Chapter 4 - eleven seventy-five, eight-hundred one two tou / Only I Control Me / -he's going to get us killed!-

-He's going to kill us.-

'Calm down. It gets worse when I'm nervous.'

-Can't you hear me!?-

'I don't need this right now.'

-If you don't fight back, we're going to die!-

'Calm. Show him you're not a threat. He's just scared. He'll back down.'

-TANJIRO, listen to me!-

'No.'

Tanjiro shook and held his hand to his forehead while Zenitsu held his blade in the air, ready to strike. The man's voice was muffled.

"...-said what are you!?" Zenitsu yelled.

"I-..." Tanjiro's hands trembled with a mix of fear and the desperate urge to fight back, to end the threat that Zenitsu posed before he could- "J-just calm down-" he begged-both Zenitsu and himself.

"I am calm!" Zenitsu shrieked, laughing and clearly high on adrenaline. "Can't you see how calm this situation is making me? You, you brought me out here hunting ghosts, and that monster, and what do I find when I turn around? But the guy I trusted, the guy I let feed me his trail mix and take me fishing all day, the guy I was going to go camping with or whatever else because I couldn't find a place to sleep tonight is just another damn monster!"

"I'm not-"

"Don't interrupt!" Zenitsu hissed. "It's rude, just like abandoning me in the middle of the night at that bus station! The thing I can't figure out is what is your GAME? Make me trust you? Lure me into a false sense of security? Really baste the meat in fear!? Oh, oh you have no idea how many of you psychos I've faced. Just how many assholes have had it out for the cowardly letch-"

"Baste the meat in-? Zeni-"

"I'm not FINISHED! You're going to tell me who you are, you're going to tell me why you were working for this scumbag, and then I'm going to free you from his influence once and for all!"

"I have no idea what you're talking about!" Tanjiro finally roared back, flaring his arms wide. It made Zenitsu flinch back and settle into a stance. "I'm not working for anybody! I've been honest with you this whole time, whether you listened to me or not! I'm only in this town because I need a job and the last place I worked scared the hell out of me! Working for this guy? Not a chance! I just thought you could use a meal, and I didn't bring my own fishing pole! Now would you explain what in the world you think you're doing!?"

-Planning to serve us up like shish-kabob, that's what- -

-'NOT now, you.'- Tanjiro's inner voice took on a warning edge. He winced and tried not to growl, but Zenitsu heard him anyway.

"Nice try," Zenitsu's nostrils flared derisively, "But you're clearly under the influence of one of them, and I can't just let you go." So he swung his blade.

Tanjiro's left arm blocked it without his input. A cold, dark iron ridge ran along its length. Not one to waste an opening, Tanjiro leaned forward and punched him in the gut with his right.

Zenitsu crumpled around his fist.

"One. Of. What." Tanjiro demanded an answer, breathing heavily.

"The demons," Zenitsu croaked out.

Oh. Tanjiro rolled his eyes. "Demons aren't real."

-Is that right?-

"Bad influences, maybe. Intrusive thoughts, yeah. But nothing and no one controls me, Zenitsu, other than my own will."

"Then you won't mind if I put that to the test!" In one fluid movement, Zenitsu tripped him, Tanjiro hit the floor, and then the blonde was up.

In a flash, Zenitsu's blade sliced up from his side and back down through the boat, and straight through Tanjiro's neck.

His arm shuddered and went limp. His eyes rolled back, and his head hit the floor.

Tanjiro lost consciousness in an instant.

By the time he awoke again, Tanjiro felt smooth hands dragging him through the water. It woke him with a start.

"Finally," Zenitsu sighed. "For what it's worth, I think you're a good guy. It would have been a shame to lose you that way."

Tanjiro struggled and brushed Zenitsu's hands off, then sat up in the water. At least he had a change of clothes in his backpack. He felt around his neck-it was still sore, but no worse for the wear. He couldn't see through the gloom, and both his arms were normal. That awful fire at the back of his neck was gone too.

"What did you do to me?" he asked.

