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dudeandduchess · 4 years ago

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Kyōjurō x F!S/O: We and Us (Fluff, Time Travel AU, SFW Scenario)

Summary: (Y/n) takes a vacation to Japan with her best friend and prays to meet her soulmate, only fate gives her a mile instead of an inch and she meets Rengoku Kyōjurō— the Flame Hashira in the manga that she had been reading. Right before his last mission, no less, so it’s up to her to save him.

Note: This is a mix of an isekai, soulmate, and time travel AU. I’ll try to explain things as best as I can within the story, but please take everything at face value. But if y’all have questions, please let me know. Enjoy, bbys!

(Y/n) will be the usual, but (F/n) will stand for Friend’s Name.

Also, a HUGE thank you to Biz for helping me out so much with this. Like seriously. I’ve hit so many blunders with writing this one out.

Warning: Mild Angst with Happy Ending, Manga/Movie Spoilers, Language

Word Count: 11,007

***

It was the same dream again; the very same one that had kept on plaguing (Y/n) ever since she had landed in Tokyo with her best friend.

She had only ever seen the scene in the Kimetsu no Yaiba manga, but it all looked so vivid in her mind. Too vivid, in fact, that it had unsettled her enough to have her sitting up in the double bed in the hotel room, that she and (F/n) shared.

For the third night in a row, the dream— no, the nightmare— had managed to reduce her to tears again.

Maybe she was crazy for feeling so much for someone who wasn’t real, but she couldn’t help her reaction. When she had opened her eyes, her face was already wet with tears— and no matter how hard she tried to wipe them away, they wouldn’t cease falling.

And, for once, she wanted to wake (F/n) up so she could get one of her comforting hugs— but she didn’t want to put a damper on such a momentous vacation for them. After all, they had saved up so much money just to afford going to Tokyo in the first place.

She wouldn’t ruin the next day with something that would fade away into nothingness later on.

But she would be lying if she said that it didn’t hurt to watch Rengoku Kyōjurō die over and over again— even if it was only in her dreams.

All she could do, however, was lay back down and curl into a ball to clutch one of her pillows close to her chest; burrowing her face into the fresh-smelling linen and trying to will away the haunting images that kept playing in her mind.

Her heart felt like it was breaking a million times over, yet she couldn’t exactly explain why that was. So, she closed her eyes and started counting— if only to get her racing mind to calm down.

Thankfully, sleep finally caught up to her; albeit restless and unfulfilling.

‘Don’t worry about me dying here.’

***

“You seem really off today, is something wrong, (Y/n)?” (F/n) asked as she nudged her best friend with her elbow, sending the other woman jumping a little in surprise; as if she had been suddenly shaken from some deep and all-consuming thought.

In response, (Y/n) forced a smile on her face and shook her head. She really did feel so drained, especially with a constant heaviness weighing down on her shoulders. Especially when she had stepped onto the small tram that would lead them to Setagaya; it was as if her chest had gotten so tight at some unknown factor that plagued her every waking move.

Not even the pretty hydrangeas that lined either side of the tracks were enough to make her feel better. And it felt like such a waste to be there, as the hydrangeas were what she had wanted to see the most.

“I just had a really weird dream last night. It was of Kyō dying…” (Y/n) admitted with a slight huff of a laugh, trying to make light of the situation with some humor— but she couldn’t say anything more as she felt her best friend’s arms wrap around her tightly.

(Y/n) had to admit that it was a little surprising, but she wasn’t entirely opposed to it; as it felt so warm and comforting, especially with the light drizzle of rain outside making the world look dreary and cold.

And slowly, she found herself grinning as she tried to push (F/n) off; before bursting out into a tiny fit of giggles when the arms around her only got tighter.

“Okay, okay, I feel better now. You can let go of me.”

With a laugh, (F/n) stepped back and patted the top of (Y/n)’s head, making the latter curl her upper lip at how playfully condescending that was. But it did its job in taking her mind off of her nightmare, which was all that mattered.

And so, with much a brighter mood, (Y/n) looked out of the tram window and giddily waited for their stop— so she could get a feel of what Kyōjurō’s hometown would have been like. After all, the databook had mentioned him living in Setagaya; so it was ticking off two nocks in one move, with her hydrangea sightseeing, as well as touring Setagaya.

When they got to their station, both women wasted no time in walking to the nearby temple— Tsurumaki Jisso-in. It was a really quaint place, but it felt so tranquil to step into; as if they were being transported through time.

Every step that (Y/n) took, she could feel her emotions beginning to bubble to the surface— feeling so light and heavy at the same time, like some part of her was being welcomed back to the place.

But that wasn’t the most unsettling instance for her; that was when she was deep in prayer already— thanking the gods for bringing her to Japan with her best friend, and for giving her such good fortune up to that day.

After all, she knew that she was luckier than most for just having the opportunity to have a roof above her head and three (or more) meals a day. Let alone the fact that she could have saved up to afford a very expensive trip.

If that wasn’t worth thanking the gods for, then she didn’t know what was.

“All I’m asking for now… is someone to spend the rest of my life with. Someone who’s the other half of my soul…” She prayed under her breath, bowing her head even further as a sign of humility, before adding, “Someone who will love me wholeheartedly forever.”

Shivers raced up her spine as soon as she uttered her wish, with some unseen force beckoning her to look up. And when she gave in to the urge to do so, the sight of a blond waiting a few paces away from her— with his hand stretched out towards her— made her absolutely breathless.

The vision didn’t last more than a couple of seconds, but she was sure that she just saw Rengoku Kyōjurō in front of her.

“It can’t be. I’m going crazy,” The young woman whispered to herself; bowing down once more, before strolling off to the side to admire the little stone statues that dotted the vicinity.

However, the heavy feeling on her shoulders had returned along with a headache. So, she decided that a short stroll around the area would do her some good.

With one last look behind her— to see that (F/n) was still engrossed in whatever prayer she had— (Y/n) deigned to just send her a text to let her know that she was going for a walk before finally taking the first few steps to get her around the place.

She couldn’t even hear the buzz of the town around them. No horns, or car engines, or even the sound of people filled the gaps of silence between the short gusts of wind that rustled the leaves of the plants around her.

If she were to be honest, she would say that it was relaxing; enough for a nap, even.

But she couldn’t do that when she and (F/n) still had so many places to go for the rest of the day. And, figuring that she’d been gone for long enough, she circled back to the pagoda— where, lo and behold, her best friend was nowhere to be found.

“I told her to wait for me here, tsk,” She uttered under her breath, huffing a little as she tried to fight back the heaviness and the headache that were only getting worse. “(F/n), you dumbass.”

She must have circled the entire vicinity of the temple thrice already, but her best friend was still nowhere to be found. And, around the second time that she had gotten back to the pagoda, she had pulled her phone out to call her— only to curse under her breath when she saw that it was dead.

It wouldn’t have been a problem at all, since she had her backpack with her— but when she checked the contents of it, she didn’t find the power bank that she was sure that she had packed in there that morning.

So, she circled the area once more— getting more frustrated at the pseudo cat and mouse game that she assumed (F/n) was playing with her— until she decided to check outside the temple gates.

Only, she couldn’t quite believe her eyes when an entirely different scene greeted her.

Instead of the asphalt road that she had walked on earlier, there was only a dirt road; which had her chest tightening with panic. Because she couldn’t have been on one of those prank shows she always watched.

But that was the only answer that she was coming up with, as her eyes took in the sight of the busy road in front of her. People were even wearing much older clothes; as opposed to the jeans, button down, and ankle boots combo that she was wearing.

“No, I swear to everything holy… (F/n), if you signed me up for a prank…” She hissed under her breath, swallowing thickly as she frantically looked at all of the people who were going on about their day.

A few gazes were aimed at her, but no one dared to approach her. And it wasn’t like she could simply stroll up to someone and ask them what had happened to the road— because, as it was, she only knew the basics of basic Japanese.

