The Days That Must Happen

ARC III-ACT I

Opening the door to your apartment, the familiar stench of old trash bags yet unchanged and empty five minute noodle cups slapped you in the face. An embarrassed flush covering your face.

"Uh... well come in I guess." You motioned to the group. Shinobu walked in first, her steps missing a beat as the stench reached her nose. A grimace ran past her but she recovered quickly and continued through.

"It's not much but... I guess it's enough for the time being. Please excuse the mess, I haven't had time to clean in months."

"Not to worry, I believe Uzui's estate is ten times worse than this. We'll survive." The short woman chuckled, earning an offended scoff from the man in question as she turned to him with a raised brow. "What? If it wasn't for your wives always cleaning up your mess, I'd compare the place to a pigpen."

That catches you by surprise, turning to the sound Hashira as he crosses his arms and looks away to asses the posters and pictures hanging on your walls - proof that before the darned series you had hobbies, interests, a life.

"Yeah but you didn't have to point it out in front of everyone."

"That's odd..." You hummed without thinking.

Shinobu turned to you and tilted her head. "What is?"

How could you explain to her that you never wrote Uzui to be a messy character? Sure he was spontaneous and unorganised unless it came to demons, but never straight up messy. So you didn't explain, shaking your head. "Nothin."

Sooner or later though, the conversation would have to come up, and it seemed Rengoku was angsty to get this over and done with as he spoke. "So about the author and our situation." He fleeted his eyes to you before looking away just as quickly.

"Right..." you sighed, catching on quickly to what he wanted to be over and done with. For a moment, you all stood in silence with only Tanjiro and Zenitsu trying to calm down a hyperactive Inosuke who vibrated with energy and want to explore. Mumbling about wanting to defeat the demon that was your elderly neighbours television.

"Well? We don't have all of eternity." Sanemi sneered, crossing his arms.

You nodded, motioning towards your sofa and pillows. "It's going to be cramped but perhaps it's best we sit down for this? It's not something simple to explain."

They did as told, some more hesitant than others. In the end Shinobu, Mitsuri, Obanai and Muichiro all sat squished together on the three seated couch - Rengoku sitting on one of the arm rests and Nezuko on the other. The rest found seats on the floor atop old raggedy cushions. Everyone except for Sanemi who stubbornly stood beside Rengoku.

You took a seat on the floor, leaning your back on the wall across from them. For a moment the setting felt surreal, the art and the artist staring the other down waiting for a voice of reason - an explanation from you for their misfortune and an answer from them as to how the world of the unreal could come to you.

"My name is not Gotouge." You started, unsure of where to start explaining how deep they were in. "My real name is y/n, I'm a full time mangaka living off of minimum wage."

Seeing them share curious glances, you explain further. "A mangaka is the author and artist of a graphic novel. A book told through drawings." Reaching up for the papers sitting on the table beside you, you show them the page on the top - the backstory of Douma.

Shinobu's eyes widen in recognition of the demon, but others just nod - so far understanding. "This." You shake the page. "This is my series; Demon Slayer, or better known as Kimetsu No Yaiba." Some eyes flash with curiosity, others recognition. All while Rengoku, Tanjiro and Nezuko can only close their eyes in dismay. "This is your story."

"Like a picture history book?" Mitsuri tilts her head with a smile. "I know the future would be different but not this different! I would have preferred picture history books a lot more than the text ones we have!" She turned to Shinobu with a wide smile, though that excitement died when she saw the pained expression her friend had.

You shook your head, hesitating but pushing through regardless. They'd eventually find out sooner or later, so why not now? Get things over and done with.

"My series is not a factual history book." Mitsuri turned back to you in almost slow motion, and you almost wished you could have taken a picture of how bright her eyes looked before the news came barreling down. "My series is a fictional story. You are all fictional characters that I had created, and written."

"What?" Uzui scoffed. One of his legs was folded up to his chest with his back leaning on the legs of the love pillar. "I mean no offence but how could you tell us we're fictional?"

Shinobu looked to him and rolled her eyes, much more irritated than before by the mere sight of the demon responsible for her sister's death. "Do you have any proof?"

You stilled. "What?"

"Proof. Do you have any proof that what you're saying is real."

"Well... well no..."

Sanemi scoffed, throwing his hands in the air. "Are we really listening to this bullshit?! They're just wasting our time!"

"Regardless whether what they're saying is true or not, they're putting a roof over our head." Obanai rolled his eyes.

"But..." Mitsuri furrowed her brows, turning back to you. "You can't be serious, right?"

"I'm telling the truth." You nodded. "To us at least, in this universe or reality or whatever, you're all fictional characters from a fictional story."

"Bullshit-!"

"It's true." Tanjiro cut Sanemi's swearing off with two simple words. "They're being honest, I can smell it."

Dear god, you prayed, may he not comment on your foul smelling apartment and undiscovered smells.

Sanemi, however, seemed as stubborn as ever. "Oh, of course the little traitor will team up with them! First a demon and now you want us to believe we aren't real?!"

"That's not what I'm saying!" Tanjiro argued back, for how could he ever believe the suffering his family and friends went through be the work of fiction? Pain so real could not be told through a picture book alone. "All I'm saying is this is their version of the truth!"

Having enough of that, Sanemi took a step closer to the boy. "Under the master's word it's prohibited to raise your blade against another member of the corps. But never did he say I couldn't beat some sense into you." He threatened.

Tensions flew to the air as pillars argued for the wind pillar to calm down, some pulling him back from the older Kamado. You sat unsure, unwilling to intervene in an issue you, truly, had no play in.

It wasn't until Himejima spoke that Sanemi finally backed off. "What Y/N and Kamado are saying is true."

"Himejima-san..." Mitsuri gasped, holding onto the fabric of Sanemi's haori.

He nodded in acknowledgement. Eyes streaming with tears and hands rubbing together to pray in the form of mutters. "It is true. To their knowledge, we are fictional characters. I can sense that they are being honest."

"Then... that means..." Mitsuri turned to look at you with wide eyes.

Shinobu finished her sentence, eyes on you. Though unlike Mitsuri's unsettled gaze, hers was narrowed and angry. "You created us."

Unable to do anything but gulp, you awaited for them to continue talking. For them to say anything that would soften the weight that now fell on your shoulders.

But Sanemi only laughed, void of humour and close to insanity. "Oh. You're in deep shit now."