Zenitsu's face scrunched up. "Not sure exactly. Usually the monster bits all just sort of... fly off or melt away, and it all goes somewhere else. Not with you. You just kindof... went back to normal. You even sound different." Then he clapped Tanjiro on the shoulder. "Whatever they did to you, it seemed pretty minor, and it was probably recent. You don't have anything to be afraid of."

Right.

...

But when he waited for that intrusive voice to comment, for once, it didn't.

"The effect should last for a while-it's called a seal-and they shouldn't be able to tag you with the same thing again, at least for a few days. Let's get out of here and rest up while we can."

"I have... pfff," he spit out some seawater, "way too many questions." Tanjiro sighed.

"They can wait. We have to go."

"What about Emmet?"

"That asshole who tried to kill us? Why would you care?"

"Will he remember anything?"

"No, they usually don't. ... Do you?"

"If I said I did?"

"I'd call you a liar, but we have to get going. Get your backpack."

Tanjiro did. There was no point in doing otherwise. "Alright, Zenitsu."

"So you remember that much at least." he said as they started walking swiftly up the ramp and away from the water. "I didn't see anyone suspicious on the first bus. Did anyone do anything strange on the second one?"

"..."

"Tanjiro?"

"I don't think so."

"You really are a useless bumpkin."

"Thanks," Tanjiro said through smiling teeth.

Zenitsu inspected them before nodding. Whatever that meant. "You promised me a bed. It's the least you can do to repay me for saving your hide."

The redhead sighed. "Fine." It was the most trouble he'd faced in a while, and Tanjiro had to admit it was stupid for him to go alone. But this was the first person he'd ever met who seemed to notice what was going on with him, and that was something.

Maybe they were both a little strange.

Tanjiro rubbed his right eye with the heel of his hand. His vision didn't change.

Somehow, for once, he didn't feel tense, just tired. He didn't feel as strange either.

When he looked at his phone to tell the time-just before midnight-the numbers still broke into words, but he'd been that way for as long as he could remember.

The rest of it didn't start until college, until after he slept at a friend's and-

Nope nope nope nope Nope! If he started thinking about that he'd never get to sleep tonight.

One ghost story at a time. No need to keep bringing up old ones.

Zenitsu followed Tanjiro as he dragged himself on to the cheap room he'd rented near the docks. He'd have picked a nicer part of the city if he could afford it, but this one was near cheap food and working-class jobs if he needed to fall back on that. The port could sustain him, whether he could find the job he really wanted or not.

He let Zenitsu take the bed while he crashed on his curling camp pad on the floor, somehow more exhausted than he'd been in a long, long time.

Morning came; Tanjiro woke up first. He felt rested, better than he'd been in a while.

His neck was still sore but his spine didn't crack when he stretched. Maybe a stiffer mattress was all that was needed.

Tanjiro visited Sakonji again that morning, and brought back soup and a cut of smoked salmon for Zenitsu. He might as well treat the guy who saved his life.

The redhead learned that salmon wasn't Zenitsu's favorite food at least when the blonde complained about it, but eel was expensive. The salmon had been too.

"So," Tanjiro asked between mouthfuls of miso. "Do you feel like explaining anything this morning?"

"Nope," Zenitsu told him. "You first."

Yeah, that wasn't happening. "You're the one with a weapon."

Zenitsu sputtered. "You could see that!?"

Tanjiro blinked and stopped eating. "Was I not supposed to?"

The blonde opened and closed his mouth like a fish.

"Zenitsu?"

"That settles it. You're coming with me to my interview."

"Something tells me maybe this isn't for the kind of position I was looking for."

"It'll let you travel," Zenitsu offered, grinning.

Somehow, that didn't make Tanjiro feel any better. "Only if you tell me what it's for beforehand. Then maybe."

"Ah, hah, you don't seem to understand. You're either coming with me, or someone else is going to stumble over you before long. Either you're just like I am, or somehow you can actually remember what happened while you were under that guy's influence. Either way, there are people who will want to know about that. And I'm going to have to tell them."

"This doesn't sound like an interview anymore."

Zenitsu shrugged, then asked, "So, did no one ever train you?"

"Train me in what?"

Zenitsu held his hands in front of him. A stiff breeze that came from nowhere fluttered his hair and clothing and suddenly Tanjiro could smell ozone, but nothing else happened. He couldn't see it. "This."