She would sooner make a mistake and ask someone where a gong was, instead of where the road had gone.

It was also at that moment that she realized that she shouldn’t have goofed off while learning Japanese; instead of telling (F/n) that she sucks tiny dicks, she could have used that time to learn some more useful sentences.

Panic was steadily beginning to set in, causing tears to spring up in her eyes as she clutched her useless phone in one hand. She couldn’t even muster up the strength to move from where she stood— the need to cry getting stronger with every passing second.

(Y/n) swore that she would wring her best friend’s neck if all of that ended up as a really unfunny prank. But it seemed that it wasn’t a prank at all, as no one yelled ‘cut’ and not one camera person stepped out to capture the sight of her tears beginning to fall down her face.

Slowly, her panic began to really set in, as she gripped her phone even tighter in her hand— pushing herself to turn on her heel to march back into the temple and try to look for (F/n) in every shrub possible; only, the breath was knocked out of her when she ran smack dab into something.

Or rather, someone.

Red-tinted irises flickered down at the peculiar woman, lingering on her tear-stained face, before they took in the strange clothes that she was wearing.

The strange woman’s clothes weren’t what had the Flame Hashira’s curiosity piquing, however…

It was when her eyes widened with what seemed like fear and genuine shock, before she whispered, “Kyōjurō?”

All that, before promptly passing out— thankfully, in his arms. Otherwise, she would have suffered a painful bump to the head.

“Ani-ue? Do you know her?” Kyōjurō readjusted his hold on the woman in his arms, then looked down at his side to answer his brother with a smile.

“I don’t, Senjurō, but she knows me.”

“What are we going to do?”

“Take her home,” The Hashira’s answer sounded so simple, as if it didn’t have to do with taking a virtual stranger home— one that looked so weird, with a glossy and flat brick at her feet. Because really, his curiosity was extremely piqued; especially with how he felt his heart skip a beat when she mentioned his name.

He wanted to know why exactly that was, when he had never felt something so… unexplainably warm and pleasant in his entire life.

As if he had just begun to really live.

***

“Is she awake yet?” Kyōjurō asked as he slid the shoji open and poked his head inside the guest room. He had been training beforehand, but had practically breezed through the rest of his shadow sparring routines because his curiosity got the better of him.

All throughout the afternoon, he couldn’t quite get his mind off of the strange woman who was sleeping in his home; and it wasn’t even the fact that she knew him that baffled him.

It was how he felt so attached to her already— as if, by some invisible force, something tethered him to her.

And that was how he found himself padding through the house; pacing up and down the halls at first, weighing the merits of seeing her already— without washing all of the sweat off of him first— as opposed to just making a beeline for her room and checking up on her.

However, he went with the former choice: bathing first, before going to see her. After all, he wanted to make a good impression, and he couldn’t do that when he smelled like the sun and lots of sweat.

“Not yet, ani-ue,” Senjurō answered softly, sending his older brother a smile, before reaching up to feel the unknown woman’s forehead with the palm of his hand.

She didn’t have a fever, but she was still unconscious, which worried the younger Rengoku a lot. He may not have known her, but he was so naturally kindhearted that he didn’t want anyone getting hurt— especially when they were under his care.

Kyōjurō sighed quietly— more out of disappointment than anything else— as he padded into the room; closing the door behind him, as he let his gaze fall to the unconscious woman on the futon.

And that was when the foreign feeling of his stomach feeling so empty yet full at the same time— as his heart began to pound faster in his chest— fell on him. He barely even managed to restrain the urge to reach up and rub at the spot where his heart was.

Though, slowly, he walked towards her and sat down next to where his brother sat— not once looking at anywhere but her and her sleeping face.

Kyōjurō had to admit that she was quite beautiful, even with that slight furrow in her brows. But, before he could stop himself, he reached out and gently smoothed the crease down with the pads of his fingers.

Unbeknownst to him, a small and warm smile had tugged up at the corners of his lips; which had Senjurō looking between the Flame Hashira and the stranger.

He didn’t want to make assumptions, but he could feel that there was something divine at play with their situation. Especially since the woman looked like she didn’t belong in their country, nor did she belong in their time.

It wasn’t until night had fallen that the brothers saw her stir awake, and they immediately waited with baited breath for her to open her eyes. But when she did open them, they immediately widened as she bolted upright on the futon— scooting away from the Rengokus and dragging the blanket closer towards her chest.

As if that would protect her from a Hashira.

“I have to be dreaming,” (Y/n) whispered frantically, curling her fingers around the blanket and bringing it up to shield her face from the pair in front of her; then brought it back down after a few seconds, to check if they were still there.

Lo and behold, Kyōjurō and Senjurō were still looking at her; which prompted her to do it twice more, until the older of the two tugged the blanket out of her hands and scooted closer to her.

(Y/n) wanted nothing more than to scream at that moment— both with fear and various other overwhelming emotions— but she bit down on her tongue and held it in. On the off chance that it was all some elaborate prank, she didn’t want to make even more of a fool of herself.

“Your name,” Kyōjurō began, letting his curiosity get the better of him as he gave in and jumped into interrogating her already. After all, he had been waiting all afternoon for her to wake up. “What’s your name?”

Hell, he had even pushed back the time for his nightly patrols in case she woke up. Because he wanted to be there when she opened those breathtaking eyes of hers; ones that widened in surprise at his question.

Thankfully, (Y/n) caught his words with very little difficulty.

“(Y/n)…” The young woman breathed out, completely enamored by how close those fiery eyes were to her face. She had only seen them in her dreams, and to have them look so real… it was a dream come true; even if she was sure that she was only hallucinating.

Since there was no way that a manga character could be real.

“I… I mean… (L/n) (Y/n),” She stammered out in the choppiest-sounding Japanese that she had ever uttered. It was even worse than when she had asked someone for directions in the street the day before; making her want to snatch the blanket back and hide under it until the burning in her cheeks subsided.

“(L/n) (Y/n),” Kyōjurō whispered under his breath, feeling his lips tingle as a smile tugged up at the corners of his lips— for some unknown reason. The name was so foreign on his tongue, and he had pronounced it differently than she had, but it still had his heart fluttering inside his chest. “Earlier, you mentioned my name. How do you know me?”

That had all of (Y/n)’s thoughts coming to a standstill inside her head, stumping her until she could feel her right eye twitching with her discomfort. After all, she couldn’t very well tell him that he was a fictional character in a manga— one that she cared for immensely.

But she also knew that she wouldn’t be able to explain why she was there in the first place, if she lied to him. That, and something told her that Kyōjurō would willingly hear her out, and even accept what she was going to say.

He would be a little skeptical about it, but she knew as much as he did that no one would be able to explain exactly what had happened.

So, to the best of her ability, she wracked her brain for all of the Japanese words that she had learned, and began to explain in choppy sentences. “I’m not from here. I’m from the future… and this is a manga.”

The Hashira’s eyebrows furrowed at that, and he was about to open his mouth to speak, when Senjurō reached out to lay a hand on his forearm.

“Maybe we should hear her out first, ani-ue?”

Those words prompted Kyōjurō to look over at Senjurō, before scooting back to sit next to his brother, and letting go of the blanket that he had unceremoniously snatched from their guest. Part of him had his defenses raised, and wanted nothing more than to get things over with— but another, much bigger part, had him wanting to sit there and listen to what she had to say.

All night long, if he had the leisure of doing so.

And so, with her choppy Japanese, (Y/n) went on to tell the Rengoku brothers everything that had happened since she had arrived at the temple in Setagaya, and everything that happened between that and fainting in his arms; with the last bit making her blush profusely, while she looked away.

Surprisingly, Kyōjurō found the flustered expression cute on her… but what threw the young man even more for a loop was his reaction: stifling a smile, as his cheeks also warmed up with a blush identical to hers.

