A/N: HELLO AGAIN! I am back :)

I also have more details about Hanae. She has no haori (for now) and has neon blue tabi socks. She also has on dark blue laced zori, the soles being a lighter blue. She really likes blue, lmao. She also intends to get herself a haori, but as of now, she remains without one. Hanae wears one lone black glove on her left hand. The fingers on it are cut off. AAAHHHH, I LOVE HER SO MUCH!

Please excuse my fangirling over the most badass character I've ever created (besides Yumi, but y'all don't know who the fuck she is), and enjoy this chapter!

(Also, please excuse the fact that I may not be making Murata as canon as possible. This whole fic completely diverts from the original anime/manga, especially considering we hardly see Murata, and now we see everything from his perspective. Big oof on my part. Good thing the "Kimetsu No Yaiba Fan Wiki" exists! What better way to get information on a hardly shown character than on a wiki run by people who analyze and reanalyze things dozens of times? That sounds like a good deal to me!)

"Ughhh..."

Murata opened his eyes to see faces hovering over him. Three he recognized.

(Bloody eye sockets. Sad goodbyes. Awkward interactions.

The past converges with the present.

The past converges with the future.

Time had become his enemy and friend, guiding him along a journey, one he didn't know the extent of. His destruction was imminent.

The loops would break him.)

'Wait...huh?'

He bolted up from the futon, making those around him jolt back in surprise.

"Where am I? I shouldn't be here-I shouldn't be here, OH GOSH, I SHOULDN'T BE HERE-" The young man held his head as he curled into himself.

'What the fuck, I time traveled, I time traveled, I thought It was-I don't know what I thought...I wasn't thinking anything! Hanae should be dead-I saw her eye sockets, I saw the blood, I saw her body-'

"I should be dead," he croaked out. His eyes burned with tears, his skin crinkled and cracked, his back ached, he lacked strength-he was dying, Murata could feel himself dying all over again, and it was terrible, absolutely terrible-why did he have to come back-

What did he possibly do to deserve this punishment-he didn't do anything! He was only himself, and perhaps himself wasn't the best, and he should've acted differently, and now he had to fix too much with too little, and it was all confusing-

"Murata!" A voice called out to him. It pulled him from an onslaught of phantom feelings and brought him back to earth. He looked to the side at the person who grounded him.

"Hanae-san...?"

The snow-haired woman stared at the man before her. "I don't know what's going with you, but what I do, is that you shouldn't let whatever happened to get to you! You must move forward. Accept the past, and move on. Now please, calm down and let the doctor finish his check-up on you."

She leaned forward in her futon and whispered words only he could hear. "When they're done, you can talk to me about whatever's bothering you, alright?" She flashed him a gentle smile before leaning back and letting the doctor do his thing.

As Murata followed the doctor's instructions, he looked around to find a place he remembered. He recalled resting here for a few days after the..." incident." He recognized the middle-aged woman who took care of him. Abiko-san-was what she said to be called, right? Murata recognized the doctor also. He had carefully tended to his mild injuries before...before...

"Hey, hey! Don't go back into your funk!" Hanae once again snapped him out of his downward spiral of thoughts.

'Gosh, what would I do without her.'

Well, he'd go into a cycle of madness before the actual trial even started. Ha ha, what fun times that'd be for him (no, it would be terrible, Hanae, don't let that happen, please)!

A few more minutes passed-the doctor's examination was seemingly over. "Well, Murata, your ankle was fractured in 4 places, broken in one. It will take at least...4 months to heal."

He gasped. "Four months?! But-but I have things to do! Demons to slay!" 'A timeline to save.'

"I know, I know, your duties must be prioritized. But for now, your only priority is to get better.

Try not to think of anything too stressful-it will put a mental strain on your brain. Just rest regularly, and you'll be fine. Do not move your ankle unless absolutely necessary, or instructed by me or another doctor."

The doctor began walking to the doorway. "Don't forget to thank your friend over there. If it wasn't for her, your ankle might've taken longer to heal or healed incorrectly." Then, he left.

Abiko-san bowed, told them lunch would be ready shortly, and left.

Almost everyone left.