Tanjiro blinked.

Zenitsu waved his hands in the air.

Wind and pressure told Tanjiro to duck, and something buzzed just next to his scalp. His hair stood on end.

"Can you do that?"

"I..."

"Don't be shy! Show me your-"

"Zenitsu,"

"What?"

"I have no idea how you're doing that."

Zenitsu regarded him carefully, then he relaxed his hands and the strange feeling went away. He bit his lip, uncertain. "Just... follow me today."

Tanjiro looked unsure.

"And if they like you, maybe you'll find out."

'Kasane Mountain Research' read the sign outside the squat, glass building that Zenitsu brought him to. It wound in white and pale violet curves along its lot, like a nautilus shell with a wavy, triangular mouthpiece, capturing a green space inside under a frosted glass dome.

"You'll have to wait in the visitor's section," Zenitsu told him. "Nothing personal."

Tanjiro shrugged, he didn't take it that way.

Twin black benches fanned out from the front desk behind a cascading glass curtain that served as an art installation. It wrapped around the room, a glittering mural of scattered shapes and colors. Pale purple and green, and bright and dark blue were the most prominent, but bubbles of earthier tones and little tongues of yellow cascaded between them, like a painting. The mural chimed softly as they opened the front door and sent it rippling with music.

The man at the front desk lifted his head and smiled. Zenitsu motioned for Tanjiro to stay back as he approached. As they spoke in low tones, the redhead couldn't hear what they were saying. Eventually the receptionist gave Zenisu a card, gestured to a nearby door and Zenitsu swiped it and went through.

Then Tanjiro sat down on a bench and waited. The receptionist ignored him.

Around one side of the atrium, empty chairs and tables curved off around the building, like some kind of public presenting hall. After a few minutes, Tanjiro stood and approached the receptionist. "Is it alright if I wander that way?" he asked.

The young man, dressed smartly in a crisp black and white outfit, nodded.

The wide hall didn't wrap on long before meeting a secure door with a high glass wall, so Tanjiro sat down again at a more comfortable angle in one of the chairs. He kept the entrance in sight, and the receptionist's desk, but not the receptionist, just barely. The man would be able to see his feet and know where he was, but not the rest of him, and not where he was looking.

Tanjiro felt calmer today than he had in a while, so instead of meditating, he pulled out a notebook. One short journal entry later-that skipped all the interesting bits-he began to draw, leaving words and encoded numbers embraced by languid motion and strings to help him read it later. There he recorded the parts of the last few days that he didn't think he'd forget, but he was sure he didn't want anyone else reading.

He spared a thought for Emmet. Somehow there wasn't a scratch on the man, but he'd hit his head pretty hard. Tanjiro felt terrible that they hadn't checked to see if he needed the hospital.

Or called someone yet to investigate just how many of Emmet's stories about missing people were true.

Tanjiro shuddered.

The waiting voice said nothing.

Tanjiro set down his pencil and blew over his work. Scarce specks of graphite scattered into the room. He pulled out a felt-tipped pen next and retraced his work one way, then a green pen, then a red one. With the green pen, he retraced the numbers and words to say only what he meant in strong, optimistic phrasing. Then with the red pen...

The red pen hovered over the page, hesitating. No words came at all.

That was... different.

Tanjiro wondered how long that would last.

He settled back in his chair and put the red pen away. On the next page, he began to draw his surroundings, mostly the mural. He counted how many wavy, dribbling icicles it took to make each round, inter-connected circle in the dark blue canopy, then paid attention to the larger ones in the green and purple cascade beneath. The earth tones met with blue again and trickled down like a rain of flower petals, almost to the floor in some places. The margins of his notebook overflowed with their numbers for pages and pages. Some of it said nothing, but some became poetry.

/ The path less traveled, long it winds

Through darkened forest, clinging vines

Illusions many, dangers too

Illusions fade, hold on to you. /

...

/ Eleven seventy-five, eight-hundred one two two /

After a moment's hesitation, Tanjiro kept that part in plain English.

"Are you awake?" asked a woman's gentle voice. Tanjiro breathed in and opened his eyes; his head was resting on the table. He rose and looked up.