Never in his life had he been flustered like that; which was made even more intense with the butterflies fluttering around inside his stomach. It was a foreign feeling, but something that he welcomed… because it was something nice and warm.

Something that he knew he had been missing all along.

“And that’s how I ended up here. I was just looking for my friend...” (Y/n) implored softly, letting her gaze flicker between the two blonds in front of her. “Do you believe me?”

She then waited with baited breath for Kyōjurō’s answer, staring intently at him, and sighing when he minutely nodded his head. “Parts of your story explain things, so I’ll believe you… for now.”

“Okay. Okay, I’ll take that.” (Y/n) smiled at him, feeling extremely comfortable under his gaze for once— only to feel her breath catch in her throat when the Hashira returned it with a much brighter one than hers.

If he kept smiling at her like that, she might just traverse time and space again— what with how surreal it looked.

Both of them seemed to be stuck at a standstill then, with their eyes not once flickering away from the other— as their smiles tapered down into smaller ones.

All the while, Senjurō could only look on with a hint of a smile tugging up on his cheeks; because he had never seen his brother ever look so interested in a woman before. And maybe, just maybe, he’d finally found the one who was going to take care of his heart.

“Ani-ue, I think it’s time for your patrols now,” The younger Rengoku began with a mirthful tone, popping the invisible bubble that ensconced the pair with him.

That had the Hashira sitting upright even more, shoulders stiffening as he picked his sword up from beside him and immediately got up. He had completely forgotten that he had to do a patrol of the area, just so everyone under his jurisdiction could stay safe.

However, he felt a little reluctant to leave his guest just like that.

“Let’s talk more tomorrow, (L/n)-san,” He bid then, biting down unsurely on his bottom lip when he realized just how forward he sounded— but not doing anything to retract the statement.

Because he had to admit, he wanted to talk to her more; get to know her. All of her.

To his utter shock— and pleasure— he saw the young woman nod at him, before uttering words that had his heart practically jumping out of his chest and gracing all of them with its presence.

“Stay safe, Kyōjurō… I mean, Rengoku-san.”

It was safe to say that all throughout his patrol, Kyōjurō’s mind always drifted back to the intriguing woman that had literally and figuratively fallen into his arms.

***

When morning finally came, it was to hear nothing but tranquil silence within the Rengoku household. There was the telltale chirping of birds outside, and the soft din of people chattering as they passed by the house— but it seemed that everyone was still asleep within the estate itself.

But (Y/n) was proven wrong when she heard three soft knocks outside of her room. “(L/n)-san? Are you awake?”

It was Senjurō, to whom she answered that she was awake and that she could come in— in the most chipper voice possible. She couldn’t help it, there was just something about the youngest Rengoku that made her all smiley and happy; like he was a bright ray of light in a dark and dreary world.

Much like how Kyōjurō was.

“Good morning, Senjurō-kun,” She greeted with a smile, quietly taking note of the change of clothes that was in his arms. They looked extremely nice; red, with black and gold embroidery, from her vantage point.

“Ani-ue got these for you earlier this morning… as soon as the shop opened,” Senjurō admitted with a soft, and teasing, smile; one that had (Y/n)’s cheeks flaring red at how sweet the gesture was, and how she just knew that a little boy was poking fun at her for making it so obvious that she liked his older brother.

Because, really, from how she had made moony eyes at him last night— there was no denying that Senjurō knew just how attracted she really was to Kyōjurō.

Thankfully, the younger Rengoku didn’t push his teasing more than that— opting instead to hand her the clothes, so she could get ready for the day.

It had taken a while for her to get herself done up in the kimono, but she eventually padded over to the shoji and poked her head outside, calling out softly, “Senjurō-kun? I’m done.”

When there was no answer, (Y/n) waited unsurely by the door for a little longer, until she felt awkward just standing there. So, she closed it once more, then padded over to her futon— folding everything up like she had seen in all the Japanese dramas that she had seen— and then moving towards her bag, that had been left a few ways away from where she had been sleeping.

She then rifled through the contents, sighing in relief when she found her passport and her wallet still in there— along with her phone, which had a few cracks on the screen.

“Fuck, that’s gonna be a bitch to use,” The young woman muttered in her native tongue, clicking her tongue in mild irritation as she tried to turning it on again.

No luck, however, which had her throwing it back in her bag and setting it back down on the floor. After all, she sincerely doubted that she would be able to use her paper bills and card to pay for anything in that era.

She was basically nothing more than a sitting duck, unless she stuck close to the Rengokus until she could figure out how and why she was even there in the first place. But those thoughts were put to a halt when she heard Kyōjurō’s telltale laughter from outside the house.

And, before she could stop her feet, she had already padded over to the shoji that led to the yard and had slid it open a tiny bit— peering outside with one eye, before opening the door a little bit wider to poke her head out.

“Kyō- Rengoku-san?” Tiptoeing out onto the engawa, (Y/n) looked left and right to see where his voice was coming from; and it wasn’t until she was standing at the end of the platform, while holding on to a beam, that she saw the familiar head of blond hair that she had been looking for.

Just in time, as well, because Kyōjurō saw her during pretty much the same moment— and the brighter and warmer smile that played at his lips was close to inevitable.

The Hashira felt his heart skip another beat in his chest, as he halfheartedly excused himself from the Kakushi that he had been talking to. And with a few quick strides, as well as a little vault up onto the engawa— to show off a little for the object of his affections— he greeted, “Good morning, (L/n)-san. Did you sleep well?”

“I did, thank you… for your hospitality. For the kimono, and for believing me too…” Her words were choppy at best, but the Hashira picked up on all of that she wanted to tell him— making his grin widen even more, until it was so bright that it was even more breathtaking than before.

Truly, no one could say that Rengoku Kyōjurō wasn’t quite the looker. Because he was.

“I just… saw it at the shop and thought of you,” The young man chuckled bashfully, even going as far as to lift a hand up to the back of his neck and scratch at it in such an adorable manner. “It looks really, really good on you.”

Partnered with the blush on his cheeks, (Y/n) was sure then that her heart was going to get tired sooner rather than later from beating so fast and hard in her chest. “Thank you, Rengoku-san.”

“Kyōjurō.” That had (Y/n)’s eyebrows furrowing in confusion, but even the man himself wasn’t sure what had come over him at that moment. All that he knew was that he wanted to hear her keep saying his name; his given name, like she had before. “You can call me Kyōjurō.”

Her answering smile was so beautiful that the Hashira had to resist the urge to cup her cheeks in his hands and… he didn’t even want to think about what he would have done to those alluring lips of hers.

“Okay, Kyōjurō,” The sound of his given name rolling off of her pretty lips had those butterflies fluttering around inside his stomach again, which only intensified when she added, “You can call me (Y/n).”

Meanwhile, Senjurō was looking at the couple from inside (Y/n)’s room; as he had just come back to get her to have breakfast with him. But the development that he had come across had him stifling a giggle, because the pair looked absolutely adorable out on the engawa.

Both of them flustered, barely a few feet away from each other, and making such moony gazes at each other— which they were oblivious to. It confirmed the younger Rengoku’s hunch that his brother might have finally found the woman for him.

Someone that he would love and cherish forever, and vice versa.

He almost didn’t want to cut in their little moment. “Ani-ue? (L/n)-san? I made breakfast for all of us.”

At the sound of Senjurō’s voice, both Kyōjurō and (Y/n) stepped away from each other; like the spell around them was broken, much like what had happened last night. And the younger Rengoku regretted having done so because, if he were to be honest, he would say that he just wanted his brother to be happy.

***

“What should we do today? Should we ask around if anyone knows anything about traversing time?” Kyōjurō offered as he set down his cup of water, looking over at (Y/n) and automatically smiling at her— a small one, but a smile all the same.

“Wouldn’t that be too… weird?”

“You have a point,” The Hashira laughed then, crossing his arms over his chest and wracking through his head to see what solutions he could offer to his cute guest.