Leaving Murata and Hanae in the room.

Alone.

Where Hanae might beat him up if he didn't explain anything.

No one spoke for a while, especially not Murata. No, of course not, Murata! He didn't want to be interrogated! He didn't want to let out all of his deepest darkest worries and secrets to a woman he hardly knew! Was it tempting? Yes. Might he feel better afterward? Definitely. Will he?

Maybe...

...

His skin crackled like fire. His back ached and seared and pain. His head pounded. His heart burned. His ankle crunched, and his arm was slashed. His eyes were gone, his leg was ripped to shreds, and his NECK bled from the wound he didn't know was there.

Murata knew those wounds were gone. He knew the pain from the wounds he does have are gone. He knows he never had the rest of the wounds in the first place. But they still hurt. They hurt like they were his own, they hurt like when he first got them, they hurt like he still had them. But he didn't and knew didn't but his head was throbbing, mind whirling, and it was hard to 'think straight.

Hard to separate feelings from phantom feelings. Hard to think, hard to want, hard to need, hard to save, hard to BE.

He was a coward. A coward. After he slew the clawed demon before, he screamed because he didn't know how he did it, and he was terrified to do it again. It yelled at him again and again and again, mad about how he dodged most of his hits, at how he died. It was mad-oh so mad. Then he wandered aimlessly for his partner and found her with her eyes plucked out of her head.

"I'll kill you too!"

All Murata could do was cry over her dead body 'till morning, when the Kakushi came to deal with the carnage. Murata never thanked Mochi for that, did he? He never thanked her for getting help. He never thanked her for snuggling up next to him as he cried. He never thanked her for her help with anything that day. He was too caught up sobbing, mourning, and locking that memory within his mind.

Weeks later, if you asked him about the incident, he wouldn't even know what you were talking about. He wouldn't even remember who the heck Hanae was. His brain locked away everything-Hanae's smile, her laugh, her scolding, her stories-everything. Only years later did he ever remember a woman with flowing white hair, a wind-chime laugh, and a smile as bright as a thousand suns.

His heart warmed whenever he thought of her. He basked in the soft gaze his memories brought him and ignored recollections of plucked eyes and mourning screams. He tried to forget how he had stabbed and cut and hit what remained of the demon's head as it screamed unintelligible nonsense at him.

"I'll kill you too!"

He decided to forget how Hanae's body was still warm. He didn't dwell on the memory of his screaming and kicking and sobbing as the Kakushi tried to lead him to the wisteria house. He deliberately forgot how they had to knock him out and forcibly carry him there, all the while, he kept waking up from nightmares, screaming and thrashing on someone's back.

Murata made sure to apologize to them when he had the chance. The Kakushi assigned to help that morning were all visibly uncomfortable standing in the same room as him. Only one managed to verbally accept his apology. The rest only hesitantly nodded or hummed in affirmation.

He'd never been more embarrassed in his life. Well, the Mount Natagumo incident might be debatably worse, but that happened WAY in the future.

...

"Well? Are you going to explain, or are we going to sit here all day?" Hanae sat up and stared dubiously at the boy in front of her.

"R-right! Um, well...what do you want to know...?"

"Before, in the forest, you said something about you "time traveling." Then you fainted. What was that about?"

'Straight to the hard questions. Gosh, she hasn't changed. Still blunt as ever. Did nearly dying do nothing to her personality?'

"I-um...Well...going straight for the hard questions, aren't you?" He laughed nervously, keeping his gaze away from her face. If he looks at her, he knows he'll spill every secret he had.

"Murata, look at me," she said softly, turning his head with a hand to his cheek. "Murata."

Once his eyes landed on her face, he almost cried. They were filled with such warmth, such patience, that it almost reminded him of his mother. The way she cradled his face when he was little, how she laughed when he cooed at her while babbling random toddler nonsense.

Hanae reminded him of his mother. Maybe that's why he cried so hard when she died. So much blood spilled from her head, just like the head wound on his mother. Everything smelt metallic, tinted red. The woods were stained with the blood of Hanae. Of his family.

