A/N: Heyy. So I said that it would take me a while to update last time, but I posted the chapter only a few hours after that note. Oopsie, lol. Anyway-I really hope you enjoy this chapter.

Ship Warning for Rest of Fic: Zenitsu x Murata (smh I made this a thing, don't ask)

Um, I'm kinda starting to regret whatever the hell I just created, but y'know-oopsie daisy lol

Please enjoy (don't kill me for making this a thing)!

Tick...Tick...Tick...

A clock ticked in an all-but empty room. Only one person was there, asleep in a bed. It was a deep sleep-a rest of healing and something else that the simple mind would not quite comprehend.

It was something that transcended time itself.

Loud ticking is what greeted the blond slayer we know as Zenitsu Agatsuma when he finally awoke from his slumber. He couldn't remember what had happened before he "fell asleep," but whatever it was, drained him of his energy. He vaguely remembered a star and a boy with pretty eyes, but that was about it.

Zenitsu looked to the left of his bedside, finding the culprit behind the loud ticking. It was a little copper pocket watch, with its chain handing off the edge, swinging in time with the ticks. He picked it up and clipped it to the hem of his pants. Noticed what was on his hands. Then decided to give himself a once over.

When he looked down at himself, he found bandages around his arms. Then he realized they were on his face, too. And his legs. And around his head. And a bit on his torso, but not nearly as many as around his hands. All parts wrapped up burned slightly.

'EH-?'

It was disturbing, if one was honest, to wake up in a strange room, in a strange bed, apparently wounded-with almost no recollection of months before that.

Zenitsu was not feeling the greatest.

"WHERE THE HELL AM I-?!"

('AND WHY DOES THAT LINE FEEL SO FAMILIAR?!')

30 minutes later, the amnesiac slayer was listening (albeit terrified and confused) to a cranky old man going on and on about events and "memories" that never happened (at least, according to the teen).

"You don't remember getting hit by lightning?" The elder gazed inquiringly at the young man before him. "You don't remember me?"

Zenitsu shook his head violently. "I SAID I DON'T KNOW WHO YOU ARE," he screeched. "AHHH, NO WOMAN WILL TAKE ME IF I DON'T KNOW ANYTHING!" He gripped his supposed "Jii-chan." "YOU HAVE TO HELP ME...!"

The older bopped him on the head, fist connecting hard. "Get a grip, Zenitsu!"

"AHHHH, YOU'RE SO MEANNNNN! I'M A INJURED MAN! YOU CAN'T HURT SOMEONE INJURED!" He started to sob loudly. " SOMEONE HELP MEEEE-EEE! I'M BEING HARASSED!"

The teen kept screeching about one thing or another while tears and snot were dripping down his face in giant (and gross) globs. Nothing the mean older man did would make him stop. Hitting him made him cry harder, talking to him made him scream louder, and even just staring at him in exasperation made him press his hands harsher to his ears!

'Damn brat,' The-mysterious-elder-who-Zenitsu-definitely-doesn't-know thought. 'He never changes-amnesia or no.'

"What the hell is going on here?"

The old man looked up at the young man who entered the room. "Kaigaku."

The teen immediately straightened-anger still present but buried for the sake of his teacher. "Sensei."

Zenitsu didn't stop screaming.

"AHHHH, WHO IS THIS?! HE WANTS TO KILL ME, DOESN'T HE?! AIEEEEEEEE, OLD MAN HELP MEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

'I HATEEEEEE THIS PLACEEEEE!

GOD HELP ME!'

Forgetting decorum, Kaigaku turned angrily towards the screecher. "Don't fucking call Sensei an old man, you ass!"

"SO MEAN! EVERYONE HERE IS SO MEAN!"

"Both of you, cut it out!" "Jii-chan" meant that for both of them but glared only at Zenitsu. "Zenitsu, stop screaming!"

"BUT JII-CHANNNNNN...!"

The "grandpa" gave a small smile at the nickname. Then he frowned again. "You shouldn't be screaming! You should be letting yourself heal-and it's time for me to check up on your burns!"

The blond wasn't even paying attention to whatever the senile old man was saying-until he heard "time."

