small piece of it vented through his mouth. "Whoever you are, you've made my life a living hell for almost as long as I can remember. You're the reason I left home, you're the reason I'm not talking to my friends. You're the reason I can't have a plain conversation with anyone about how I'm doing because I don't want to drop the sheer weight of you on anyone's shoulders, new friend or not!"

-...- the voice felt expectant, but said nothing. Tanjiro could hear the way the silence between them built and growled, like that angry noise in the back of his throat.

His teeth clicked together and locked. They felt heavy and awkward in his mouth. They were still small, but already too sharp against his lips.

'It's your turn to listen!' Tanjiro struggled to hold the words inside his mind. 'I just want to live a halfway normal life, no violent thoughts, no darkness, no needing to watch myself around friends and family so I don't bite their heads off,'

-Good one,- the voice snorted.

"No, it's not!" Tanjiro hissed out loud. "It's not good at all! I want to be close to people again. I miss that, but if I open up about you, how do you think they're going to react?" Tears gathered in his eyes, but he wiped them away stubbornly without letting them fall. "After everything we wrote together. They probably won't understand-"

Tanjiro heard a soft rustle behind him.

"Won't understand what?" Asked Sakonji.

Tanjiro's heart sank. 'No. No no no no noo...' he wined. If the old man saw him like this, what would he think? What would he do? Would he still teach him anything?

"Tanjiro," the old man approached slowly, one hand out. "I can see that something has you upset. I know I've been pushing you hard for the past few days, but it's because I believe you can take it."

"Mr. Urokodaki, sir, right now isn't a good time," the grown man wiped his eyes again and again, and spoke without turning to face him.

"It never seems to be, but you don't need to be ashamed. Being upset is natural. It's what we choose to do after that counts."

"Tonight I'd like to choose to be alone," Tanjiro asked him, struggling to keep his voice steady. 'I don't want to hurt you, sir,' he wanted to say, but his jaw locked despite him.

"I remember what it was like to be young. This can't hurt me. Talk to me, boy. What's going on?"

Tanjiro shook his head. "I..." his breath came out hard, like he'd been punched in the gut, caught in another wave of pain. His expression darkened and he closed his mouth with a click. Then he got up, holding himself about the middle. "I have to go, sir." He breathed, and took off briskly.

His swift footsteps retreated down the dock, fading into the night.

Reaching after him gently, Sakonji let him go.

Tanjiro barely registered where he was as he stumbled through the city streets, his head still pulsing darkly.

-You haven't been eating any meat at all, have you?- the stern voice asked. Red droplets flowered in colorless water inside his mind, one by one.

'Trying to go vegan,' Tanjiro slurred, trying to think of something else instead. Anything else.

-And what do you think that will accomplish, tell me again? Do our symptoms seem normal to you?- Wood smoke gathered in his thoughts. It smelled vaguely sweet and vegetal. Then his sense of it burned through to ash.

'You're just trying to stop me.'

-No. I'm trying to gather enough strength to protect you.- Tanjiro's stomach twisted, something inside him felt like it ground together, and he tasted iron briefly. He held his stomach, as though that could stop it from-...

Another voice bubbled up in his ears, rattling in mocking, hateful falsetto. -From what, stranger?- An eyeless shape inside him grinned with sharp and wicked teeth, curling his stomach with hunger.

Pressure built inside Tanjiro's head. He put his hands on both ears and pressed in, mouth agape in a silent scream as their conflict built within him. A sense of bright fire rose inside his mind, and smoke drifted out between his lips. A roar built in his ears as the rising growl of the first voice filled with heat and tongues of fire, and slammed down with an effort of will onto the voice of the hateful second.

Tanjiro stumbled, the second voice screamed through a dozen other voices, and as it burned away, so did the pressure.

-From that.- said the first voice.

Tanjiro felt dizzy. He collapsed against a nearby building. 'W-what was...' but he slipped and fell and sat on the pavement. Within moments, he couldn't remember what happened.

-Typical. At this rate we'll never learn…- the first voice trailed off too, shuddering in pain. -Remember to eat something substantial,- the voice tried to tell him, -or I'll have to use what little strength we have left to...-

'To...'

-To... I...-

'What was I... talking about...?"

There was no answer. Tanjiro's vision swam and went dark.

Mr. Urokodaki found him that way: collapsed against a building not far from the docks.

He was lucky someone was looking; he was lucky Sakonji found him first.

Urokodaki approached the sleeping figure on the pavement, blade already out. Tanjiro didn't look any worse for wear, but it was already an hour after Urokodaki had last seen him. He carried the younger man to his car. Tanjiro didn't awaken.

Urokodaki could swear he smelled wood smoke on the boy's breath.