A/N: Written for a prompt on the kink meme asking for a time traveling Mouri and Tsuruhime.
Time Traveling Mouri
The first time ended with failure.
Tsuruhime had predicted as much when they were first working out the kinks for the project—if the sync did not complete, while you would end up in the right body, you would be left without any of the memories of your past self. And even if you shared the same soul, your body was from a different time, and without those memories-from the way the body used its lips to speak to how it felt to stand—you were left like a newborn, almost completely unable to function.
And as he fumbled, trying first to stand and then to speak, attendants rushed into the room, convinced that he was dreadfully ill, and later that he had been possessed by some vengeful spirit. He floundered in this new form for a few days, terrified at his lack of motor skills and how little he could understand. It was true that Japanese was being spoken all around him, but the sounds were so different and the dialect was so strange that he could only catch snippets here and there. When the time finally came for battle, yet more attendants strapped on his armor while he tried to hide his horror beneath a blank face. Without the memories of his past, he could not lead an army. He could not fight in a war. In the end, he died with an arrow pierced through his back, shot by one of his own soldiers.
Gasping for breath, and ears ringing, he woke in a plastic pod. He blinked away the blur to his vision and gripped his chest, waiting for the lingering pain to stop reminding him of the arrow that had been there only moments before. I see, he thought to himself through the pain. Should I die, I am simply sent back here. And with that, he punched the dates back into the pod controls, and closed his eyes once more.