And that had nothing to do with wanting to impress her even more. Nothing at all.

With that, however, both of them settled with retracing (Y/n)’s steps before she had jumped through time and space— going back to the temple near Kyōjurō’s house, and trying to look for any indicators that there had been something awry at play.

But there was none; not even a suspicious looking crack in the ground or any trees that could have served as some portal to another reality.

There was, however, a headache coming on for (Y/n). Especially when she came closer to the pagoda in the middle of the sacred grounds. It was as if it was the source of her affliction— which wouldn’t be far off from her own guess that what she was doing there was somehow tied to the wish she’d made to the gods.

The wish where she’d asked to meet her soulmate; someone who would love her wholeheartedly forever. And she couldn’t think of anyone else that she wanted to fit the bill more, than Rengoku Kyōjurō.

“Are you alright, (Y/n)?”

Kyōjurō’s words had her snapping out of her reverie; shaking her head a little, as if to shake off all of those thoughts, before turning to him. “I just… headache.”

Her words had absolutely escaped her then, since the sight of him reaching out to her was reminiscent of the vision that had flashed in her mind yesterday; just before she had been transported to his time and reality.

And to her absolute surprise, he pressed his fingers to the middle of her forehead and gently smoothed out the space between her eyebrows. She hadn’t even realized that she had been furrowing them in the first place, and that action had her blushing beet red; all the way up to the tips of her ears.

“You don’t need to frown that much, you look prettier with a smile,” The young man complimented quietly; for once abiding by the tranquil atmosphere at the temple.

That, and maybe because he wanted her to be the only one who heard those words; as they were specifically for her alone.

Slowly, he retracted his hand from (Y/n)’s forehead, and steadily tamped down the urge to pull her in and finally have a taste of those lips of hers. It wouldn’t have been a polite thing to do in such sacred grounds, in public— no less.

“Why don’t we talk a walk around the town instead? To give you some reprieve,” The Hashira offered with a smile. “And then we can come back here tomorrow to look for more information…”

Part of him wanted to jump the gun and tell her that she could stay with him forever, but even he knew that that was too forward. They had just met yesterday, after all; and she had told him that his reality only existed in a manga.

If that wasn’t the premise for something tragic, he didn’t know what was. And even though he was so tempted to give in to his budding feelings, he couldn’t put that much pressure on her.

It was true that she made him feel so much— so many good things that he didn’t even think he could feel about someone— but he also had a feeling that, sooner or later, she would want to go back to where she came from.

He didn’t want to be the cause of tethering her down there; especially not when demons were running rampant around the country.

But damn if he didn’t want to keep her with him forever.

Just a day and he was already in so deep; he was both excited and apprehensive of how much deeper his feelings would get for her the longer she stayed there.

Little did he know just how much she would come to mean to him.

***

“Kyōjurō? It’s time for breakfast!” (Y/n) called aloud, before banging the wooden spoon against the pot in her hand— letting the Flame Hashira know, in not so many words, that he should get out of his room then.

It had already been a few months since she had arrived in the Taisho era, and she would be lying if she said that she wasn’t worried about what was happening in her own timeline and reality— but there was realistically nothing that she could do about things.

So, she slowly started to accept the fact that she was stuck there. Not without worrying nightly about how her best friend was doing, and how her family was faring along. She still thought about them and constantly thought about ways that she could possibly get back home, but her efforts weren’t as valiant as before.

Especially since things with Kyōjurō had taken a more… romantic turn.

They had never said anything to confirm their feelings, but it was evident in the way that Kyōjurō would cup her face and hold her hand in private, that he felt the same way that (Y/n) felt for him.

It had been really surprising when he had first taken her hand, mostly because he had done so abruptly during the rare dinner when it was only the two of them eating. Hell, she had almost spilled her food when Kyōjurō just reached out and practically slapped his hand down on hers.

Thankfully, he had gotten gentler over the months, and he had learned to slowly slip her hand into his instead; which never failed to make (Y/n)’s heart flutter— each and every time.

The mere memory of his warm and rough hand enveloping hers had her smiling and blushing, as she set the bowls of food down on the dining table set for three people. Shinjurō never ate with them, and it wasn’t that he didn’t know of her existence— he knew, yet he preferred to stay in his room instead.

So (Y/n) had no idea what the Rengoku patriarch thought about her, or her relationship with his son.

She had been so deep in thought that she didn’t even feel the Hashira’s presence in the room; not until Kyōjurō sat down beside her.

Kyōjurō’s eyes zoned in on the young woman’s left cheek, as he had been doing since he had entered the room a few minutes before. He had been planning on kissing her for a long time, yet he always chickened out at the last minute— so he resolved that day, that he was going to do it.

Or he was going to double his morning exercise routine, as a form of punishment.

“Good morning, (Y/n).” He had been doing so well with his efforts too, what with him leaning in to try and brush his lips against her soft cheek— only for her to turn towards him when he had placed his hand on her back.

And, in a turn of events that he could have only dreamt of until that point, his lips slanted against her in a faint kiss.

Immediately, both their eyes widened in surprise, yet they remained frozen in place; both of them not knowing where things were going next. Not until the Flame Hashira decided to jump in and pull her in further against him, all while pressing his lips harder against her own.

She was so warm, his lips were tingling slightly at the feeling of kissing her, and he wished that the feeling would never end— as he fought off the urge to completely melt against her; along with tamping down the voice in his head that told him to pull her onto his lap and claim her lips thoroughly.

But, at the very last second, he slowly pulled back from her and took a deep breath to calm his racing pulse. He didn’t want to rush her into things; that wasn’t how he was raised.

After all, he wanted to marry her first.

The thought of marriage didn’t even faze him, since he had been considering it a few months after knowing (Y/n). Kyōjurō wanted nothing more than to ask for her hand in marriage, to show her that he really would cherish her forever if she chose to stay with him, but there was still the matter of her not being from that timeline that held him back from doing so.

When before he hadn’t wanted to hold her back from wanting to return to her own reality, he was beginning to succumb to the selfishness that brewed within him.

If given the chance to keep her forever, he would take it in a heartbeat.

“I…” (Y/n) whispered, face completely red and a little bit winded, as she lifted a hand and gently pressed her fingers against her lips.

Finding her shyness extremely cute, the Hashira’s lips pulled up at the corners into a grin— as he pulled a little bit away from her; if only to see more of her adorable expression. “You’re so beautiful.”

Those words only served to shock the young woman even further; eyes widening in surprise, as they flickered up and stared into those piercing red and yellow irises that she had come to love even more.

Much more than she did, than when she had thought he was nothing but a character in a manga. And so much more than she had loved any other person.

It was almost scary how much she loved and cared for Kyōjurō.

So, it absolutely tore her heart when she heard that he had been called to Oyakata-sama’s estate later that afternoon, which had her heart sinking to her stomach. It never boded well for her whenever Kyōjurō went away on missions, but to know that what she had been dreading was unfolding right before her eyes once more— for real, that time— had her feeling weak in the knees as she waited for Kyōjurō at home.

Only, instead of seeing her beloved walking through the gates, she saw his crow flying overhead— with a letter tied to one of its feet.

Her heart sank at the mere sight of it, and even more when she unfurled the parchment to see a letter that told her that he would be back in a few days.

That he just had to deal with a demon, and that he had to take the long-haul train to find it.

“No, no, no, no,” Her breaths came in shallow bursts, and her heart had felt like it had stopped inside her chest. Still, with her entire body awash with a cold and crippling kind of fear, she forced her legs to take her to the room that she had been given within the estate.

Once there, she fished out the pouch where she kept the money that Kyōjurō had been giving her— so she could buy things that she wanted— and didn’t even bother to check in with Senjurō before she left.

(Y/n) couldn’t tell him, because she would make sure that he had nothing to worry about. She would make sure that Kyōjurō lived, because she couldn’t take losing him again— and on a scale that was real, that time.