Gem-like, violet eyes peered back from behind delicate spectacles. The woman's hair was tied back almost-neatly in a ponytail, though a few strands had worked their way rebelliously free over her day. She pulled some few behind her ear uncertainly.

The woman wore her spotless lab coat open, and a purple, square-spotted turtleneck hung beneath to ward away the low setting of the building's air conditioner.

"Y-yeah," Tanjiro stuttered and wiped the sleep away from his eyes. He hadn't realized he was still tired, and the sun scattering in artful colors through the windows made it so much easier to take a nap.

"I wanted to ask if I could see your drawings," she clarified. "Your foreshadowing is quite good," she said as she sat down in an open chair next to him. It didn't make any noise as she did.

Blinking, Tanjiro nodded and passed over his journal. Anything he was uncomfortable with was encoded, and though he felt a little embarrassed about that, the numbers he recorded about the mural were at least measurements too. No matter what they said to him.

She hmmed and hummed as she flipped through his work, commenting in delight when his sketches left empirical precision and flew into gesture and impression, almost leaping from the page. Circles became rings of purple flowers, and he left them encircling blank spaces where he thought he'd draw more later. "Is the empty space a choice?"

Tanjiro bobbed his head back and forth. "Sort of. I'm not sure what to draw there yet. The murals remind me of wisteria. There was an old library near my home that grew it."

"I see!" the woman blinked, smiling in recognition. "What does that remind you of?"

"Calm, lazy afternoons," Tanjiro answered. "Whenever I didn't have work to do, I used to go there and curl up with something, so it reminds me of quiet and space too. It was restful, even if the stories were exciting."

She smiled. "Me too. I think we might have been more alike than different."

"I still wore my hair long back then, a little like yours, now that I think of it."

"I just haven't had the time to cut it," the woman chuckled. Her fingers tapped her lips. "Why did you, if it isn't too personal?"

Tanjiro shrugged. "Long hair just didn't fit anymore, not with hard work and a professional attitude-not for me. I didn't want it to get tangled or caught. It was for practicality, a way of moving on from childhood, and into the modern world."

"Excuse me for mentioning it please," she said as she tapped her fingers against her cheek delicately, "but I don't think one has to make drastic changes in who or how they are to move on from being a child. It's better if we stay more of who we are, don't you think? Like your poem."

"You saw that?" Tanjiro smiled, embarrassed. He'd been so caught up watching her that he didn't notice her turn the page. When he looked down, he found his own fingers entangled in the margins, still marking it. He flipped the pages back without thinking.

" 'Illusions fade, hold on to you.' I think I'll remember that," she said and stood gracefully, smiling.

Tanjiro nodded. He took in a breath to speak again, but another voice echoed down the hallway. Zenitsu was calling his name. He looked toward the entrance and spotted him searching. There was a gust of wind when he opened the door. The mural sang. When Tanjiro looked back, the woman was gone.

Her chair hadn't moved.

"Who were you talking to?" Zenitsu asked when he approached.

"She didn't tell me her name."

"I didn't see anyone. It looked like you were talking to yourself."

Tanjiro blinked. If he was, then it would be the first time he hadn't noticed.

"You'll have to sign some paperwork," the receptionist told Tanjiro when Zenitsu ushered him forward. Someone's voice hissed with static in the young man's ear, offering instructions, but Tanjiro couldn't hear what was said.

Zenitsu could. "Just tell the old snake I already took care of it. Not signed, but sealed and everything! He doesn't have to worry!"

"It's for our insurance," the young man said impassively.

Somehow, Tanjiro could tell it was only a half-truth, so he read the document carefully.

Most of it was about how to properly conduct himself on the grounds. There was a little that might satisfy an insurer, mostly about risks to life and limb (and sanity, Tanjiro noted with a raised eyebrow), but most of it was simple reading, tongue-in-cheek. After a thoughtful moment, he signed.

"It doesn't mention handing over my soul, so I think we're good."

Zenitsu chuckled nervously, and snatched away the page when Tanjiro was done. He gave it his own readover, then reluctantly handed it to the receptionist. "Insurance. Right."

