a/n:
Here's all the obligatory dimensional travel setup stuff we all gotta get through, hopefully it'll get more interesting later. Also, if you see any medical or general inaccuracies, you didn't. Pretend you didn't notice.
I wondered why modern kny aus shared a lot of similarities. Should've realized that there were some shorts released about everyone but in modern school, and I'll probably draw a bit from it.
The sound of rage.
He didn't even know that the insect hashira was capable of hatred this intense. Normally she seemed to suppress it under a soft smile, but this fight, no, that demon had drawn it to the surface.
However, beyond that sound, the fading ring of defiance pierced his ears as her blood-soaked body merged into the demon.
"Ow!" Zenitsu cried as a sudden sting hit his cheek. Gasping, he whipped around to face the perpetrator.
"You had an elevated heart and breathing rate," stated a female voice in a matter-of-fact tone. "But more than that, your face was telling me you were probably having a nightmare."
He stared at her in mute shock.
The scary irregularity in her voice was gone. Rage didn't suffuse her. But, that kind core underneath - that remained.
Just a dream, he thought as tears began to bead up. Even as Shinobu's eyes widened from surprise, he couldn't stop a few from rolling down his cheeks.
"Agh, I'm sorry! I'm a little confused right now so please ignore me!" he flailed.
"Ah. Okay?" she replied, still slightly off-kilter. "Usually patients start crying after the diagnosis, not before it."
"Don't say things like that so casually! You're being scary!"
That snuck a truncated laugh out of her. Getting freaked out might have been worth it, actually.
Shinobu then locked her gaze onto him straight on. Normally, he would've welcomed the attention, but the sky-high levels of curiosity in her expression quickly raised the hairs on his neck.
"Now then, since we've had a little warm-up chat, let's move on to the real matters of business here," she asserted.
Eh, does she mean tending to my injuries?
"My specialization may be pharmaceuticals, but it's not like I lack interest in other medical issues, especially rare ones. If you're lucky, someone might ask to do a case study on you!"
Scary!
"But I'm getting ahead of myself." She tapped on her clipboard. "Agatsuma Zenitsu. You would agree that's your name, right?"
"Of course, Miss Shinobu?" he replied uncertainly.
"That is a bit odd, you know," she insisted. "I've looked you over and did some poking around, but the Agatsuma we have on record… well, unless there have been impressively massive errors in recording patient information, you cannot be him."
She narrowed her eyes, and Zenitsu gulped.
This Shinobu was markedly different from the one he was familiar with. Her sound was less complicated and she made fewer attempts to disguise her genuine feelings; in fact, she was being actively and naturally expressive. But even after all of that, there was no way this wasn't her.
The image of her body being absorbed by a demon rose unbidden from memory. He shook his head to clear it out as the sound of footsteps outside the door grew in volume.
He was saved from responding to Shinobu's prodding when the door creaked open.
"Gramps! Why'd it take you so long to get here?" he cried.
Shinobu simply waved. "Hi, you must be his grandfather. If you don't mind, I'll be asking a few questions to both of you."
"Yeah, it's probably a bit too late to hide whatever funny business is going on here, so I might as well get it over with provided that you'll keep your mouth shut," he said, no heat behind his words.
"No worries," she assured. "Whatever I hear in this room, I'll keep my lips sealed unless someone might get hurt."
The two then turned to Zenitsu, who squirmed under the newfound pressure.
"Uhmm?"
Gramps kicked it off first. "So, kid. Who exactly are you?"
"Huh? You already know who I am," he deflected.
"Let me phrase it better," she interjected. "We already have a boy by your name who shares far too many similarities with you. Yet it's highly improbable you're an identical twin as that would mean you were also struck by lightning, not to mention you claim the same first name as well."
While more articulate, the man seemed mildly annoyed by her takeover regardless. "There's another thing bothering me too. Though I've never met you before, you seem to know me anyway."
Zenitsu was left to sit and stew for a moment.
The closest experience to whatever might be happening occurred during the Mugen Train incident where that weird dream-train demon sucked them into a dream world. If he recalled correctly, there wasn't a single moment where he wasn't filled with glee, nor did he question what he was seeing.
It was peaches, sunshine, Nezuko, and happiness the whole way down.
