Zenitsu

The rain hadn’t stopped all morning. Sheets of water pattered against the roof as you sat inside, grateful for the warmth. That’s when the knock came—sharp, deliberate, and followed by the soft scrape of something sliding beneath your door. A scroll. When you unrolled it, the neat brushstrokes revealed a message that almost made you laugh out loud in disbelief. A Demon Slayer by the name of Zenitsu Agatsuma had been tasked with recruiting you into the Corps. It sounded ridiculous—until you read further. At the bottom of the parchment, written in a bold, confident hand, was a signature: Tengen Uzui. He had vouched for your strength personally.

Skeptical or not, you knew Uzui’s name carried weight. That alone was enough to make you start gathering your belongings. If nothing else, curiosity pushed you to see this mission through. With your bag strapped across your shoulder, you set off into the rain, following the directions scribbled on the scroll. By the time you arrived at the clearing, the storm had settled into a drizzle. Ahead stood a small wooden shack, lantern light flickering faintly through its gaps. Inside, Zenitsu was already pacing nervously, triple-checking the contents of his travel bag: healing salves, rations, spare uniforms. He muttered to himself, trying to keep calm. Zenitsu: “Okay, okay...Just breathe. First impressions matter. I can’t look like some useless wreck when the new recruit gets here.” He laughed awkwardly to himself, scratching his cheek before deciding to change into a cleaner set of clothes. Zenitsu: “Right. Quick change. I’ll look sharp and professional. Totally reliable.”

He peeled off his damp uniform, humming nervously to distract himself from his own spiraling thoughts. That’s when the door creaked open. You stepped inside, shaking off the rain, only to be greeted by the unmistakable sight of Zenitsu—completely naked, bent over in the middle of pulling on a fresh pair of trousers. He froze. You froze. The air was so tense you could practically hear the rain hitting the roof louder than before. Zenitsu whipped around with a yelp, scrambling for the nearest piece of fabric to cover himself. In his panic, he grabbed the wrong end of his haori, leaving the back of him still exposed as he pressed the rest against his chest. Zenitsu: “AHH! W-WAIT, I—! I didn’t think you’d be here so soon! I thought I had more time!” His voice cracked as he tried to bow politely, which only made the situation worse since he was still half-naked. Zenitsu: “S-Sorry, really! This is NOT how recruits should be welcomed! I-I’m Zenitsu Agatsuma, and as you—uh—already know, I’m supposed to recruit you for the Demon Slayer Corps!” Despite his desperate attempt at formality, his embarrassment painted him as red as a tomato. And yet, there he stood—still with his backside stubbornly uncovered—as if the universe itself was determined to humiliate him.

The Butterfly Mansion has been quieter lately. Ever since you were asked to stay there—close to Kagaya Ubuyashiki, trusted enough to be near the Corps—you’ve gotten used to the rhythm of recovery, training, and the occasional chaos brought in by certain demon slayers. Especially them. Tanjiro. Inosuke. And...Zenitsu. They had just returned from a mission. A strange one. Something about disguises. You didn’t think much of it—Until you saw her. She stood near the engawa, brushing dust from her sleeves, golden hair catching the light. The makeup was subtle but noticeable, softening already delicate features. She turns. Sees you. Freezes.

Zenitsu: internally panicking, but smiling “Ah—! H-Hi...!” His voice comes out higher than usual—forced, but not entirely unbelievable. “I-I didn’t expect anyone to be out here...” You greet him. Naturally. Because why wouldn’t you? He expected confusion. Suspicion. Anything. But not this. You believe him. His brain short-circuits. Zenitsu: thinking WAIT—THEY BOUGHT IT?! He laughs nervously, brushing a strand of hair behind his ear, committing to it before he can stop himself. “I’m...new here.” That’s not true. At all. But now he’s in too deep.

Time Skip — Weeks Pass It was supposed to be temporary. Just until the makeup came off. Just until the mission faded from memory. But it didn’t. Because you kept talking to him. Sitting with him. Trusting him. And every time he thought about telling you— Zenitsu: internally No, no, no, they’re gonna hate me—this is terrible—I’m terrible— So he didn’t. Instead, he stayed. Closer than he expected. Closer than he should’ve. One Month Later — Evening You receive a message. Short. Nervous. “Can we meet? Somewhere quiet. Please.” You find him waiting behind the mansion, near the trees where it’s quieter, more private. He’s different. No makeup. No act. Just Zenitsu. He won’t look at you at first. “You came.” A pause. “I—I need to tell you something, and you’re probably gonna hate me after, and I deserve it, I really do, I’m the worst—” He stops himself, taking a breath like he’s trying not to spiral.

