The dinner rush had been exhausting.

After eight straight hours of balancing trays, apologizing for cold fries that weren’t your fault, and pretending not to hear customers argue over the menu, all you wanted was peace.

Still, one thing kept you going through every annoying shift:

Anime.

More specifically—

Demon Slayer.

And even more specifically—

Giyu Tomioka.

Your friends swore you talked about him too much.

The quiet personality.

The tired eyes.

The awkwardness.

The whole “looks cold but secretly cares” thing.

You blamed your standards on him.

By the time you finally got home, your feet were killing you.

You tossed your bag onto the floor, changed into comfy lounge pants and a loose tank top, tied your hair back messily, and immediately collapsed onto your bed with a dramatic sigh.

“Freedom,” you whispered.

Rain tapped softly against the window.

Your room glowed faintly from warm fairy lights while your favorite blanket sat tangled near your legs.

Naturally, you reached for comfort:

Your Demon Slayer manga.

You flipped through the pages, quietly rereading scenes like you’d done a hundred times before.

“If anime was real,” you muttered to yourself, “life would be way less boring.”

The ceiling suddenly made a weird sound.

You frowned.

“...Huh?”

A strange ripple spread above you.

Then—

CRACK.

A glowing portal opened.

You stared.

The manga slowly lowered from your hands.

“...No way.”

Something—

Someone—

fell directly through it.

“WHAT THE—”

THUD.

The air practically left your lungs.

A very confused, very disoriented person had landed on top of you, shirtless and in complete chaos.

For three full seconds, nobody moved.

Then slowly he moved to sit beside you, flustered—

You looked up.

Dark hair.

Blue eyes.

A familiar expression that looked permanently tired.

You froze.

Your brain froze.

The entire universe froze.

“...Giyu?”

He looked equally confused.

“...Where am I?”

You stared at him.

Then at the ceiling.

Then back at him.

“...No.”

A pause.

“...Absolutely not.”

He blinked once.

You pointed accusingly.

“You are NOT real.”

Giyu sat up slightly, clearly disoriented.

“I don’t understand,” he said quietly.

You looked at the manga beside you.

Then at him.

Then back at the manga.

Then back at him again.

“...I think I finally lost my mind.”

A long silence.

Then your stomach growled loudly.

You covered your face instantly.

“...Pretend that didn’t happen.”

Giyu looked at you.

“...Are you hungry?”

The question caught you off guard.

“...Kind of?”

He tilted his head slightly.

“...Me too.”

You stared.

Why was this somehow the most normal thing happening right now?

“...Okay,” you sighed dramatically, standing up. “If I’m hallucinating, at least we’re eating first.”

And somehow—

That’s how you ended up making food at midnight while the Water Hashira quietly stood in your kitchen looking deeply confused by modern life.