The forest was stained with Hanae, with his mother, with his father, with younger and older sisters. All dead and gone. Except, Hanae wasn't gone. She was right here, staring at him kindly, patiently, like she could wait a lifetime for him to be ready. The same way his mother looked at him when he was sad and wouldn't tell her why.

Tears slipped down his cheeks. Hanae reminded him of his mother. The fact hit him hard, not in the gut, but in the heart. The tears wouldn't stop and neither would the memories. He remembered every single time his mother looked at him like that, every time his father did, and his older sister. He remembered the times he looked at his younger sister like that.

The memory flow kept going, faster and faster, his tears falling more and more. His lip quivered, and he shut his eyes tight. He leaned into the touch, and for a minute, he could pretend he was four again, his mother kneeling before him, cradling his face as cried about his scraped knee.

He felt like he was home again. He hadn't felt like that in a while. The last time was before he died-during the breaks in the Stone Hashira's training. His muscles burned, and his body ached, but as he was squished in the pile of guys around him, all laughing while shoving onigiri in their sweaty faces, he felt at home. He might not have been impressive, cool, or strong, but they liked him, and he liked them. They were family.

Hanae felt like family.

"Murata...are you okay?"

"No," he sobbed out. "I'm not. I'm really not, but I can't explain anything- it's all too confusing, but I want to, and really sorry for crying you just remind me so much of my mom it makes me cry, and I think of you as family though I hardly know you and I shouldn't be here, I am, and you should be dead, and I should be dead, but we aren't, and I'm frustrated and confused and..." The boy took a deep breath. "And I don't what to do."

Hanae only sat there, wide-eyed, as she tried to absorb everything he had said. Then, she smiled once more and pulled him in for a hug. She pressed his head against her shoulder, paying no mind to how wet it was getting.

"Since this is so hard for you, why don't you tell me in the morning? Today has been stressful, and the doctor said to try not to get stressed. I'm sure your story will be easier to tell after some rest and a stomach full of breakfast, yeah?"

Murata nodded into her shoulder.

"Now, I think the best option for you..."

Murata listened intently.

"...is to cry."

To cry? Murata had already cried so much, how could he cry anymore? Even so, he found himself sobbing into the shoulder of his better, clutching her like the lifeline she was. Without her, he's sure he'd have already given up. He'd have no one to lift him up from the darkness already surrounding his heart. He wouldn't have the shoulder he desperately needed. But he saved Hanae, so he cried into the shoulder she presented to him. He held nothing back.

Abiko glanced worriedly at the doorway to the kitchen.

After the doctor finished checking up on the boy, she left to make dinner for the two healing. As she was in the middle of cooking, she heard loud wailing. She had walked out into the hallway, trying to figure out what it was, and realized it was coming from the bedroom.

It was the boy. His name was Murata. The wails and sobs she heard were so full of pain, that she felt pity for the boy. Whatever happened to him must have been terrible to warrant such a reaction.

She almost wanted to go in there and comfort him, but she didn't want to overstep her boundaries. Besides, she's sure his friend would comfort him. Hanae (the girl's name) had been so worried about him when she brought him in, unconscious. She almost strangled Abiko when she said the doctor would be a while.

Luckily, Abiko had medical experience (and supplies) and was able to stabilize him until the doctor finally came. She also helped the girl, who for once during the whole exchange, didn't try to choke her out.

The wisteria house caretaker took both plates of food in her hand and gently knocked on the door. The sobbing stopped, replaced by loud sniffles.

The door opened, and Abiko bowed. "Sorry to interrupt, but I have dinner."

Hanae smiled and took both plates in her hand, and bowed back. "Thank you very much." Then, she stood straight a leaned forward. "I apologize for my rudeness before. I was quite upset, though that is not a reason to have taken my worry out on you through anger." Hanae bowed once more.

The middle-aged woman appreciated the apology and accepted it, no questions asked. Then, she turned on her heel, heading to the kitchen to clean up.

Murata wiped his nose with his sleeve, trying to wipe away any trace of his crying session on his face. His eyes were swollen, cheeks burning with the wetness of tears. A headache was coming on, and every part of his body ached.