Inosuke didn't achieve consciousness until Nezuko got to him, and Zenitsu didn't even want to know what the nut was dreaming about. He himself didn't wake up till Rengoku was already dead.
Tanjiro though, he thought with a shudder, was different. I could never do something like that. Even if I realized, I could never have killed myself even if it was a dream.
There was one major difference between now and then. A constant sense of discomfort pervaded him just by existing here. If a demon was causing this, then they were doing a shitty job keeping him unsuspicious, which paradoxically made him relax a bit.
A pair of slender fingers snapped in front of him, startling him out of his thoughts.
"Hello, are you still with us?"
Zenitsu stared at her blankly. With no preamble, he spoke in monotone. "I passed out after a fight and then I woke up here. Where am I? Actually, throw a 'when' in there too. This can't be the Taisho period since everything looks too advanced."
The sharp clatter of metal on tile rang out as Shinobu's pen hit the floor. "Taisho?" she echoed,
⁂
Today was officially one of the strangest days he's had this month, Zenitsu decided.
It all started when gramps returned home with an uncharacteristically dazed look on his face. The next day, gramps didn't even haul him out of bed at 7 a.m. for his daily bout of suffering. It seemed like Kaigaku didn't get the memo and had already gone out for a jog, so he had the house all to himself.
As the most unlucky, cowardly person he's ever known, he'd already learned not to count his blessings before the day was over, but even he couldn't anticipate what came next.
"Zenitsu, meet your new fake twin brother, Zenitsu."
The blond stranger gave an obligatory "hi."
…What? he thought.
"The hell?" he said aloud.
Neither of them seemed to heed his plight as the man continued in his usual no-nonsense tone. "It's the easiest way to make this look less suspicious. Just say your unknown lost twin cropped up in an orphanage and as the adopter of the first twin, I snapped up the other one too. Simple."
"Not in the slightest! How did this even happen?" he screeched.
"We just need to forge some papers. I have a few connections," he stated with no further elaboration.
"Please explain what's going on! And you," Zenitsu shouted, pointing at the lookalike, "who are you?"
The lookalike flipped him a thumbs up while stealing Zenitsu's signature neutral frown. "I'm you but not really. I don't know what's going on, so don't bother asking me. Also, gramps doesn't know either, so asking him isn't going to help."
"Aghh! Then what will?" he groaned, ready to tear out his hair.
Suddenly, a terrifying thought struck and with a renewed vigor, Zenitsu threw himself at his grandfather's feet. "Are you here to chase me out of the house and take my place? Gramps, you're so cruel for letting him in!"
That finally got the stranger's eye to twitch. "Ha? If you don't stop saying all that weird stuff then I might!"
A fist swiftly landed on his head and from the sound of it, the other boy wasn't spared. "Would you two shut up for a minute!?"
Twin indignant cries filled the air, and the man palmed his face in irritation. Zenitsu knew should've felt a little bad, but he'd already built up years of exposure resistance and would very much like some pity for himself.
Any speck of guilt instantly flew out the window as the man shouted, "If you're both going to keep that up, I'm going to change both of your names instead of letting one of you keep yours!"
Like the calm before the storm, the sound of a pin dropping would've been thunderous in the wake of that statement. Gramps preemptively slapped his hands over his ears.
"Ehhh!? It's my name! Why should I have to give it up?" the two shrieked simultaneously.
"If I had any doubts you two weren't the same person, they would've been thrown out the window at this point," he muttered more to himself than the duo, swiftly walking out towards the front door. "I'm not dealing with this. I'll just pick something."
A sudden alarm took over the lookalike as he shouted, "Wait! Don't go!"
Undoubtedly, his grandfather had heard the plea even as he disappeared from sight, but he seemed to actively speed up after the words left his lookalike's mouth. The other him then slumped in defeat, fight draining out of his posture as a bag dropped out of his hands.
Zenitsu stared at the curiously lumpy bag, "What's that?" he asked, pointing at it.
"Oh, that," the other Zenitsu mumbled. "My clothes are in there."
A realization struck as he recognized how ill-fitting his current clothing was, almost as if it was bought in a hurry with no regard to fashion. "Then why are you wearing that?"
