Chapter Text
2:50 AM, Shinsou Hitoshi’s Dorm Room
A ravenous groan from his stomach stirred him awake. His drowsy eyes had dark circles underneath them, which he tried several times to open properly. Then he blinked a dozen times more for his eyes to adjust to the thick darkness cloaking his room. Shinsou Hitoshi was fully awake, starving from hunger.
It was almost 3:00 AM in the morning. Why the hell is he so hungry? Was it because the only things he’d consumed for the past three days were bread and Fanta? Was his irresponsibility in taking care of himself finally catching up to him? Well, it sure as hell wasn't going anywhere, nor was his hunger.
Shinsou thought for a moment. This late into the night, there probably wasn’t anyone awake anymore, aside from him. He could get up and go make himself a bowl of steaming hot udon in the shared kitchen. Last time they went out to get groceries, he saw Shoto toss a bunch of instant noodles packets into the shopping cart, all different varieties and types of noodles, so he was pretty sure they had udon. Grunting, Shinsou slowly slid off of his bed and stood up straight with immense effort.
His room was entirely dark; not a single source of light was inside, but he managed to stumble his way out of it. Shinsou opened the door slowly, making sure that it wouldn’t creak and wake anyone else, and stepped out of his room. He took three steps out of it and could sense that something was wrong.
Someone was in the shared communal space of their dormitory. Shinsou couldn’t tell exactly who it was, but there was definitely someone there.
Were they his classmates? They couldn’t be; none of the other 1A students were calm enough to be this silent. Were they intruders, then? Or could they possibly be members of the League?
Shinsou gulped. He remembered the USJ infiltration. At that time, they teleported him far away from the scene. He never went up against one of the core members of the League. but his classmates have. And he remembered the visceral fear that he experienced during the battle at Kamino Ward . What if there really were League members here?
Shinsou made it to the edge of the archway, separating the communal area from the dorm rooms' area, and slowly peeked into the common room. In the enveloping darkness, he could make out three figures sleeping on the sofas. Internally, he let out a breath of relief. Not members of the League then.
So if the people in the living room weren’t Villains, then who were they, Shinsou thought. He jumped when the large oak box on the ground suddenly shook out of nowhere, and he almost fell down onto the floor out of shock when a small, toddler-sized girl crawled out of it.
He assumed the girl had an age-altering quirk, probably because he saw her grow into a full-sized teenager seconds after she got out of the box. Shinsou witnessed as she proceeded over to a nearby couch where one of the figures was sleeping and watched the figure sleep.
Shinsou was thinking of walking over to check out who they were when the strange girl actually turned back and looked at him directly. This room was as dark as his, so initially, Shinsou was quite sure that the girl couldn’t actually see him. But there was a sort of glint in her distant, glowing pink eyes that made him suspect she did. The strange girl confirmed his suspicions when she began walking towards him.
Instinctually, Shinsou backed away immediately when she approached, but the girl pounced on him and tackled him to the ground the moment he took a step back. He watched in horror as the girl’s pupils became slits of gramma purple and her size grew even larger to keep him down on the floor.
- What the hell?! Get off of me, you Villain!
- Grr…
Shinsou yelled loudly as the girl started drooling and growling, although the growls weren’t very audible as she was wearing a bamboo muzzle that Shinsou only just noticed. The girl only grew a few sizes (or ages) bigger, but the strength and force that she was using to pin him onto the floor were astounding. He could barely move his arms or legs.
- Nezuko! Stop!!
- Wha-?
- Control yourself, Nezuko! Control your instincts!
An unfamiliar, rough voice from behind the struggling Shinsou yelled as he strained his neck to look at who it was. And when Shinsou saw who it was, he was shocked enough that he forgot about the animalistic girl pinning him to the floor for a moment. It was the sleeping figure that this girl watched sleep. The unfamiliar boy ran towards the two of them, holding a sheathed... katana?!
The katana was quite unnecessary, for as soon as Nezuko heard her brother’s call, her grip on Shinsou loosened, and she immediately turned around to look at him, her pupils returning to their original circular shape. In an instant, she returned from her aggressive, battle-ready form, and changed back into her docile, childlike nature. Letting go of the stranger that was looking at her in the dark, Nezuko stood up and ran into her brother’s arms.
- Eh? You didn’t… you didn’t turn into that thing? Goodgirl, girl Nezuko! Good girl!
Surprised and delighted that his lovely little demon sister hasn’t gone feral yet, a gleeful Tanjiro smiled brightly and began to pet and praise his little sister for controlling herself in front of a human. Between the head pats and praises, the Kamadou sibling completely ignored the shaken Shinsou on the floor, clambering and sitting up to take a proper fearful look at them.
- You! Who are you two? What the hell are you doing here? Are you two Villains? Is that girl a Nomu or something?