The boy still managed, having experienced worse pain (pain he finds himself reliving every night), and tucked into the food Hanae had handed him.

It was all absolutely delicious, and he gobbled it up in one fell swoop. He sighed and patted his belly (lmao). "That was delicious!"

Hanae nods while she continues to eat her food. Her pace was much slower than Murata's as she was only a quarter through the meal. She took more time to savor the flavor. And she probably didn't want to choke while trying to inhale it like air, as Murata did.

Well, sucks to suck.

He hummed happily, fiddling with his sleeve. After crying so much, he felt much better! He cried most of his sadness away, and if he ignores the problems long enough, he finds himself in a semblance of a happy mood.

Kinda like a rabbit being stalked by a wolf.

ANYWAY-he's not going to let anything ruin his mood today! Forget about death, time travel, the Hashira, the timeline, Zenitsu-

Zenitsu.

Wait, wait, wait, wait-

Zenitsu.

Zenitsu Agatsuma.

He forgot about Zenitsu.

'Oh my gosh, I forgot about Zenitsu.'

Zenitsu, the one who had died with him. Zenitsu, the one he could have (but didn't) save. Zenitsu, the one who looked happy when he saw Murata standing there in that black void. Zenitsu, the only one of five he knew would help him.

'I've messed up. Oh, I've messed up bad.

But does it really matter either way? He doesn't know where Zenitsu is, how to find him-he might not even be a demon slayer yet! That's assuming he even time traveled with him. That may be likely, but it doesn't change the fact that there's a chance he didn't! It sucks, so maybe he did something to spite me! But..well, he WANTED the timeline to be fixed. He isn't THAT petty, right?

I'll probably have to wait until Mount Natagumo. It's frustrating, but I can't just, like, SEARCH for him. Who would I ask? How would I take that information and use it correctly? The best decision would be to wait. I'll have to wait SO LONGGG though. I can't do anything by myself! I'm not special, I'm NORMAL! Zenitsu, help meeeee.'

Murata continued to rant to himself, even as they readied themselves for sleep, all the while Hanae stared at him in concerned bewilderment.

'Alright, you can do this, Murata. It's easy. Just think of it as telling a...bedtime story! Yeah, a bedtime story! Just like the ones you used to tell Aito!'

The boy breathed deeply.

"Um...well...once upon a time, there was a boy."

Hanae raised an eyebrow. "Isn't it too early for a bedtime story?"

Murata looked down, embarrassed. "I guess."

She laughed lightly. "Well, might as well continue."

He nodded and did as she asked. "He was a demon slayer just like us. He wasn't strong, or cool, just normal. He blended in with everyone else and did nothing out of the ordinary. Just a normal demon slayer in a crazy world. He used to be a normal boy, but a demon changed everything. They always change everything. They take, and take, and take, while we give, and give, and give. With no one left, and nothing left, the normal boy became a normal demon slayer.

He slew demons normally. He held himself normally. His water-breathing was nothing special. Hell, he went to first selection with a hashira, and he was still nothing special. Life was as normal as it could be for a demon slayer. That was until the incidents started happening. There was a really big incident, one burned in his memory for years to come. It was the only warning as to what other incidents were coming in the future.

He had been on a mission, with a clawed demon. He got it mad, causing it to use all of its strength on him. He got wounded, but because of the demon's weakness, he managed to slay it. He didn't know he did. He just move,d and then the head was rolling away. It screamed profanities at him, crying and yelling. It was pitiful. The boy wandered around, wondering where in the world his partner was. When he found her, he wished she had stayed lost. Another demon, mad that she had beaten her, tried to take you-I mean-her down too."

Hanae's brows furrowed at the slip-up.

"It had plucked her eyes and tore her leg to shreds. Blood was everywhere, a-and it stained everything, and it was all too much, so the boy cried. The demon's head was still dying, so the boy hit it. He hit again and again until he couldn't anymore, and then he cried. He cried and sobbed as red filled his vision. Even when it was morning, and the Kakushi came, he didn't stop screaming and crying.

He apologized to those who had to deal with him that afternoon."

Murata stopped talking, trying to even out his breathing. He wasn't even close to being done, and he was already breaking down. Pathetic.