"Because my old stuff got all ripped up and dirty so I can't, duh," he replied as if he was stupid for even asking.
Rude. "Fine then, the trash is over there," he replied, gesturing at a nearby bin.
"I'm not throwing it away," the other said with an abrupt sharpness that seemed to surprise even himself.
Okay then, maybe a touchy subject somehow.
Quickly, he shifted topics. "So, what names do you think gramps is going to choose?"
"There can't be much worse than 'Zeni-two' and 'Zeni-one,' at least," the lookalike said, shrugging. He quickly recognized the oddity of the names and elaborated. "Shinobu from the hospital suggested it. It was shocking to hear something that stupid from someone so smart and pretty."
The two shuddered at the thought of being legally named a pun.
"See? I was right. We should have gone after gramps. Then, we wouldn't have to sit here wondering like this," said the other him.
"Maybe we should have," Zenitsu conceded.
Other him clenched his fists. "This is so unfair," he complained. "We shouldn't have to change our names like this. It's one of the few things I've managed to hold on to over the course of my short, turbulent life."
"Exactly! I'm always getting pushed around and being dropped in all sorts of horrible situations! And now I feel like I'm gonna die from gramps' insane training!"
"Yeah! What kind of injustice is this? Be nicer to us!" they shouted simultaneously.
A moment passed before Zenitsu spoke up. "You know what? I had my doubts about us being the same. Pretty heavy doubts actually. But, maybe I wouldn't mind having you for a brother."
He nodded to his fellow comrade. "Same. You can't be half as bad as Kaigaku," he said lightly. A second later, the expression on his face darkened noticeably.
"Say," began Zenitsu, "now that I think about it, how awful is your world's Kaigaku?"
The reply was instant. "Horrible. Whatever yours is like, mine is infinitely worse."
By that much? Doubt it, Zenitsu thought. "Hard to beat a guy like him in a meanness competition. Plus, he's always going on about how a gold medal Olympic runner shouldn't have to waste his time on me."
"What are the Olympics?"
"...Are you some kind of insane country bumpkin?"
At this point the two fell into an amiable chatter, talking about each others' worlds. The other Zenitsu's home was a far cry from his own. It was almost like some twisted historical fiction mixed with horror and fantasy tropes.
Zenitsu could hardly imagine taking up a sword himself, and he was endlessly grateful that his grandfather never forced him to take up something that dangerous. In comparison, his modern world seemed pretty dull, despite the enraptured stare the other returned at every new piece of information.
"The cars here are so sleek and rounded, and they're quieter than what I'm used to. I still think I can go faster than them though," he claimed when they were talking about new transport technology. Apparently he'd ridden on a train with a pretentious-sounding name before.
"Ha, good one," Zenitsu had responded good-naturedly, even when a disgruntled huff answered him back.
Honestly, if it wasn't for the hollow, terrified emptiness that cropped up on his face and occasional bouts of genuine shell-shocked reminiscence, everything would've been far more difficult to swallow.
Aside from that, he could hear it. He knew the sound emanating from his other self better than anyone else, and it told him everything he needed to know.
Maybe not the car thing though. He's pretty sure the guy just hasn't seen them at top speed.
"Ah," other him piped up abruptly, "Gramps is back."
Zenitsu hadn't even heard of the arrival until the other brought it up. That was pretty quick, all things considered. He watched as gramps walked in with a small stack of papers and placed them on a table.
His grandfather turned to face them. "Alright, I'm sure you both would love to hear what I picked-"
"Not really," Zenitsu interjected.
"I'm sure it sucks," the other him added.
A vein popped up on the man's head as he plowed on. "It's nothing crazy, but I just decided to stick to something a bit familiar, so I just divided your first names," he explained. "The new Zenitsu is Zen and ours is now Itsu. I've kept your last names the same, of course."
"That's better than Zeni-one or Zeni-two, but that's already an incredibly low bar. What a sad thing to beat," Zen replied. Itsu nodded in tandem.
"Be grateful for what you've got, brats! If you really want to change it that bad, we can do it later!"
The two directed the most withering glares possible at him. Itsu was certain he contributed at least 51% of its power.
The man scratched at his hair in irritated contemplation. "Maybe I should've kept you both separated. Just one of you is enough to drive me up a wall."