It was an odd feeling he felt at the word. It was a feeling like something clicked within him, something he didn't understand one bit.

'Time? What about time? Why does that word feel so...

important?'

...?

Time?

"I suppose it could be described as a soulmate."

Time.

"Just don't want to die alone, y'know?"

Time...

"You changed the timeline."

...

Time!

'OH, SHI-'

Zenitsu bolted up from the bed, startling both his better and teacher.

"Zenitsu, what are you-"

"What year is it?"

"Hah?" Kaigaku glared at him in confusion and annoyance. "What the fuck are you going on about now?"

"WHAT YEAR IS IT?" The blond had his eyes clenched shut.

'Don't look at them, don't look at them, DON'T LOOK AT THEM-'

"It's XXXX."

XXXX.

The year before the final selection-he had already taken.

The year before he first saw Tanjiro-who he was already friends.

The year before the last time he saw Jii-chan-though it happened already.

The year before he became a slayer-though he already was.

The year before everything went to hell-which it already had.

'I shouldn't be here, I'm dead, I'm dead, I'm supposed to be dead--'

He gripped his head. He felt too dizzy to stand, so he sat back down. Fresh tears pricked his eyes, his throat tightening. His body was on fire.

'This can't be happening-'

"Are you feeling alright, Zenitsu?" A weight landed on his shoulder. His breathing became erratic, air leaving faster than he could breathe it in.

'Don't open your eyes.'

"Oi, brat. Sensei's talking to you, so answer."

'They're not real, this isn't real, he's not real, I killed him, he's a demon, I KILLED HIM-'

"ZENITSU!"

Out of reflex, the boy snapped to attention, opening his eyes. He let out a small gasp.

Before him stood two individuals-two he never thought he'd see alive again.

Jii-chan.

Kaigaku.

Both dead, but somehow here. One angry, the other slightly worried.

Kaigaku wasn't a demon anymore. His taijitu/magatama necklaces and bracelets were yellow instead of blue, showing that he hadn't yet succumbed to the darkness.

Jii-chan was fine and wasn't dead with his stomach bleeding out. He wasn't like the letter had said he was. He was...alive.

It was all wrong.

Kaigaku was supposed to be dying, fading away into nothing more than ashes-bloody, dead, demon ashes. He should have been screaming angrily at being beaten by the scum he had killed.

Jii-chan shouldn't even be here at all. He passed long ago, nothing more than images behind Zenitsu's dying eyelids. If anything, he should be in a field of flowers, greeting his disciple with open arms and tearful eyes. Nothing like this.

Zenitsu...he was supposed to be dead. He shouldn't have talked to a star, seen Murata, seen Kaigaku, seen Jii-chan, seen anything. He shouldn't be here, back in time, before his final selection.

Zenitsu felt himself start to break down before the wails even began.

When Jigoro woke up today, he did not expect to deal with his sobbing disciple's amnesia. He did not expect Zenitsu to even have amnesia. Not that the elder knows anything about the effects of getting hit by lightning, but still-the boy woke up shortly after the event with his memory fully intact, so why would that change? It made no sense.

What made even less sense is how Zenitsu started having a mental breakdown for no reason apparent to his teacher.

His student had stood up, asking-in a grave voice-what year it was. Jigoro had been confused but answered anyway. He was more concerned about why the younger's eyes were shut tight.

As he answered, the retired hashira studied the blond's reaction. He was distressed and clutched his head like he was in the process of having the worst migraine of his life. It was profoundly unsettling. Even Kaigaku looked uneasy (though not enough to affectionate).

While trying to comfort the boy, he placed a hand on his shoulder to help ground him. Zenitsu had always found that sort of thing calming when he had a particularly strenuous bout of emotional projection. Though in this case, it did little to relax him. Instead, it made it worse.

The two eldest sensed the weight in the room before the sobbing started.

At first, it was only strangled sounds coming from the teen. Soon enough, though, the noises turned into sobs. Then the laments (sobs) turned into full-blown wails.

They were loud, like all other cries, but different. They were filled with despair, sorrow, and desperation-like Zenitsu had met the worst fate imaginable.