“I’m not...who you think I am.” A beat. He finally looks up at you.

“I’m not a girl.” The words hang in the air. “That day—I just...didn’t take it off. The makeup. The disguise. And then you—” He gestures awkwardly toward you. “You talked to me. Like it was normal. Like I was...worth talking to.” A pause. “And I didn’t want that to stop.” He clenches his hands slightly, nerves getting the better of him. “So I lied. I kept lying. And I know that’s messed up, I know it is—” His voice cracks slightly, but he keeps going. “But...what I felt wasn’t a lie.” A long pause. He looks at you—really looks this time. “So I just wanted to ask...” A breath. “Now that you know—everything...” His voice drops, almost afraid of the answer. “do you still want to stay with me?” The night is quiet around you. For once—He doesn’t ramble. Doesn’t run. He just waits.

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the training grounds as another brutal day of training finally came to an end. For hours, Tengen Uzui had pushed his student through relentless drills. Sword forms. Footwork. Reaction training. More sword forms. Then even more sword forms. By the end of it, even the crows seemed exhausted from watching. Tengen, meanwhile, looked as energetic as ever. “Not bad!” he announced proudly. “You’re still not flashy enough, but at least you’re no longer embarrassing me.” He laughed loudly at his own joke. After tossing a towel over his shoulder, the Sound Hashira gestured toward the mansion. “Come on. I’ve got something special prepared.” His grin immediately raised concerns. Whenever Tengen described something as special, it usually meant someone else was about to suffer.

The two of you made your way inside. The moment the door slid open, Tengen’s grin somehow widened. There, sitting awkwardly on a cushion in the middle of the room, was Zenitsu Agatsuma. He looked absolutely miserable. His blond hair had been styled into two small buns tied with bright red ribbons. Makeup had been applied to his face, giving his cheeks a rosy appearance. His expression suggested he was currently reconsidering every decision that had led him to this moment. The second he noticed someone entering the room, he froze. Then he spotted Tengen. Then he spotted you. Then he immediately covered his face. “NO.” Tengen laughed. Zenitsu pointed accusingly. “Don’t laugh!” “I can’t help it,” Tengen replied. “This is incredibly flashy.” “It is NOT flashy!” “It is.” “It isn’t!” “It absolutely is.” Zenitsu groaned loudly and buried his face in his hands. “I hate it here.”

Tengen stepped farther into the room. “Stand up.” “What?” “Stand up.” “No.” “Stand up.” “I’m not standing up.” “Stand up.” Defeated already, Zenitsu slowly rose to his feet. Tengen circled him thoughtfully. “Hmm.” Zenitsu immediately looked nervous. “What?” “Hmmmm.” “What does that mean?!” Tengen continued examining him. “HMMMMM.” “STOP DOING THAT!” The Sound Hashira crossed his arms. “You’ve gotten a little softer.” Zenitsu blinked. “What?” “A little rounder.” “What?!” “A little fluffier.” “I DON’T KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS!” Tengen pointed dramatically to his huge cellulite thighs hanging out of his kimono.* “You look like a pampered sow.” Silence. Complete silence. Zenitsu stared. The room stared. Even Tengen seemed proud of the statement. Then— “WHAT?!” Zenitsu nearly launched himself into the ceiling. “A SOW?!” Tengen nodded. “A flashy sow.” “I’M NOT A SOW!” “You’ve been spending too much time sitting around.” “I FIGHT DEMONS FOR A LIVING!” “You also spend a lot of time screaming.” “THAT BURNS CALORIES!”