"It said they'd handle healthcare if I got hurt on the premises."

"And they get to choose the doctor. Oh, sweet summer child..."

"I didn't tell you when my birthday is," Tanjiro blinked, not denying it.

It was Zenitsu's turn to facepalm.

The receptionist took Tanjiro's picture and printed out a card. It was a little different from Zenitsu's. 'Visitor's permit,' it read. Zenitsu's card now read 'Intern,' when he swiped it at the door.

"Does that mean they hired you?"

Zenitsu scratched his cheek, smiling confidently. "For a man of my skills, that was a given."

"Ah," Tanjiro said. He tried to relax and just go with it as Zenitsu led him on.

The first hallway was short before the next checkpoint, and they took a left into a room painted in two frosted, neutral gray tones. There was a table with four chairs and a pitcher of water on the end. In the corner was a pot of coffee, aromatic and freshly brewed. Zenitsu took the nearest seat and Tanjiro walked around the table and sat across from him. In the high corner behind the door was a tiny camera.

"They're going to ask you some questions," Zenitsu told him.

"Am I in trouble?" Tanjiro asked.

"No, but you don't have to answer if you're uncomfortable. Just stay calm, don't hit anyone,"

"You swung a sword at my neck, Zenitsu, what was I supposed to do?"

"Aaand you just outed yourself. You weren't supposed to see that. You're not supposed to be able to remember that. And that's why you're here."

Tanjiro closed his eyes. He could have watched his words more carefully.

"You look tired. Do you want some coffee?" Zenitsu offered.

"If we're going to be waiting for a while, sure," Tanjiro accepted.

"You're going to learn to be way more suspicious of what strangers feed you some day..." Zenitsu muttered.

Tanjiro barely heard him mumble. "What?"

"Nothing." He poured one for both of them, less for himself.

Tanjiro let out a breath. "So... if I'm answering questions, does that mean I get to ask any?"

"It's probably better if you don't today, and just give them what they want."

Tanjiro crossed his arms. "I don't like that."

"Now don't be difficult."

"You keep saying they, Zenitsu. 'They did something to you', 'you don't have to answer their questions,' and now I do? When you're not specific, I can't tell what you're talking about. The doubletalk doesn't help either."

Zenitsu set down his coffee like Tanjiro shot him. "That hurts," he feigned.

Tanjiro's sigh was heavier. If he was the kind of guy who would try to hurt someone that way, Zenitsu would know. He bit back the words that could've. It wasn't as difficult today. "What do you mean when you say 'they,' Zenitsu." he asked again, pointedly.

"I told you. Demons. And today, I mean... well, the people asking questions, who might be able to help you."

"An imaginary solution to an imaginary problem?" Tanjiro shook his head.

"You hunt ghosts, and this is where you draw the line?"

"Ghost stories are... different." Tanjiro shook his head. "Beneath them, there's always someone who's afraid, and always someone causing fear." 'At least,' he thought, but didn't want to go into the rest. Their encounter with Emmet N. Mubound told it well enough.

"I'm not sure I want to chase any more ghosts around you." It was Zenitsu's turn to cross his arms.

So Tanjiro uncrossed his and tried a different tactic. "What is a demon," he asked directly.

"Some kind of monster," Zenitsu answered. "They're scary and awful and they influence people. And something that I can do helps to stop that."

"The sword thing?" Tanjiro pressed.

The door cracked open. Zenitsu didn't answer.

"Tanjiro?" a soft voice asked. A man with scruffy hair and deep blue pools for eyes walked in with a stern posture.

"That's me," Tanjiro said back.

"Don't answer any more of his questions, Zenitsu. Not until I'm done with him. You can leave now."

Zenitsu didn't waste time before abandoning him. The door closed behind him, leaving Tanjiro alone with the stranger.

The man poured them two glasses of water. He set one down before Tanjiro without asking. Tanjiro had yet to touch his coffee.

Then he sat down, reading through a file in his hands. They sat in silence for a while.

Finally, the blue-eyed man broke it, "I'd like to go over Zenitsu's report with you, and see if there's anything you'd like to add."

"To be honest, sir, I'm not sure if I should be talking to you," Tanjiro cut him off.

