The Days That Must Happen

ARC II-ACT VI

With a hand cupping your chin and your brows knitted tightly together, you stared at the Rengoku sitting across from you as he finished explaining his 'situation'.

An awfully awkward silence then fell between the four of you, tense and uncertain. It made Tanjiro shift in his seat.

Before you spoke you had tried to be level headed, hearing them out and being open minded with everything - after all for all you knew they could be getting chased by serial killers that they referred to as 'clones'. But the longer they explained, the more you begin to understand Hana when she called anime fans weird.

"So... you're telling me." You chuckled humourlessly, sighing at the three. "You're all real, from my book, and suddenly found yourselves here in a bathroom stall and need my help getting back."

"Precisely!" Rengoku cheered, crossing his arms and laughing as if he had just won the lottery. "Now that we're all on the same page, what can we-"

"Are you guys roleplaying or something?"

"Hm?"

"Well, my manager had told me beforehand that cosplayers sometimes like to act as if they're really the character they're cosplaying. Is that what's going on here?"

Tanjiro begun to shake his head frantically, so violently you were afraid it would fly off his neck. "No! No, no, no! What we're saying is true-!"

"Fictional characters of my fictional book coming to visit me from a random bathroom stall at a random convention." You nodded to him, resting your head on the palm of your hand lazily. "Sounds very true to me."

And albeit your obvious mean sarcasm, what Tanjiro and Rengoku could only focus on was your use of 'fictional'.

Rengoku was the first to speak. "Fictional?"

You nodded, pulling your lips into a confused pout. "Yeah? Did you think the Taishō period really had demons?"

"But... we do."

"We didn't." You shook your head. "Please guys, I'm not playing around anymore. To be fully honest, I'm actually getting quite anno-"

"I thought your book was a history book." Tanjiro furrowed his brows. By now Nezuko had sat up beside him, both cosplayers staring at you with wide worrisome eyes.

The longer you stared... "no." You shook your head. "No, my book was always a fictional book."

"Don't say that!"

It seemed as if their breaking point was near - for whatever it seems to have worked them all up so much. You jumped at his tone, watching as he stood to his feet and stared at you with watering eyes.

Rengoku stood too but did little to hold him back as the words kept on spilling from the boys' lips. "You keep on saying it's a fictional story but it's not! My story is not fictional! My family is not fictional! We are not fictional!" He cried.

His fists shook by his side, knuckles turning white. This was the moment Nezuko shot to her feet, hugging Tanjiro's torso as if to help, but it did not ease the boy.

Your eyes were wide as saucers as he spilled his pain onto you. "How can pain so intense be fictional?! Do not ever disregard the stories of those who have suffered to greatly to call them fictional!"

And then he stopped, sniffing and hiccuping, but still trying so desperately to hold back from letting his tears spill. Rengoku laid a warm hand atop his shoulder, still frozen from both the sudden outburst and processing that perhaps he himself is just a drawing. But that could not be, it just couldn't.