idea if that's okay of tanjiro being the reason why Sanemi loves Ohagi and he especially loves Tanjiro's Ohagi
Thank you for sending this request! You are the first one to send a request for our work-in-progress side stories and I deliver (≧◡≦)
I hope you enjoy! I left a little treat at the end ;)
⤷ 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐓𝐨𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰: 𝐒𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 ☆
⤷ ゛Divider creditsˎˊ˗
leaf divider - strangergraphics
green line divider - uzmacchiato
𝙰 𝚃𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚃𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 [𝚂𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚣𝚞𝚐𝚊𝚠𝚊 𝚂𝚊𝚗𝚎𝚖𝚒]
Sanemi never grew up with the luxury of sweets. As one of seven children, his mother could barely keep food on the table and a roof over their heads. He would never dare ask for something as indulgent as candy.
But for the younger ones, it was different. They were curious, as children often are. They wondered about sweets — rock candies, stretchy sugary bites sold by vendors along the roadside. Eventually, they wanted them. Yet even at their age, they understood the difference between needs and wants better than many adults Sanemi had ever known.
So they would just walk by, hands clenched tightly together, promising to buy sweets when life got better. Sanemi believed that as long as he was alive, he could make anything possible for his younger siblings.
They had no one else to rely on but him, and he had no one to rely on but himself. That is until Tanjiro came into their lives. Tanjiro came barreling into their world like someone swooping kittens off the road, saving them from the danger of incoming carriages.
Tanjiro came into their lives as if they were precious and worthy. He defended them, cared for them, and stayed by their side through hardship. He cared enough to know each of them individually: Genya’s obsession with swordsmanship, Teiko’s love of reading, Sumi’s hobbies in sewing and crafts, Hiroshi’s little stories, Shuya’s dislike of insects, Koto’s allergies, and Shizu’s favorite food.
It was to be expected. They were open like a book. They shared their wants and dislikes freely because of Tanjiro. And Tanjiro, ever amazing and kind, made sure each of them was heard and supported.
He watched from the sidelines, happy that his family was finally being treated with the love and care they had long deserved. He didn’t even realize that he himself had no idea what he liked or disliked.
He had never been given the chance to enjoy the luxury of liking things. For him, it was enough to accept whatever came his way, so long as it kept everyone comfortable and happy. As long as his family was fed and smiling, he believed he could be the happiest man alive.
That’s why, when Tanjiro came, everything changed.
It was the start of spring and Tanjiro made Ohagi.
The streets bustled with villagers preparing their land for crops, erasing the last traces of the harsh winter. The thick snow and barren trees were gone, replaced by pollen-filled air and lively festivals that welcomed spring.
From the kitchen window, Tanjiro gazed outside with a smile. Time had flown, and spring had arrived. It was the start of a new season, a new opportunity, and a new life. Sanemi hoped this year would be kinder to his family and to himself.
Behind the screen door, Sanemi quietly watched Tanjiro humming as he worked in the kitchen. His chest filled with warmth at the sight. Even someone as strong as Tanjiro could be so blissfully unaware, his senses failing to notice Sanemi’s presence. Yet that very obliviousness reassured Sanemi. Tanjiro felt safe here. The thought made his stomach flutter.
Another month with Tanjiro, and Sanemi wished he could stay forever. Even though Tanjiro had been honest from the start that one day he would have to leave, Sanemi still hoped that day would never come. Months have passed, and Tanjiro is still here. Sanemi wanted to believe he had changed his mind.
Stepping out from behind the screen door, Sanemi approached him. Tanjiro perked up, smiling warmly, dressed in his mother’s kappōgi that looked far too small on him. Sanemi stifled a laugh.
“Mom’s kappōgi looks short on you, Tanjiro-san. You should buy one your size.” he teased, smiling with crinkled eyes as he walked closer.
Tanjiro chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his head. “It keeps slipping off my mind. Maybe I should sew one for myself.” he admitted sheepishly. Sanemi made a mental note to sew one for him. His skills weren’t as good as Tanjiro’s, but he had learned enough from making clothes for his siblings and teaching Sumi how to sew.
Sanemi’s gaze fell on the dish Tanjiro was working on. “What are you making, Tanjiro-san?” he asked.
Tanjiro’s smile brightened as he turned back to resume what he had been doing. A bowl of red bean paste sat on the counter as he tended to the rice cooking gently over the fire.
“It’s a secret, but I know you’ll like it,” Tanjiro said, pressing a finger to his lips in a shushing gesture and winking at Sanemi.
Sanemi blinked, frowning in suspicion. He trusted Tanjiro, but months of living together had taught him that the man loved experimenting with recipes and sometimes ended up with disastrous results.
He still remembered when they discovered Koto’s allergy to angelica sprouts the hard way, leaving Tanjiro guilt-ridden.
Seeing the doubt in Sanemi’s eyes, Tanjiro giggled and reached out to pat his head. “I swear, no more angelica sprout dishes. I promise.”
Sanemi finally nodded, reassured.
“What a good boy,” Tanjiro cooed, squishing Sanemi’s cheeks. Sanemi bristled like a cat, grabbing Tanjiro’s wrists to push them away. “Don’t treat me like a child!” he hissed.
Tanjiro laughed softly, releasing him before turning back to the counter. He picked up a few plates and handed them over. “Can you help me set the table while I finish up here?”
Recovering from his embarrassment, Sanemi nodded quickly and began arranging the plates and bowls. His eyes wandered over the dishes laid out perfectly on their table. There are more dishes than usual. Tanjiro had prepared a variety this time, not just the two simple dishes they usually shared.
