The dinner table was lively, filled with the aroma of grilled fish, steamed rice, and warm miso soup. You sat beside Tanjiro and across from Inosuke, watching Nezuko nibble on her food delicately while Zenitsu rambled on between bites.

It was peaceful… until you looked over at Inosuke.

He had abandoned his chopsticks altogether—fistfuls of rice stuffed into his mouth, fish bones flying as he tore into the food like a wild animal. He hadn’t bowed before the meal. He was chewing loudly, mouth wide open, grinning with satisfaction like a proud beast.

Zenitsu nearly dropped his bowl. “Inosuke! You’re supposed to use chopsticks!”

“You think these twig-sticks are better than my hands?!” Inosuke barked, licking soy sauce off his fingers. “Food’s faster this way!”

You blinked. “Inosuke, that’s not… how it works.”

Tanjiro chuckled awkwardly. “He’s still learning. He wasn’t really raised around people, so—”

“I was raised by the best creatures ever! Boars don’t need manners!”

You sighed, wiping rice off your sleeve. “Well, starting tomorrow, you’re getting a lesson.”

⸻

*The Next Morning

Inosuke sat cross-legged in front of you like an unruly student forced into detention, pouting with his arms crossed.

“Lesson one,” you began, holding a pair of chopsticks. “These are not weapons. They’re for eating.”

He snatched them, gripping them like kunai. “So… like stabby-sticks?”

“No!” You guided his hands gently, adjusting his fingers into position. “Like this. It’s delicate. Graceful.”

He fumbled them, dropped one, and growled. “This is stupid.”

“It’s not stupid. It’s called manners.”

He grunted but didn’t move away when you leaned closer to demonstrate again.

“Also, before you eat, you say Itadakimasu. It’s respectful.”

Inosuke narrowed his eyes. “Do I have to bow too?”

This was going to take awhile…