"Maybe you should've let us keep our names," they countered.
Gramps planted a fist on his hips. "That's too confusing and suspicious! Things already appear strange enough already."
"We'll be the only people to call each other the right thing in this harsh world! Isn't that right, Zenitsu?" Itsu shouted.
"That's right, Zenitsu!" replied Zen.
Sighing deeply, the man dropped down on the nearest chair and said, "These kids are going to give me a premature death by aneurysm."
It was all going so well. But without warning, Zen's sound sent a jolt to Itsu's system.
Instead of being annoyed and resentful like before, this was a chaotic mix of anger and… guilt?
The doorknob jiggled.
Slowly, it swung forward to reveal a familiar figure.
Unphased by their newest guest, gramps waved a greeting. "Oh Kaigaku, I'm glad you're here. We have a new member of the family."
⁂
Contrary to what Itsu and Kaigaku might think, Jigoro was completely aware of the strained relationship that existed between them. However, whatever was going on between Zen and his Kaigaku seemed to be on a whole new level.
"So, what you're telling me is that there's a new Zenitsu, and he's from another world. You want to take him in to raise as your third grandson."
"That's right," the man confirmed.
Kaigaku crossed his arms and leaned his back on the wall. With a huff, he said, "Alright. I won't say anything for now, grandfather."
The boy's disbelief was almost palpable, but Jigoro counted this as a success. He almost expected him to react far more negatively than a restrained, incredulous statement.
On the other hand, Zen had barely said a word the entire time despite most of the conversation centering on him. He just seemed to alternate between staring blankly at nothing, or so intensely into Kaigaku's eyes that even the latter shifted unconsciously in discomfort.
At this point, Itsu looked like he itched to escape the oppressive atmosphere, and Jigoro had no idea what the hell was going on with Zen.
In an act of mercy, he dismissed them to their own business and watched them wander off. All of them except for-
"Zen, you don't have to stay here right now, you know?" Jigoro stated. "You can go lay down to recover."
Zen hadn't moved an inch. "I don't want to."
Strange. Itsu would take every opportunity to slack off if he could. "Well then, I guess I can get you set up now. You can pick any of the free bedrooms on the second floor."
"Okay," he replied curtly, ascending the stairs. As he surveyed the selection, he asked, "Where's Kaigaku's room?"
"Over here," the man said, gesturing to the room closest to the staircase.
Promptly, the boy walked to the furthest room across the hall. "Can I have this one?" he asked.
Terse responses because of Kaigaku were one thing, but Jigoro had never seen such a blatant show of dislike come from Itsu before. It was jarring.
"Don't be so rude to your senior, Zen," he asserted.
Zen twitched, then stilled himself. "Okay," he said again. "I'll try not to be."
The man pulled some old blankets out of storage and flung them over the unoccupied bed. This was shaping up to be more trouble than what he signed up for.
Guess I didn't read the terms and conditions. But then again, I was never the type to read before signing something, he thought with some amusement.
"When do you do laundry?" Zen asked out of the blue.
"Usually on Sundays and Thursdays, but if you need something cleaned immediately, you can do it whenever," he explained. "Wait, you don't know how to use a washing machine, right? I can show you right now."
Zen nodded and followed him to the washroom. Somehow, the boy had grabbed his bag of clothes without him noticing and began pulling out some socks, a white undershirt, a pair of black pants, and a black button-down. Curiously, a huge "destroy" was splashed across the back that Jigoro knew Zen would never willingly wear, no matter the world.
More concerning was the amount of blood staining most noticeably staining the white shirt, and the ripped-up state of the clothing overall.
Did he really come here in that? It looks straight out of a warzone.
Once again, Zen reached into the bag and took a bundle of yellow rags. Seemingly uncaring of its condition, he dropped it into the pile.
"Are you sure you need that? The other clothes might be potentially mendable, but this one is completely shredded."
Zen paused for a moment. Eyes glazing over, he just replied, "Someone important gave them to me. He'll never give me another one. I don't think I'll get another."
Jigoro just nodded, and he pointed at which button to press.
a/n:
You know, it's funny that if you're the one creating something, you sit there for hours and hours typing and at the end you can't even tell if it's good or not in the end