Reading about it was a different kind of pain, but experiencing it would make her crazy.

He had become such an important person to her, that to lose him would equal to her losing herself. So, that was how she found herself setting off to follow him to the train station.

Unfortunately, she had no clue where it was; nor could she ask anyone for directions— as most people shied away from her. With her being a foreigner and all, most of the locals had taken to simply ignoring her because of Kyōjurō; and it pissed her off to no end that she they wouldn’t even look her in the eye.

Kyōjurō and Senjurō had been the only ones to accept her wholeheartedly into their home, and she couldn’t be more thankful for that. Albeit a little suspicious about the gods once more playing a hand with how she had come across them, because there was no way that it was pure coincidence that she had traversed realities the same day that he decided to visit the temple on a whim.

Had she not come across them that day, she didn’t even know where she would have ended up.

And with that last thought swimming in her head, she straightened her shoulders out and took in a deep breath before soldiering on to where she had once had Senjurō mention the train station.

If memory served her right, and if she understood him correctly, then she would get there with about twenty minutes of walking.

“Why isn’t Uber a thing here?” She whispered under her breath, huffing as she fanned herself with her hand and started power walking towards where she guessed the station was.

Only, she had made a wrong turn at one point— and had to retrace her steps to the main road; where she then tried her hardest to make out the characters from ‘station’ on the sign boards and flyers that she had passed by.

And after an extra half hour, she had finally arrived at the station; met with so many people falling in line to get tickets for the first and only train that was leaving for the day. She almost wanted to tell people not to buy any of the tickets, and tell them to go home, yet she was but a tiny speck in a sea of people.

A foreigner, no less; so, the chances of anyone taking her seriously were nil.

Part of her was tempted to tell Kyōjurō about it, but she didn’t want to alert the lower moon demon controlling the train about her knowledge of things; as that would only put her at the forefront of his kill list, and would most likely put more people in danger.

She had to be smart about things, so she hatched a quick— and half-cocked— plan to hide in the last train car until she was sure that the train conductor was back out towards the first train car, before she snuck in to save Kyōjurō and the others.

“Oh thank all the gods that I took this part to heart,” The young woman whispered once more, as she looked down at her ticket and conveniently threw it in the trash bin.

She wanted to hop in the train car that her beloved was on, if only to see him safe and sound— and eating his mountain of bento box meals— but bypassed that car quickly as she hastened to the last one.

And, with one look behind herself as the train whistle blew, to see if the coast was clear, she hopped on the platform to the cargo hold and quickly snuck inside the dark and stifling car.

As nervous as she was, her heart pounding wildly in her chest was something she expected; what was weird was the tightness that came with it. It was suffocating, and beginning to weigh down on her shoulders, yet she shook the feeling off in favor of finding a trunk that wasn’t stacked up to sit on.

Once she was situated nicely— just in time too, as the train began to lurch forward— she began to run through all of the manga panels in her head. She could only vividly remember the part where Akaza appeared, as that part was such a painfully memorable one, but the few flashes of the train panels helped her gauge the timeline.

Plus, it also helped her bide her time; calming her racing thoughts a little, since she knew that Kyōjurō and the others would be able to handle the demon with little to no problems.

Once she heard the train’s whistle, she took that as a signal to get up from her perch on one of the trunks— making her way towards the steel door that led to the other cars.

Only, when she tried to turn the knob, it was to find that it was chained from the outside.

“Fuck. Fuck,” The young woman whispered under her breath, trying desperately to push the door open— on the off chance that the porter had been lazy and didn’t latch the padlock on the chains. But, as her luck would have it, the padlock was firmly in place, keeping the door firmly shut.

Instantly, her eyes darted around the dim room, trying to look for a way to get out of there before things went to hell inside the train. But she found no other exits except the main doors, as the windows had metal screens on them to keep thieves out.

The train lurched beneath her at that moment, making her cry out as she got jostled against the door. And it wouldn’t have been bad, had the mountain of luggage behind her not come falling down; essentially trapping her right where she stood.

Just when she thought that things could get worse for her, they did when the heaviness that had been brewing inside her since she had boarded the train began to bubble up. It had her fighting back the migraine that practically split her head, all while resisting the urge to reach up and clutch at her tightening chest. She was left like a sitting duck, barely holding herself back from crying and screaming out her beloved’s name.

That was, until she remembered that Kyōjurō would be protecting the last five car trains; which most likely included the passenger car right across the car that she was in.

“Kyōjurō! Kyōjurō!” She whisper-yelled, wishing to all the gods that the demon on top of the train wouldn’t pay much attention to the ruckus that she was causing.

(Y/n) then began banging on the door with her open hand; heavy and frantic taps that she was sure the Flame Hashira would hear the moment that he came darting to the last passenger car.

Her hunch was right, thankfully, as Kyōjurō picked up on her faint calls through the noise of the train and the ruckus that the demon was making. And hearing her voice above all of that felt akin to having a bucket of ice-cold water being thrown at him; as icy fear gripped his chest.

“(Y/n)?!” The Hashira called out, kicking down the door that the demon had sealed shut with its flesh, eyes wide with panic and his heart racing in his chest the more that he heard her banging against the door and calling out his name.

Not wasting anymore time, Kyōjurō threw a quick glance over his shoulder and huffed out a frustrated sigh as he was torn between doing another mad dash to the front of all the carriages that he was protecting.

But it was a no brainer what his choice was: it was to save (Y/n) first, because she would always be his top priority.

And so, with a small leap to get to the cargo hold, he swung down the hilt of his sword and broke the lock that held the chains together; wrenching the door open and opening his arms just in time for his beloved to jump into them.

Tears marred her cheeks, but it didn’t appear that she had noticed that she had been crying in the first place, as she made no move to wipe them away. That made him feel even worse, but he brought his left hand up to cup the back of her head as he pressed her cheek to the crook of his neck.

“I’m here, shh, you’re okay. I’m here, my love.” In any other time, the effortless use of the nickname would have made him blush so hard but, at that moment, it only brought him relief. “I have you. You’re okay.”

He didn’t know why she was even there in the first place, but it really wasn’t the time or the place to ask her that. So, he decided to just ask her later.

(Y/n)’s arms automatically wrapped themselves around Kyōjurō’s middle, as she held herself as close to him as possible. The pain she felt was beginning to intensify, and the tightness in her chest began to double— and all she could do was cry; no matter how much she forced herself to numb herself down from all the negative sensations assaulting her.

She clung as tightly as she could to the back of the Hashira’s uniform, being selfish enough to not want him to part from her— because parting from her would mean certain death for him.

There was nothing more that (Y/n) wanted than for her beloved man to stay alive— so they could make all of her wishes for their future a reality. A family with him— the house in the mountains that she wanted, all the kids that she’d only seen him looking at with a sad longing in his eyes; she wanted to make him the happiest man in the world.

But she also knew that she couldn’t let it cost anyone’s life.

“(Y/n), I have to go.” Reluctantly, the blond pulled the young woman away from him; looking down at her tear-stained face before leaning down so he could brush his lips against her. “I’ll come back for you, just stay here.”

And with that, he untangled himself from his beloved (Y/n)’s arms dived back into the foray with the demon; making as quick work of it as possible; all while protecting the rest of the passengers on the train.

It was his duty, after all.

But he would be lying if he said that he didn’t want things to get over and done with as quickly as possible. Which had him really thankful— yet slightly fearful for (Y/n)’s safety— when the train derailed; sending people flying, and carriages falling to the wayside of the tracks.

Kyōjurō didn’t even wait another second to see the demon start to disintegrate, because his feet carried him towards the object of his affections; his future wife.

She had been tossed back within the luggage car, making his heart sink to his stomach as he hurriedly pushed away all of the trunks and luggage bags that were blocking her from coming to him.

Her sobs were soft and muffled as she bit down on her bottom lip, but they still felt like tiny pinpricks of ice to the Flame Hashira’s heart; especially when he saw how battered she had gotten in the fiasco.