‘What’s the occasion? Is it his birthday?’ Sanemi thought frantically, before remembering Tanjiro’s birthday was still months away. He decided he would ask later.
“Genya!” Sanemi called from inside, hearing the distinct sounds of children playing behind the house. A few seconds later, quick footsteps pattered towards the open window.
Genya appeared, sweaty and flushed from play. Sanemi huffed at the sight, grabbed the cloth from his shoulder, and wiped Genya’s face roughly. Genya bristled and hissed, while Sanemi chuckled smugly at his antics.
“Nemi!” Genya cried, pouting.
“Look at you, all sweaty and smelling like the sun. Lunch will be ready soon. Go get the others so Tanjiro-san doesn’t have to wait.” Sanemi chided gently.
At the mention of Tanjiro, Genya perked up, nodded brightly, and dashed off to gather the children.
Smiling at Genya’s disappearing figure, Sanemi returned to the kitchen. Tanjiro was standing at the counter, rolling something in his hands. Sanemi leaned closer and saw balls of glutinous rice beside a plate, each coated with red bean paste.
“Are you making sweets?” Sanemi asked eagerly.
“That’s right.” Tanjiro replied with a nod. “I’m making ohagi — also called botamochi.” He finished one and picked up another ball of rice to coat in paste.
“Ohagi?” Sanemi repeated curiously.
Tanjiro explained, “It’s a sweet that locals eat during autumn and spring. It consists of cooked glutinous rice, then coated in sweet red bean paste.” He pointed to the bowl of paste he had prepared earlier.
Sanemi’s eyes sparkled. He had never tasted sweets made with red bean paste — it was usually too expensive.
Tanjiro giggled at Sanemi’s wide-eyed wonder and picked one from the finished batch. He carefully wrapped it in dried bamboo skin and handed it over to Sanemi.
Sanemi stared at the ohagi for a moment, then accepted it with both hands. He glanced at Tanjiro, who nodded encouragingly, and unwrapped it. He took a tentative bite.
The rich flavor of red bean paste burst across his tongue. The glutinous rice was sticky but soft, not overly sweet and it was melting on his tongue with every chew.
Tanjiro watched as Sanemi devoured the rest, licking his fingers with twinkling eyes and cheeks flushed from smiling.
“That’s so delicious! I never knew red bean paste could taste this good in a sweet! Even the rice isn’t bland, it's sweet too!” Sanemi exclaimed, making Tanjiro grin.
“I’m glad you like it! One day I’ll teach you how to make it, okay?” Tanjiro said, raising a finger to his lips as if sharing a secret.
Sanemi grinned back, copying the shushing motion, as though they were guarding a recipe passed down for centuries.
Watching Tanjiro work, he couldn’t help but wonder how he had managed to get the paste, and a flicker of worry crossed his mind.
Tanjiro noticed Sanemi’s worry and flicked his scrunched nose playfully. “Don’t worry. Big brother took on a few manual labor jobs and saved up for this. I want you all to enjoy it. Spring has finally come after all.” he said, smiling warmly.
Sanemi rubbed his nose, his face red, catching the faint scent of red bean paste from Tanjiro’s finger. “Why spring specifically?” he asked. If Tanjiro wanted them to enjoy sweets, they could have eaten them anytime.
Tanjiro hummed softly, still smiling as he worked. “You see, ohagi is offered to honor ancestors and pray for a good harvest. Since spring marks the start of another year, I want to welcome luck, health, and opportunities for Shizu-san and her children.”
Sanemi’s eyes widened at the declaration, his heart swelling with warmth he couldn’t put into words.
Tanjiro finally looked at him, wiping his hands clean before patting Sanemi’s head, softly. “They’re such kind, talented and wonderful children. I want to see them happy, smiling brightly as they care for each other. And when they grow up, they’ll follow their dreams, build families of their own, and cherish them just as much.”
“You included, Sanemi.” Tanjiro poked his forehead gently with his two fingers.
Sanemi’s eyes glistened at Tanjiro’s heartfelt words towards his family. Even after months together, he still couldn’t fathom how someone like Tanjiro had come into their lives.
Perhaps the gods truly existed and had taken pity on them, blessing them with someone they could cherish and who cherished them in return.
He gasped when Tanjiro cradled his face, gently wiping it with a towel, smiling warmly. “That’s why all you need to do is eat well, stay healthy, and grow stronger. That way, you can protect the people you love.” Tanjiro said, content as he cleaned away the flour and red bean paste.
Then, sheepishly rubbing his head, he added, “I got paste and flour on your face—sorry!” But Sanemi didn’t care.
He didn’t mind Tanjiro’s messes in the kitchen, his recipe experiments, or whatever tasks he asked of him. He would gladly do them all, and forgive him every time. Face burning, Sanemi glanced back at Tanjiro with a soft smile, eyes crinkling. Summoning his courage, he grabbed Tanjiro’s hands.
“I’ll do what you say. I’ll grow strong so you won’t have to worry. You won’t need to take escort jobs anymore as a swordsman. I’ll work, and you can rest here with my family.” he declared seriously.
Tanjiro blinked, then chuckled, ruffling Sanemi’s hair and pinching his cheeks. “Uwahh, Sanemi is very dependable, isn’t he? Big brother will look forward to that. But until then, you must take care of yourself and stay healthy, okay?”
Sanemi huffed indignantly, letting Tanjiro ruffle his hair and pinch his cheeks like a child. But he wasn’t a child anymore. He was serious — and he would keep his promise. For Tanjiro. For now, though, he would let Tanjiro do as he pleased.
Oh, how he misses Tanjiro’s Ohagi.
He didn’t even get to learn how to make it.