Hanae stared at him. She was obviously conflicted and confused. He knew she recognized the events, except the last part. Because it didn't happen this time around.

"Way, way, WAY later, years after that incident, another one came up. Mount Natagumo. Low-ranked demon slayers kept going missing after being assigned to the mountain. The boy was in the next batch to be sent there.

Dead bodies surrounded them as they went up the mountain. Some recognizable, others mangled beyond recognition. Suddenly, a slayer turned and started killing the others. A few dead bodies rose, and others began to be controlled too. The boy was yet to be, so he fought against his friends. More and more low-ranked sayers came up the mountain, none yet to go back down, victorious. That was, until, 3 more low-ranked slayers came up the mountain. Tanjiro Kamado, Inosuke Hashiraba, and Zenitsu Agatsuma. Red, blue, and yellow. A trio more powerful than anyone could imagine.

The boy felt targeted when Tanjiro and Inosuke fought alongside him. Inosuke was blunt and rude, which offended the boy as he was ranked higher than them.

Turns out, the slayers were being controlled by spider webs, like puppets. It was horrible, and the boy felt disgusted just thinking about it. Inosuke and Tanjiro pushed on, leaving the boy behind to fend off the puppets. A while later, all of the puppets dropped.

The boy continued moving, finding himself in a place with hanging, silk, cocoons. Only a few moments passed before a small girl demon revealed itself to him. It trapped him in a cocoon, explaining in gruesome detail how he would die. It was filled with acid, and he would melt away until all that was left was his melted corpse.

The silk was too strong to cut. He was going to die. Or, rather, he would have died, if he hadn't been saved by the Insect Hashira, Shinobu Kocho. She cut the cocoon with ease, revealing the boy, alive, but...

...naked..."

Hanae snickered behind her hand, while Murata glared at her, cheeks tinted pink in embarrassment.

"Don't laugh! It's not funny!" He whined at her, annoyed at her giggling.

"Ha, ha, sorry, sorry. Continue."

He huffed.

"As I was saying, the boy hid in the bushes, rendered unable to fight on."

He ignored the loud laughing.

"Eventually, the Kakushi found him and gave him something to cover up until he got another uniform. Afterward, he went to an Hashira meeting, where the Hashira questioned him for hours, and Kocho-sama teased him while interrogating him.

Then..."

Murata continued telling his story, eventually unknowingly changing his words from "he," and "the boy," to "I." He talked for hours, and he only finished late in the night. He cried 5 times during the whole ordeal (he was proud of himself for holding back), and Hanae listened intently the entire time.

"Right, and all of this is true?"

He nodded.

The woman looked to the side thoughtfully before looking Murata in the eye. "Alright, then I'll help."

"Y-you'll, what?"

"I'll help you, 'save the timeline'!"

Murata's jaw dropped. "You want to help me?"

She nodded. "Of course! Seems fun." She flashed him a goofy lopsided grin. "Plus, I think you'd need a wing woman."

"'Wing woman?'"

She giggled. "Oh, you'll see why soon." Hanae winked at him before laying down and pulling the futon blanket over her.

'Wing woman? Like, a wingman in romance novels and stuff? But why would I need that?'

Murata's eyebrows furrowed as he laid down with one thing on his mind.

'What is she talking about?'

A/N: Is that Murata-lore I smell? SNIFF, SNIFF. I think it fucking is! Ahah, I based this off of the Kimetsu No Yaiba Wiki. Hanae and Murata's relationship is a mother and son (fight me on that, I fucking dare you), Hanae senses romance, and Murata is confused and oblivious. Life is good.

How are all of you, by the way? I hope you're all alright. :)

Anyway, I don't really have a plan anymore. Kind of, but not really. I'm just rolling with the punches and letting my imagination fly. One day I might re-write this so that not only the writing will be better, but the plot itself and the characters. I must ask that you pardon any mistakes I make. I'm not really that good of a writer, and I have a habit of not planning for anything. Oopsie lol. Eventually, I'm sure a story will form. For now, WE'LL GO CRAZZZYYYYYYY!

See you all next chapter! Love you! ;)