The bruise forming on her cheek was minor, but he still found himself hugging her as tight as he could— burying his face in her hair, as she clung to him once more.

In the distance, Kyōjurō picked up another presence— one that had him looking up and surveying the area. And he found himself pulling away from (Y/n) to have his hand ready at the hilt of his sword. Whatever had come was powerful, and he wanted her nowhere near it.

“Stay here, and don’t go anywhere.”

The young woman’s eyes widened at that implication, knowing what was to come; getting her stuck in a moral dilemma, that had her pinned between a rock and another hard place. Yet, she would be damned if she didn’t admit that it hurt so much. “No, no, no, you can’t go. Please. Please, Kyōjurō. Please.”

If only she could help him, then she would have. She would have done everything in her power to help him.

Her hands tried to hold him where he was, but Kyōjurō still pulled away from her again, feeling something in his gut telling him to stay put. But he wasn’t doing that; not when he had so many people to protect— especially the person whom he was going to ask to marry him after all that had happened.

“Don’t worry about me dying here,” And so, with a reassuring smile at her, the blond whispered, “I’ll come back to you, I promise.”

Those words didn’t reassure (Y/n) one bit but, before she could reach out and hold him again, the pain bearing down on her had her clutching her chest and gritting her teeth; unbeknownst to Kyōjurō, whom had just darted towards where he was sensing the newcomer’s dangerous aura.

It was as if there was a vise wrapped around (Y/n)’s neck; making her breaths come out in ragged pants, and her muscles seize up with the overall agony that coursed through her body.

And it was at that moment that she realized that, little by little, she was starting to disappear; her fingertips turning into golden dust at first, and slowly extending up to her knuckles.

“No. Not now, please. Not now,” She whimpered, completely helpless, as she stared at her shaking hands. “Fuck.”

A loud bang had her looking up from her own dilemma, making her see the bigger picture and urging her to move before she thought about it. Her legs began to carry her as fast as they could to where the cloud of dust had formed, with her being completely uncaring about how she felt and how she would end up.

What mattered to her was getting to Kyōjurō, and saving him, even if it cost her life.

Just up ahead, she could see only flashes of Akaza effortlessly fighting off Kyōjurō’s attacks, which had her pushing her legs even faster— all while more and more tears rolled down her cheeks.

“KYŌJURŌ!” She cried in a broken and hoarse tone, which fell on deaf ears as he was too engrossed in fighting off the Upper Moon demon.

It had only been a mere few minutes, but the Flame Hashira was already battered and bruised; his ribs were broken, and he was sure that he was bleeding internally at that point, yet he still pushed forward.

Only stopping when he had missed and Akaza had managed to land a painful blow to his left eye. It put him at such a hard spot, yet he didn’t want to give up.

He couldn’t give up.

His breath was also coming in shaky bursts at that moment, and his entire body ached, but he was thankful for the little reprieve that he received as he geared up for one more blow; adjusting his hold on the hilt of his sword and concentrating all of his efforts into the tenth form.

However, just as he and Akaza charged forward, (Y/n)’s voice cut through Akaza’s nonsensical chatter; and it felt like the world had come to a standstill as both of them looked over to where she was.

And it was to feel his entire body go numb when he saw her starting to disintegrate; golden dust emanating from every part of her that all the fight in him almost leaving his body. Had it not been for his last-minute thinking, he wouldn’t have taken the little window that (Y/n)’s distraction provided to swing his sword and cut off the Upper Moon demon’s head.

It fell to the ground with a muffled thud, but he couldn’t care less about it then— thinking that his job was done— as he raced towards (Y/n) and caught her just in time as she collapsed to the ground.

He hadn’t even realized that he was also crying, not until he had (Y/n) cradled in his arms as she cupped his cheeks with her half-disintegrated hands. “(Y/n), what’s wrong? What’s happening? What should I do?”

Kyōjurō’s mind was racing with so many thoughts at once, yet he could only manage to speak in broken fragments— as his sobs cut through his sentences. He sounded every inch of the broken man that he felt.

It was as if someone had just ripped his heart out right in front of him.

“I’ll… I’ll find you in your reality. I promise. You won’t ever be alone ever again, (Y/n); you mean everything to me.” His confession poured from his lips, frantic and garbled, but still legible to everyone’s ears. But what had everyone looking away was when the Flame Hashira dipped his head and claimed his beloved’s lips as the sun rose over the horizon.

Holding himself against her, all while he devolved into such loud and heartbroken sobs as he promised over and over that he would find her in her own time and reality.

After all, he was never one to back down from promises; especially when it came to the one and only love of his life.

***

When (Y/n) came to, it was to the sight of her best friend hovering above her— with her face stained with tears, and her eyes looking completely panicked. “What are you even doing here? I’ve been looking for you for almost an hour now! I thought you got kidnapped!”

Slowly, the young woman looked around her and noted that she was back at the temple in Setagaya; with her back flush against the stone pavement just behind the pagoda.

Thankfully, no one else was there to see her in such an embarrassing predicament.

“And when did you get a kimono as nice as that? Did you leave me behind just to get that? Christ, (Y/n)!” (F/n) rambled through her tears, roughly picking her best friend up by the shoulders and holding her close as she called her a dumbass over and over.

“I…” She couldn’t even answer straight, as what had transpired in the Taishō era flashed in her mind. It had her thinking if it had all been a hallucination, but when she looked down at the kimono she wore, she could tell that it wasn’t.

Because there was no other explanation for the fiery red kimono she donned, other than her traversing time and spending almost a year with Rengoku Kyōjurō. It seemed to her that time flowed differently in both realities, because she was sure that ten months had already passed.

“You what?”

“I was with him… with Kyōjurō,” (Y/n) whispered, feeling her own tears well up in her eyes, before they began falling down her cheeks. “I… he fought Akaza, and he lived… but I disappeared.”

“You’re not making any sense, (Y/n). Did you hit your head hard?” With those words, (F/n) reached up and felt for any bumps to the back of her friend’s head— only to find none. “And where’s your bag? Did you leave it somewhere?”

The young woman sat there instead of answering, completely frozen as her silent tears gradually turned into sobs. All the while, her arms wrapped themselves around her friend, and she cried her heart out— for all the things that had been, and all of the things that could have been between her and her beloved Hashira.

She didn’t even know how long they sat there on the ground but, once she was all cried out, (F/n) transferred her to one of the benches that were strewn around the temple; letting her get her bearings, before she set off to try and help her friend find her bag.

With every minute that passed, the pain in (Y/n)’s heart grew harder and harder to deal with— and she wanted nothing more than to go home at that moment, if only to curl up into a ball and try to remember the way that Kyōjurō’s lips felt against hers.

“You look so sad, my love…” The familiar voice had the aforementioned woman looking up, especially when she felt a warm and gentle hand cup her cheek and tilt her face up.

Slowly, tears that she didn’t know she could still produce welled up in her eyes— as she took in the glorious sight that Kyōjurō made in his own black kimono. He had a scar on his closed left eye, but it gave him such a rugged edge that— dare she say— was not unattractive at all. And partnered with the tears, her lips pulled up at the corners in a disbelieving yet relieved smile; something that was all for him as she sprung up and wrapped her arms around him.

“You’re here! How?” Her hands clung tightly to him, curling into the material of his clothes as she buried her face in the crook of his neck— taking in the scent that was so intoxicating and entirely Kyōjurō.

“Well, I had to return your bag…” The blond chuckled, as he ensconced his beloved in his arms— brushing his lips against the crown of her head, and smiling when he felt her lips brush against his skin. “That, and I wanted to ask if you would marry me.”

“Yes! Yes, but… how?” (Y/n) answered with a slight laugh, pulling back and cupping Kyōjurō’s cheeks in her hands; as if to make sure that he really was there.