Questions flew from Shinsou’s mouth, bombarding the perplexed siblings. Tanjiro looked at him, his mind swirling with thoughts of both confusion and realization. He was confused about what the messy-haired boy was saying, as the boy was using such peculiar terminologies, and he also realized that the boy was probably one of Ireiza’s students.
As Tanjiro was about to open his mouth and ask him what he meant by “Biransu” and "Nomu”, his entire body froze. He couldn’t move a single muscle. The only thing he could move were his eyes. He couldn’t move at all. Just like when he was back at that fallen train track.
Was this boy a Demon? Is this his Blood Demon Art? But Tanjiro couldn’t smell any blood on him! What was happening? He could smell that the boy was as confused and alarmed as he was right now.
Realizing that he had put the strangers (?) under his brainwashing Quirk, an anxious Shinsou flicked the boy’s forehead in an attempt to free him from his spell. Shockingly, although the boy did get freed from his Quirk, his forehead was so fucking hard that Shinsou thought he fractured a finger joint.
- Argh, damnit! Why the hell’s your forehead so fucking hard?
- Ah, sorry if I hurt your finger!
- Nevermind that now.
- Ah, okay…
- …
- …
A moment of awkward silence started as the two boys became dumbfounded, not knowing what to say to the other one now. Tanjiro was confused by Shinsou’s weird terms and powers, apologetic for hurting his finger, and puzzled at why Nezuko attacked him. Shinsou was confused by Tanjiro, Nezuko, and the two other sleeping strangers' appearances and a bit shocked at Tanjiro’s hard forehead, and Nezuko’s… entire existence itself.
After a while, Shinsou finally decided to break the ongoing silence:
- So, who exactly are you?
- Ah, my name is Kamado Tanjiro! I’m a Demon Slayer from the Demon Slayer Corps. Nice to meet you!
Glad that Shinsou spoke first, Tanjiro smiled cheerfully and slightly bowed down to greet him. Needless to say, Tanjiro’s overformality shocked the other boy.
- Woah, what are you bowing down to me for?
- Ah, sorry.
- I’m Shinsou Hitoshi. My Quirk is Brainwashing. That’s the reason why you froze up back there. Sorry for that.
Oh, boy, here we go again with the weird terminology, thought a once again bewildered Tanjiro nervously.
- Eh? What’s a "Kosei"? Sorry, but can you say that again, please?
Now, Shinsou was the one bewildered by Tanjiro’s words.
- What do you mean by “what’s a Quirk”? Don’t you know what it is?
- Um, am I supposed to?
- Yeah, you’re supposed to! My god, were you born in a backwater village or something?
- Actually, I was...
The silence between them continued, and as he stared down at the floor awkwardly, Tanjiro pondered the reason why he was here with this strangely dressed boy. It was obviously the Demon’s Blood Art, but what exactly did it do? Did it transport him somewhere else? If so, how far and how can they break it?
Tanjiro racked his brain, trying to remember every detail of it’s Blood Art. The moment before the branches whisked them away to this place, he could hear it say something, but he didn’t really pay attention, as he was busy trying to slice the flowers off, so he couldn’t quite remember what it was. But he did remember Zenitsu mentioning it when they had just arrived here. Even then, Zenitsu and Inosuke were screaming and yelling so much that he could barely hear them at all.
A brooding Tanjiro sat, using all of his brain power to recall what his friend said, so did the messy, purple-haired boy sitting across from him. Shinsou was also wondering about the true identity of this crimson-haired boy and his intentions.
When Shinsou came out of his dorm room at 3 fucking AM in the morning, he was expecting a steamy, hot bowl of Udon with chewy noodle strings and thick, tasty broth, not whatever the hell this is. When Shinsou crept out of his room in the dead of night, he was expecting to have to face down a villainous intruder, not a seemingly multi-Quirked and animalistic girl taking a nap on her oddly-dressed, isolated from Quirk Society and probably hard-of-hearing brother’s lap.
Also, what on Earth was the Demon Slayer Corps? Shinsou sure as hell never heard of a company like that. Last week, Aizawa-sensei made them read up a bunch of different Hero agencies, to find out which one was the most suitable for them in the future, and to learn about their reputation and how their employees were treated, blah blah blah stuff like that. And he was pretty sure he didn’t read about any agency named the Demon Slayer Corps! But what agency would even hire a school age kid that didn’t even know what Quirks were in the first place?
Suddenly, strings of words and information began to align themselves in his head.
Backwater village.
Isolated from Quirk Society.
Katana.
Demon Slayer .
Ah, shit.
Shinsou thought for a moment about a possibility. The boy sitting before him, Kamado Tanjiro (that’s what he said his name was), could probably be a cult member. It was extremely rare in this day and age to see someone going around with a katana strapped onto their belt, not knowing what Quirks were, and introducing themselves as a Demon Slayer.
A cult. Like all the odd things about this Kamado boy that he listed up there, it didn’t seem possible in this day and age. It sounds completely out of the blue, super unrealistic; but at the same time, it’s not like the possibility wasn’t there. Maybe, that’s the reason why the boy was inside the U.A. dormitories during this godless time of the night. Possibly, to exterminate the most powerful festering “Demons” in the country, just like his little cult told him to.