(In a way, he had, not that anyone else would understand how)

As Zenitsu wallowed and wailed, tears streamed down his face. Hiccups erupted from him, interrupting him mid-wail. Then, he would continue like it was nothing.

The teen's "Jii-chan" withdrew his hand, watching the anguish on his disciple's face.

"Zenitsu."

The cries continued.

"Zenitsu."

The blond hiccuped, then resumed.

"ZENITSU!" His teacher bellowed his name, finally catching his attention.

The cries stopped. Though the hiccups continued, the elder had finally gotten the attention he desired. The blond stared at him wide-eyed-tears still running down his face.

"Zenitsu, you're going to become a demon slayer in less than a year!"

(Which was a fact the teen knew all too well)

"You can cry, but what will make you brave is the ability to get back up from crying."

(The blond wondered how he could be brave when he's such a coward)

"So when you're ready, I'll change your bandages for you. Now finish up so you can heal!" The old man led the grumbling Kaigaku to the doorway.

"Never be afraid to cry, Zenitsu. Just don't let your fears consume you."

(But he's afraid they already have)

Then both his senior and his teacher left the room.'

Zenitsu was speechless.

Absolutely speechless.

'I just got berated by my dead teacher.'

'My dead teacher just gave me advice.'

"Jii-chan just comforted me," the blond said, echoing the only thought in his head. The most baffling thought ever created in his mind.

He started to laugh. It was somehow hilarious, in a twisted way. Not that it mattered at the moment. The teen was too caught up in his hysterics to notice the grim side of it.

It was laughable how Jii-chan had managed to snap him out of his funk so easily. Funny how his dead teacher still had control over his disciple.

Funny how Jii-chan still thought he could be brave. What a fucking lie.

Zenitsu's hysterical laugh heightened in pitch, echoing after two who were still just outside the doorway. He could hear how his sensei's heart rang with concern while Kaigaku's was only filled with discomfort and irritation.

It only made him laugh harder.

More than he had ever laughed before.

'My life sucks'

Soon his laughter dissolved into quiet sobs. Though he was still depressed over the fact that he traveled back in time, he wasn't grieving over it much anymore. The laughing and the crying had driven away the shock, enough for him to calm his mind.

He thought about his teacher's words.

"Just don't let your fears consume you."

His fears. His fears had always driven him before. Had always made him the weakest, the wimpiest, the most annoying. It was the source of his uselessness.

It was the reason why he was never strong enough to protect anyone. It was the reason why he died, why Murata died, why everyone around him had died-

It was all his fault.

Maybe he wasn't cut out for this "saving the timeline" stuff. Well, it wasn't a "maybe"-he definitely wasn't cut out for this! Even the star thought so and she had been so friendly to him.

But...

Tanjiro would have believed in him. Jii-chan believed he could be brave. Inosuke...would have anointed himself the best but would believe his "henchman" were strong enough to deal with anything!

Murata...

Murata had looked at him like he was the light of his life. His eyes had lit up so bright, Zenitsu's eyes burned, and his heart skipped a beat.

He bets Murata would believe in him. They'd have to believe in each other, wouldn't they, to do this? They'd have to have each other's backs and work together. All 6 of them will have to.

Without each other, the timeline will never be fixed. They can't expect to have peace without finding the perfect ending. Whatever that may be.

'We'll have to use our wits, brains, and determination. I just hope the others have enough of those to share...

because I sure as hell need all the help I can get.'

A year. He has a whole year to ready himself for the final selection. A year to hopefully change Kaigaku's state of mind. A year to train his body. A year with two people he never thought he'd see again on the side of the living.

A year before the real challenge starts.

Boy, did Zenitsu not know what the timeline had in store for him.

A/N: Yeah, I'm starting to regret this ship, but who cares? Not me lmao. At least, I try to think. But, um, I hope you enjoyed this chapter-wasn't that long. I'm also thinking about going back and editing and reposting chapters because there are already too many plot holes and inconsistencies I need to fix. I also kind of fixed how I wrote Zenitsu at the beginning. Making him less emo and edgy, and wimpier and absolutely fucking shaking in his big ass boots. LMAO ANYWAY-sorry for the long wait! Kinda got distracted by life and shit, so yeah. See you next time... ;)