The young man grinned then, taking hold of one of her hands and turning his head to press his lips against the inside of her wrist. “It took a while to arrange everything with Oyakata-sama, and to figure out how to get here, but I’m sure that one of his descendants from this time and reality would have my identification papers for me.”

Silence passed between the couple then, as (Y/n) tossed and turned his words in her head, before giving in and wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her lips against his— in a much-anticipated kiss.

She had so many questions left unanswered, and she was extremely tempted to face the gods once more and ask them what exactly was happening, but she reckoned that it was best not to challenge them anymore.

After all, she had gotten her wish: someone who would love and cherish her forever; and that man was Rengoku Kyōjurō.

BONUS:

(F/n) huffed irately as she stepped back from a thicket of bushes within the temple grounds, still feeling cross with her best friend for disappearing just like that— but not understanding what she was getting at with her explanation of meeting a manga character.

And, finally feeling defeated in her search for (Y/n)’s bag, she circled back to where she left the other woman— only to see her pulling away from a kiss with a weird looking man; someone that looked eerily similar to Rengoku from the Demon Slayer manga.

Instantly, her hackles were raised, as she let out a barking cry, “Hey, you cool cosplay bitch, get away from her!”

Kyōjurō’s eyebrows furrowed at that, as he didn’t understand a lick of what the other woman had said— but he turned back to his future wife and asked, “Is that the friend that you’d mentioned before? She seems protective. You’ve been in really good hands, then.”

“Didn’t you hear me, you weirdo? Get your hands off of (Y/n)!”

“She has my thanks for protecting you all this time.”

294 notes · View notes

jimlingss · 4 years ago

Text

Moirai [6]

Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7

➜ Words: 2.9k

➜ Genres: 60% Fluff, 40% Angst, Isekai!AU

➜ Summary: Death is supposed to be the end. Or at least that's what you assumed when you're hit by a TRUCK. But the moment you open your eyes again, instead of being sent to the afterlife, you've become a baby. And not just any baby. You're the female villain of a video game.

What the fuck. Those three words encircle your brain as you’re drowned in darkness, body jolting while the wagon shakes violently down the rickety path full of rocks and holes. Bounded and blindfolded, you shift around until you can feel the wall and you use the remaining strength in your body to sit upright. Whoever kidnapped you clearly wasn’t the brightest when they decided to tie your wrists together in front of you. With just a bend of your elbows, you’re able to tear the blindfold off of your eyes and spit out the cloth in your mouth. It takes a second for your vision to focus. It’s difficult to see in the dark, but you’re able to make out the wooden walls around you and the hay underneath your form. You figure out that you’re in the back of a windowless wagon, heading to god knows where. You can’t believe this. You can’t begin to fathom how something like this could happen. But there’s no point in banging your head on the ground and screaming. You struggle with the tight ropes tied around your wrists and ankles, jaw clenching as it burns into your skin further. It seems like they coiled it around your limbs a hundred times and each moment your fingertips can graze one of the many knots, your fingers become more numb. But you don’t want to admit that your attempt is futile. That every movement only exacerbates the pain. You don’t want to acknowledge that your effort is only making it harder for yourself. “Fuck!” The wheel of the wagon crashes through a rock. The entire wagon angrily tilts. You slam back onto the hard ground. Tears sting your eyes and you grit your teeth. In the original game, it was the heroine who was kidnapped. It was a scheme set up by Anastasia. But it’s obvious that you’ve taken her place, that a mistake was made, based on the threat they muttered to you. You don’t know who could’ve done this, who would have such animosity towards her. But you suspect it’s your own parents. If so, it’s a great irony that their own daughter got kidnapped instead. Karma’s a bitch. You just don’t know why you have to suffer the consequences for it. “This gold’ll last me a lifetime!” there’s muffled voices through the other end of the wagon, no doubt the perpetrators on the other side. “And she’ll sell for a pretty penny!” Chortling laughter grates against your ears. You remember it was also in the original game that the heroine was rescued by whoever her love interest is. But you don’t have a love interest. Most certainly Jungkook won’t be the hero and save you, not when Lucy reassured him that you chose to head to your bedroom early. No one’s coming for you. No one. Inside the wagon, you are an island. Or rather, it has always been that way. From the very start, you have been alone. Deserted. Fighting for yourself and fighting to survive the next day. You are a villainess self-turned into a side character without a redemption arc or a beautiful story. Not only are you weighed down with your burdens, but you bear them by yourself. Tears bite at your eyes, the temptation to succumb to your despair overwhelming. But before the thick darkness can consume you whole, you force yourself upwards once more. Once more, you gain your balance. Once more, you attempt to undo your binds. Once more. And by your teeth biting into the rope, you manage to pull at a loose knot. Then, one by one, it starts to untangle, rope plunging downwards, and you yank your hands free. Your wrists burn, rough to the touch. But you don’t dwell when you begin to frantically unravel the binds around your ankle. You rush towards the door once you’re free and throw them open. The wagon is rapidly moving, the horses attached are practically sprinting through the open forest. Every pebble in sight only lasts for a second before it’s gone in the distance. You grasp onto the edge, knowing you need to jump. You need to. You— Can’t. At that exact same moment, the left wheel is knocked into a hole in the dirt road. The wagon jolts violently again and you accidentally stumble forward with a sharp inhale. You brace yourself, eyes shut tight, ready to collide with the ground. But the impact never comes. Instead, you open your eyes to find brown irises gazing into yours. “I’m so glad I came in time.” The corner of Taehyung’s mouth upturns. He’s out of breath, levitating in mid-air with you in his arms. You grasp onto him with tight fists, still shaking. The footman in front notices the noises, slows down and peeks over the wagon. “Hey!” Taehyung sets you down on the ground. “Don’t look,” he says in a low timbre as if asking you to promise him. You swallow hard and shut your eyes tight. Taehyung brushes past you. You hear the footman and another yelling. And then they’re apologizing. There’s the crunch of leaves, a shout, a crack of bones that startles you, and thunder booming in the distance. “Who did this?!” Taehyung’s ear splitting voice makes you flinch. You’ve never witnessed him this angry before. “Was it the King?! It was him, wasn’t it?!” You turn around with your head down. You run towards him. There’s blood seeping through the dirt on the ground, but you don’t give it attention to it as you grab a hold of Taehyung’s arm. “Stop it.” There’s a long pause and you repeat yourself. “Stop.” A body drops in front of you and when you lift your eyes, Taehyung engulfs you in a hug. You’re overtaken by his frame, his warmth keeping the cold away and for once, you give into the temptation. Your lashes flutter as your eyes close and you hug him back. You allow yourself to savour the moment. // The palace awakens past midnight. Barely after the feast has come to a halt, a guard with his sword by his side enters the throne room and strides down the aisle towards the King who was entertaining guests a minute ago. “Your Majesty.” The guard bows. “Prince Taehyung is missing.” “What?” A fist slams down on the armrest. The King’s face is reddened, wrinkles deepening as he scours his mind at where that boy could be, what he could be scheming. “Does anyone know?” “No, Your Majesty. A guard of the Western tower found him missing and reported it. Only the guards and a few maids are aware.” “Then search immediately! Report what you find!” Several guards respond and rush out of the room. At the same time, a maid stands at the doorway with her eyes wide in fear. She hesitates, then cuts through the crowd in the opposite direction, fighting against the current of men. “Y-Your Majesty.” She bows her head at the end of the steps leading up to the throne. “What is it?” “Lady….Lady Anastasia is missing as well.” The King is taken aback, not sure how the castle can be so chaotic at this hour, how it can spiral out of control so quickly after the festivities. He deems himself negligent. “Have you searched the rooms?” She nods. “We’ve looked everywhere, Your Majesty. No one’s seen her ladyship since the feast.” The King sits back, brows furrowed deep enough to hurt. It can’t be a coincidenc— A guard swiftly enters the room. “Your Majesty, they’ve returned.” There are whispers throughout the palace. Those who are still awake at this hour murmur under their breaths, taking second glances, knights and maids, servants and guards alike. They speak of rumours that are sure to be spread when morning comes. But the two of you don’t pay mind. Taehyung’s cape is wrapped around your shoulders, you squeeze his hand and approach together. You don’t know why you thought this would be simple. That you could just slip into your room, into bed and try to stop shaking by yourself. You were gone for far too long to do such a thing. There are too many eyes around, too many who notice when a single hair is amiss. The moment you came back, they told you to meet the King. “What is the reason for your absence?” His eyes scrutinize the both of you as if you were on a scandalous endeavour — the Prince’s fiancée and the bastard son, a pair that would sure ruin the reputation of the entire empire. You don’t even have time to think how far you’re deviating from the original story. “Your Majesty, I was kidnapped,” you confess in a loud voice and the maid standing by gasps. She covers her mouth abruptly the moment it happens and retreats into the side. The King’s eyes dart to her and heavy silence boils throughout the room. You look at the man beside you, his fingers still twined through yours for reasons you’re not sure you want to divulge. “It was His Highness Taehyung who noticed something suspicious and came to rescue me. The perpetrators ran, but I’m safe thanks to him.” You can tell the few people in the room are surprised Taehyung has the capabilities to save you. And that he did. A courageous act that is sure to gain reward. The King makes a disgruntled noise at the back of his throat. “I will find the people responsible for daring to threaten the next Crown Princess.” As if the throne hall was not full of nosy people already, the Duke and Duchess enter with frenzied expressions. It’s unsettling to see them feigning concern. If anything, you’re guessing they’re simmering with anger that their men captured the wrong girl. But it still doesn’t stop your mother from coming to look at you, grasping onto your arm while your father addresses the King, “Your Majesty. We heard the news a moment ago and—” “No need for the formalities, Herrick.” He smiles cordially. “You should take your daughter to rest. We can discuss this matter at a better hour.” He nods and they both usher you out with a parade of servants. But you don’t miss the chance to peek over at your shoulder to look at Taehyung’s form until you have to turn the corner. You stay silent as you lead them into your room. The doors shut, servants outside for the time being and you turn to face your parents. “You did this….didn’t you?” Your mother’s expression is cold and impassive. “Excuse me?” “Can’t you be honest with me?” you plead from them, desperation leaking into your tone. You ache for their sincerity, for their compassion. “I know they captured the wrong person and I know the only people who would want to harm the baron’s daughter are the both of you. You probably thought she was in my way—” “You’re tired, Anastasia.” Your mother waves you off. “You should rest.” “What happens if the King investigates and this leads back to the Devereux house?” Your voice never wavers, feet rooted into the ground. You know they’ll make sure it never traces back to them. But they’ve gone quiet once you’ve mentioned the title they’ve risked. Your father’s frown is unmistakable and your mother doesn’t look at you. “Don’t do things like this anymore. Please.” The two of them look at one another with faces you can’t decipher. You’ve never asked for many things from them before. But this time, you’re begging. There’s a knock on the door and Jungkook enters a second later. He doesn’t notice the tension in the room, the stiff atmosphere that’s put you on the verge of tears. “Anastasia!” He comes to your side, scanning you up and down and your parents take their leave to give you privacy, probably with the hope that this incident will drive you and Jungkook closer together. “I’m alright,” you lie and sit down shakingly on the edge of your bed. Even with the horrors of your reality, you can’t help but wonder what’s going on with Taehyung. // Across the castle, the throne room empties. Everyone’s attending to the Crown Prince’s fiancée after all and an incident like this won’t be taken lightly. It’s a threat to the royal family, something Taehyung knows most about since he’s the embodiment of one. Taehyung turns away. “If I can be excused.” He doesn’t expect a reward, acknowledgment, recognition. He didn’t come to you for those things, but the King would never offer it to him anyway. He’s the bastard son. The shame of the family. And yet, he can’t even leave in peace. “I know what you’re doing,” the King speaks up in a low tone, a warning. The dark-haired man halts-mid step, his brows furrowed in puzzlement. The King’s wiry lips upturn but the smile never reaches his old eyes. “You’re trying to undermine the royal family and take the crown for yourself. First by taking your brother’s fiancée and then gaining the acceptance of the people. Winning the Hunt was only the first step, wasn’t it? I’ve underestimated you, boy. But I’m not blind to greed.” “No.” Taehyung turns on his heel to look at his so-called father. “You’re blind to benevolence. You don’t understand how someone could be motivated by something other than power.” “What is it that you want then?” he challenges him. “If not to take the throne for yourself.” Taehyung walks away. “I want the one thing I could never have.”