Shinsou sat on the floor, staring at Tanjiro with a growing alarmedness; Tanjiro was still scrubbing his chin and trying to remember the name of the Demon’s Blood Art.
He was so close to figuring it out. He knew that it had the word “Transportation” at the end of it, but he can’t seem to figure out the word that came first. The Demon could have transported him anywhere, but the importance is in what aspect. Was Tanjiro in another place? Another time? Another realm?
The boy in front of Tanjiro began to emanate a scent of suspicion and alertness. Oh, right! He almost forgot about him! His name was Shinsou Hitoshi wasn’t it? Tanjiro could just ask the boy about his whereabouts and whenabouts!
- Um, excuse me… but Shinsou-san, can I ask you something?
With the unexpected call from the crimson-haired boy, Shinsou jerked his head up at his words, looking at him warily. What could this possibly-cult-member boy be asking him for? His answer as nervous and uncertain as his mind, Shinsou replied:
- Of course, uh, Kamado-san…
Shinsou most definitely did not expect the next question that came from the Kamado boy’s mouth.
- Where is this place, exactly?
Like, if he was a cult member, he could’ve asked Shinsou if there were more of his classmates that were awake right now? Or maybe, something related to their sketchy cultish plans. Anything really, anything except for this?
- We’re in Musutafu, Shizuoka Prefecture… But nevermind that, how can you be here without knowing where you are in the first place?!
- That’s what I’m trying to find out too… As far as I know we just showed up here… I haven’t heard of the Shizuoka Prefecture though, which part of Japan is it in?
A frustrated and confused Shinsou yells, digging his nails into his scalp and messy hair, disheveling it even further in his inability to understand his current situation:
- What do you mean, you don’t know how you got here? You’re here !
- A Demon teleported me here. I just don’t know if she teleported me somewhere else or sometime else…
Again with the “Demons”? Really?
- When you said Demon, you meant someone with a Quirk, right?
A brief, somber smile dashed across Tanjiro’s face for a second. It’s true that most of the public rarely knew about or believed in the existence of Demons: beings who can easily massacre your loved ones with ease. In fact, it’s the main factor as to why Demon Slayers who put their life on the line everyday, fighting and protecting humanity from Demons, aren’t even allowed to wear their katanas into the streets with pride. His face straightened as he told Shinsou the following words, like an older brother explaining to his little sibling why he shouldn’t go out at night:
- You may not know this, Shinsou-san. But a Demon is a Demon. It’s not just a strange, quirky human. It’s a being that had left behind its mortality and humanity in exchange for powerful abilities.
Yeah, sounds exactly like how an anti-Quirk cult would describe it. Shinsou could barely believe his eyes or ears right now, to be honest. He could barely believe how such an innocent-looking boy like this one could be a brutal, murdering cult member. The boy spoke with utter confidence and belief in his ideals, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
Still, if he really was a cult member, then why is this boy still displaying such a friendly attitude towards Shinsou, even after he admitted to having a Quirk? And, there was a little something about his demeanors and actions that reminded Shinsou too much of his viridian-haired classmate, Midoriya Izuku. That little something was holding Shinsou back from fully committing to his verdict of this Kamado boy being a cult member.
- As I thought, I couldn’t recall anywhere in Japan called the Shizuoka Prefecture. May I ask what year is it then？
If there wasn’t anywhere in Japan called Shizuoka, then maybe Tanjirou and his friends were still in the same place, but were only transported temporally. If that was the case, then all he has to do is ask what year they were in, and the matter of his location could be easily answered.
- I - uh what? You don’t know? It’s 2123.
2123?! Oh God, that’s… two centuries in the future! How could a Demon’s Blood Art possibly be that powerful and effective? To think there was a Demon this powerful wandering around freely near villages, the thought sent shivers up Tanjirou’s spine.
It also explained the strange terminologies and tongue in which Shinsou was speaking. They were both speaking Japanese, but his Japanese seemed to have a strange accent.
- Why? I mean- how can you not know that we’re in 2123?
As Shinsou cut off his train of thought, Tanjiro looked up at him. Should he really tell the boy that he was from a century ago? It certainly would make him panic even more than he is right now, as Tanjiro can smell. But, if he did tell Shinsou the truth, then the smell of suspicion from Shinsou would vanish as well as any future misunderstandings. All in all, telling Shinsou the truth of his origins would be better than clamming his mouth shut right now.
- Please don’t be frightened or off put by this, Shinsou-san. But me, Nezuko, and my two other friends over there… We’re not from this time period.
- The fuck do you mean you’re not from this time period? When are you even from, anyway?
With a grimace, Tanjiro replied hesitantly:
- I'm from the Taisho Era, more precisely, 1923.
- Y-you mean, the Taisho Era? My God, that’s two entire fucking-
- Centuries away.