Chapter Text
Reincarnating into Demon Slayer was already the punchline of a cosmic joke. But it wasn’t just any reincarnation—no, fate had to go full improv comedy.
Instead of waking up in the relatively manageable Taisho Era (trains, electricity, hot sword-wielding weirdos), you’re unceremoniously yeeted into the Sengoku Era — because why make things easy when you can barely tell a kimono from a yukata? — or aka the “Die Screaming” era, where the air smells like blood, human rights are just vague rumors, and modern survival skills are as useful as a spoon in a sword fight.
And as if time-travel whiplash wasn’t enough, you're not even a background extra from canon. You're Ōzora [Name], a character so nonexistent that even the author's footnotes haven't heard of you. Forget OP cheat skills or plot armor; you've got awkward timing, historical ignorance, and the creeping suspicion that the gods are using your life as a comedy sketch.
So good luck surviving demon-infested Japan with only historical incompetence, sarcasm, and your rapidly declining mental health to keep you company.
Thank you for picking up this story, and welcome to SHINYA.
First of all, thank you.
Genuinely. Sincerely. From the depths of my over-caffeinated heart.
Whether you stumbled in here because the premise sounded interesting, were lured by the promise of pretty men with swords and a tragic backstory, or simply have a chronic weakness for reincarnated protagonists who scream internally 97% of the time—welcome. You're here. You're doomed. You’re one of us now.
Which brings me to my next point: I’m so sorry.
Not because this story is bad (jury’s still out, but I’ve fought tooth and nail with adverbs, passive voice, and every version of “he looked at her with eyes”), but because by opening this story, you’ve strapped yourself to a centuries-spanning emotional carnival ride—complete with demons and demon slayers, historical accuracy you absolutely cannot and shouldn't verify, reincarnation angst, and one (1) deeply exhausted modern soul trying to survive feudal Japan with a personality built entirely out of sarcasm, regret, and poor coping mechanisms.
And second, I'm sorry again.
For those who have been readers for months or years at this point, because guess what? SHINYA | 深夜 is finally getting edited! Yes, for real this time. Hold your groans (or don’t). After years of re-reading the same paragraph and convincing myself “typos are a stylistic choice,” I’ve decided to sacrifice my peace of mind for the greater good. That’s right. Editing. Rewriting. Fixing timelines. Clarifying motivations. Upgrading angst. Descending into chaos. Again. But better. People are kissing (eventually). Emotional trauma is now evenly distributed across the cast like a responsible author™.
So if things feel shinier or messier than you remember—it’s because I went feral in the Google Docs at 3 a.m. and decided to let consequences happen.
Cue confetti, kazoo noises, and another round of 'I am not mad, just disappointed'.
SHINYA | 深夜 is, at its core, a love letter.
To beautiful tragedies. To stubborn people who don’t die when they’re supposed to. To reincarnated disasters who refuse to stay in the background. It’s about memory, found family, fate, grief, love, and what happens when you drop a sarcastic, modern soul into feudal Japan with no survival skills, no plot armor, and a personality that offends the local demon lord just by existing.
There will be violence. There will be breakdowns. There will be demons, trauma, accidental emotional confessions, and bad flirting.
Oh—and yes. There will be romance. Of the slow burn, deeply repressed, “ if they don’t kiss soon I will astral project into the fic and force it ” and “touch-starved slow burn with mutual pining and unresolved sexual tension so thick it violates OSHA regulations” variety. Obviously.
With love, delusion, and exactly three brain cells,
—The Author; Lilly
(Still emotionally recovering from Yoriichi.)
- MAIN CHARACTER • Ōzora [NAME]
Our dear Protagonist, meaning you, the Reader, will be addressed as Ōzora [Name] or by their nickname, Hime.
A reincarnated soul thrown into Sengoku-era Japan because the universe decided it was funny. No cheat skills. No chosen one destiny. Just vibes, trauma, and bad luck.
Ōzora, meaning "(literally) big sky, heavens, firmament, the blue," derived from a combination of 大 (oo) , meaning "big, large," and 空 (sora) , meaning "sky, heaven." The second kanji can be substituted with one that has the same or similar meaning(s) to 空, like 天 or 宙, the latter usually read as chū , meaning "space, (mid)air." Source
Despite me; being a little artistic gremlin and adding artworks to some chapters as if it's a OTOME Game CG, there will be no descriptive features of [Name], such as skin color, body type, hair color, etc., except that she does have a white hair strand and, spoiler alert; a demon slayer mark.
- More Information coming soon
- LOVE INTERESTS ♥
Yes, there are multiple. Yes, there will be emotional damage. Yes, this is slow burn .
There are Main Love Interests (who are doomed) and Secondary Love Interests (who are also doomed). Some may move up. Some may fade away. Reader input will affect this, so blame yourselves when the angst hits or our girl hits the 'I'm single as a pringle and nobody can stop me' phase.
Main Love Interests
- Coming Soon
Secondary Love Interests
- Coming Soon
Lastly, a note.
This story is inspired by canon, fan theories, and that weird era before the manga ended when we were all feral and afraid. It’s available on Quotev, Wattpad, and AO3. If you’re here, I’m honored. If you’re new—welcome to the spiral. If you’re returning—welcome back to the madness.
Demon Slayer © Koyoharu Gotōge // Ōzora [Name] © lillyhoplodrina