The flower petal is plucked. It’s pulled from its center and flutters in a downwards spiral, dusting the grass in a blushing hue. “Are you okay, Anastasia?” Lucy leans in close, her murmur full of concern and you muster a nod as you continue to pluck flower petals. Instead of a game of he loves me, he loves me not, it’s I’ll live, I’ll die. “I knew I should’ve come with you. I was so worried. To think that….that something like that would happen.” You wonder what she would think if she knew that you took her place. That she was the one who was supposed to be taken out in the open in the middle of the night like that. That the both of you traded positions. But she isn’t the one to blame. “It’s not your fault.” “Lady Anastasia...” “You didn’t know something like that would happen.” You muster a smile. “I was the one who told you to go back, right?” Gossip about the incident has spread through the palace and past its walls, especially the fact that Taehyung was the saviour. He rescued you, saved your life. He was the one who came after you when you were confident no one else would. How could someone like that be the villain? You don’t understand. No one does. In the original game, Taehyung instigated a civil war and in one of the final scenes, he dies by his brother’s sword as the heroine he had fallen in love with stands by his brother’s side. The last thing he says is her name before he crumbles on his knees. A death that only brings celebration to the empire. It’s as tragic as your ending. You wonder if such a thing is going to happen in the near future. You wonder if it’s possible you could avoid his bad ending as well as your own. But you don’t know if you can prevent Taehyung from committing his crimes. You don’t know if his hatred and jealousy will ruin him. The pit of your stomach stirs uncomfortably at the thought. He’s done so much for you. He’s saved your life. He shouldn’t succumb to his darkness. You owe him at least that much. “Lucy.” You snap back to attention, turning to the girl who’s been keeping you company all afternoon by her own accord. “What do you think of Taehyung?” You saw her earlier talking to Jungkook in the open corridor. It looked like they ran into one another on accident, but while you couldn’t hear what their conversation was about, it seemed intimate. Or at least, you’ve never seen Jungkook look so delighted and shy at the same time. Usually, you’d watch from afar. Admire the scene at a distance. But you’re not sure what to think of it anymore. “His Highness?” She blinks and admits, “I’ve only held one conversation with him before. But he seems very kind.” “He is.” For some reason, your smile can’t reach your eyes. “You should speak to him more. He would be a good match for you.” The girl is caught off guard by your bluntness and blushes while looking away. “I-I would never dare to dream of marrying into the royal family. I’m already honoured to be your friend, Anastasia.” Your arm extends and you clasp your hand on top of her’s that’s within her lap. “Then think of it as a favour you’re doing for me.” Lucy meets your eyes with a frown, unable to understand why you’re oddly persistent. But she doesn’t know that the only route to save Taehyung is through the heroine, albeit she will suffer the most and it’s the hardest path to take. Instead of being with Jungkook, it’s possible she can end up with Taehyung. But only she has the capabilities to save him, just like the game. You look down to your ground that’s filled with the remains of the flowers you ruined. It’s just like the villainess to have to destroy everything she touches.

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #taehyung x reader #taehyung x y/n #bts reader insert #taehyung fanfic #taehyung scenario #I know this chapter is short but next chapter will be a bit longer #plus this is kind of a necessary intermission before shit really hits the fan #trust me y'all #anyway hope you enjoy it!!

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