"And why is that?"

"You're not wearing a badge, I don't know you, this is a research facility and not a hospital... and I'm not entirely sure of what I saw," Tanjiro added at the end.

"You can call me Mr. Tomioka," the man said, and showed Tanjiro his clearance badge. 'Giyu Tomioka,' it read, 'Field Expert.' Another interesting coincidence. "If you tell me whatever you thought you saw, no matter how strange, it would help us a lot. You'll be free to go after."

"Does... that mean I'm not right now?" Tanjiro asked slowly.

"I'd be forced to follow you if you did, as a precaution," Mr. Tomioka warned him. "Either Zenitsu is telling stories, or something strange is going on with you. It will be easier if you just tell me, from your perspective, what happened." The man spoke softly, without pressuring him with his tone, and he left Tanjiro plenty of time to gather his thoughts.

No dark voice told him why he shouldn't trust the man. No intrusive thoughts begged him to flee. Despite being in a windowless room, he didn't feel uncomfortable for once, and no unknown force came to him in a dozen different voices, like carrion birds trying to pick apart him or the person across from him or all the peace he could gather in his mind.

Tanjiro felt steady and still for once, so he decided to speak, at least a little.

"I saw Zenitsu, wielding a blade made of lightning. I saw him attack a monster, and now the monster is gone. The man he left behind, we left him unconscious, on a boat," and Tanjiro told him where. "I'm not sure if he needs help, and I've been kicking myself for not calling someone to make sure. He tried to kill us both, and Zenitsu seemed afraid and we were both exhausted, but that's no excuse."

Tomioka flipped through his paperwork and nodded. "And when Zenitsu attacked you on the boat?"

Tanjiro gulped. He reached for his water and busied himself drinking it. That, he wasn't ready to talk about, but the powers that be saw fit to 'bless' him with a face that couldn't lie.

"You're not in trouble," Tomioka reassured him. "No matter what you say, you won't get Zenitsu in trouble either. I just need to know."

After a moment, Tanjiro continued. "I've... felt better since. Better than I've felt in... a while. Zenitsu tried to show me what he did again after and... I couldn't see it anymore, but I could still tell he was doing something. Was it some kind of EMF blade?"

"EMF?"

"A... ghost hunting thing. I don't know what else to call it."

"Ah. It might show up on an electromagnetic scanner, but no." Tomioka answered.

Any answer was progress.

"Can you tell me what you remember about the time when you didn't feel... better?" Tomioka asked in return.

Yeah, Tanjiro wasn't really ready for all of that, so he crossed his arms.

"Anything at all will help," Tomioka pushed, just a little.

"It... comes and goes, and it's worse at night," Tanjiro finally said. "When I eat right, spend time outside, and get enough sleep, it isn't so bad. It makes it hard to relax, but I don't have to..." he cut himself off and searched for a word that didn't make him sound on-edge, "give in to how it makes me feel."

"What do you usually eat?"

"I'm a vegetarian," Tanjiro told him, and described his diet. "I might be taking too many supplements, but I know what symptoms to watch out for and I haven't seen them yet."

The man nodded. He flipped the back of a page over and made notes. "And do you feel that way anymore, the way you did before Zenitsu attacked you?"

Tanjiro rubbed the back of his neck, still sore. "Not right now. Not since last night."

"And you remember last night."

"Zenitsu mentioned that was... strange."

Tomioka nodded, but didn't elaborate.

Tanjiro tapped his foot on the floor nervously. Finally, he asked, "Strange, compared to what?"

Tomioka flipped over another page. He didn't answer.

"Mr. Tomioka? Can you tell me anything?"

"I can strongly encourage you to apply for an interview at our front desk."

"For what job?" Tanjiro asked.

"Intern," Tomioka answered.

It was hardly the time to negotiate, but the redhead thought he might not get another opportunity. "I... think I'm going to need a job with a paycheck."

Tomioka nodded. "Training includes room and board," he gathered his papers together and stood. "And a living wage." He headed for the door.

So they weren't monsters, at least. "Training? For what?" Tanjiro asked.

Tomioka closed the door. That was the only answer he got.