Tengen laughed. Zenitsu looked horrified. His hands slowly moved to his sides. Then to his stomach. Then to his fat ass. Then back again. For a brief moment, his expression changed. The shouting disappeared. The complaints vanished. A terrible realization entered his mind. Wait. Have I actually gotten bigger? His eyes widened. No. No, that’s impossible. Right? He glanced downward. Do my clothes feel tighter? Another glance. Why didn’t I notice? Panic began spreading across his face. What if he’s right?! His imagination immediately betrayed him. What if everyone noticed except me?! What if Inosuke noticed?! That thought alone nearly gave him a heart attack. He’d never stop making fun of me! Zenitsu quickly sucked in his stomach. Then sucked it in harder. Then even harder. Tengen watched the entire process. “See?” “SEE WHAT?!” “The panic.” “YOU CALLED ME A SOW!” “You reacted exactly how I expected.” Zenitsu pointed dramatically. “YOU CAN’T JUST SAY THINGS LIKE THAT!” “I literally just did.” Zenitsu looked seconds away from collapsing. Eventually he dropped back onto the cushion. “I hate this family.”

Tengen laughed so hard he nearly doubled over. Several moments later, he finally regained his composure. “Anyway.” The fact that he said anyway terrified Zenitsu. The blond immediately looked suspicious. “What do you mean anyway?” Tengen placed a hand on your shoulder. Zenitsu’s eyes narrowed. “No.” Tengen ignored him. “This student has been working hard.” “No.” “They’ve been stressed.” “No.” “They deserve a break.” “No.” “They deserve entertainment.” “NO.” Tengen pointed directly at Zenitsu. Zenitsu gasped. “No.” “I’m assigning you to them.” “NO!” “Your mission is simple.” “TENGEN-SAN!” “Relieve stress.” Zenitsu looked like he had just received a death sentence. “I DON’T KNOW HOW TO RELIEVE STRESS!” Tengen shrugged. “Figure it out.” “I’M NOT A THERAPIST!” “You’re loud.” “THAT’S NOT A SKILL!” “You’re entertaining.” “I’M ANXIOUS!” “Same thing.” Zenitsu groaned so loudly it echoed through the room. Then he immediately tried another strategy. He slowly stood. Carefully backed toward the door. And began inching away. “Nope.” Another step. “Nope.” Another step. “Nope.” His hand reached the door. Hope filled his eyes. Then Tengen slid the door open. Zenitsu smiled. Then Tengen stepped through it. Zenitsu’s smile disappeared. “Tengen-san?” The Sound Hashira looked back. “Have fun.”

“Tengen-san.” “Pull off a flashy performance.” “Tengen-san.” “Make some memories.” “Tengen-san.” Then the door slid shut. The sound of his footsteps faded down the hallway. Silence followed. Zenitsu stared at the door. “...” More silence. “...” Even more silence. “He left.” Nobody answered. “HE ACTUALLY LEFT.” Zenitsu rushed to the door. Opened it. Looked both ways. Empty hallway. He slowly closed it again. Then leaned against it. Defeated. Utterly defeated. “Treason.” He pointed toward the hallway. “That was treason.” After another dramatic sigh, Zenitsu shuffled back toward the center of the room and sat down. The ribbons in his hair bounced slightly as he moved. He noticed. Immediately grabbed them. And groaned.

“I still can’t believe he made me wear these.” Zenitsu tugged at one of the red ribbons. “Do you know how long he spent trying to fix my hair?” He answered his own question. “Forty minutes.” Another sigh. “FORTY.” He stared at the floor. “At one point he brought in three different ribbons.” A pause. “He voted on them.” Another pause. “By himself.” Zenitsu slowly lowered his head. “I’ve made so many mistakes in life.” For a while, the room became peaceful. No demons. No training. No battles. No screaming. Well...Less screaming. Zenitsu eventually glanced over. His shoulders relaxed slightly. The panic from earlier had mostly faded. The embarrassment remained. But at least it wasn’t life-threatening embarrassment. “Well...” He then stands up and walks towards you, nervously fiddling with his fingers. Once he finds his position and begins to untie his kimono. “Since we’re gonna be stuck here for a while...” As his kimono slips further and further off, his curves begin to show. His large plump thighs, his huge cellulite ass, and his plump belly. Once fully naked, he takes another step towards you. “Tell me...do you think I’m a sow?” His hands finding your shoulders, he takes a shuddering breath as he leans on you. “Please, be honest with me. You can touch me too if you want.” “If you do think I’m a sow, do you like me this way? Am I still fuckable as a sow?” In his head: Am I seriously getting turned on by this? Do I really have a fat shaming kink?!”