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Chapter One
▏CINNAMON▕

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➟ A FEW YEARS LATER

"What a weird trend."

(L/N) (Y/N) spent a lot of her time in the modern  lying on the bed of her apartment and scrolling through her phone.

She was in her last year of college, and God, she was incredibly lazy. But it made sense, though—she felt like there was nothing for her to do after all of this, and that feeling had been there for awhile now.

It wasn't like (Y/N) had forgotten her past life from centuries back, though. In fact, the memories had also returned to her in a dream a few years ago on her eighteenth birthday.

The only difference with her past lover was the fact that she had no one to confirm her dream with with.

Hakuji had Kyoujurou and his past fellow demons to confirm the visions he saw in his dreams, but (Y/N) had no one. She didn't personally know any other demons or Demon Slayers in her past life, and they did not know her, so who could she even turn to for something like that?

And therefore, she thought that everything she saw was just one, long, fictional dream.

What didn't make sense to her, however, was how she remembered every little detail of it, as if she was practically living in it. Every touch and every sound just felt so real, and her senses adjusted accordingly to them.

The man named Hakuji—later called Akaza as a demon—in her dreams was someone she felt subconsciously in love with.

She could not get the vision of him out of her mind, even if she wanted to. It was almost like he was eternally imprinted in there, or like she was supposed to find him.

But he was just a figment of her dream state, right? There was no way he could be real.

(Y/N) let out a tired sigh as she scrolled through various clickbait videos of people dialing random phone numbers.

Calling and texting one's "number neighbor"—also known as the number directly one above or below your own—was now the new trend. Video stars were pranking other people, or staging fake accidents.

It was honestly so stupid, and yet, she could not help but consider doing it.

With absolutely nothing better to do, (Y/N) exited the video app, and opened up the dial.

This was just a harmless test and trial, right? After all, she could always just hang up if she met some creepy person who spelled out trouble on the other end of the line.

She quickly inputted her own number, but changed the last number to a single digit above her own.

As the phone began to ring against her ear, (Y/N) rolled over so that she was laying with her back against her bed and so she was staring up blankly at the ceiling. After a few seconds, she head ruffles on the other end of the line, signaling that the person had finally picked up the phone.

"Hello, number neighbor!" she greeted a bit excitedly.

There was more choppy shuffling on the other side—which was rather loud, in her opinion—but not yet a verbal response.

"Hello?" the recipient finally voiced.

The voice of the man at the other end of the line was clearly a deep, gruff one—it sounded like he smoked a lot within a single day, or got into trouble. (Y/N) could instantly assume that it was probably a much older man.

"You're my number neighbor!" she explained happily, wanting to at least sound polite despite the other's gruff tone; though, she lost a little interest at the sound of the man's voice on the line. "Your phone number is one number directly above mine."

After a bit of a pause, the man replied, voice even rougher and lazier than before, "Number neighbor, eh?" An assumption that the man was smoking on the other end was a very likely one just by the way he spoke.

(Y/N) kept silent for a bit, staring at her ceiling a bit anxiously as she awaited the next response.

"Anyways," the man continued with a struggle, and it sounded like he was getting up from his seat. "You got a pretty little voice, don't you? And since I tend to like 'em young; how old did you say you were again—"

(Y/N) hung up at a record speed.

She sighed.

Why did she have to dial a creep, of all people?

While she did have another number neighbor, she wasn't so sure now if she should pursue it. This first one just made her lose almost all her prior motivation.

Then again, she could always just hang up immediately if something like that were to happen like before. However, something like that would just completely ruin her already-lowering mood.

In the end, it took a bit of self-convincing to actually push herself to do this again.

Muttering curses under her breath, (Y/N) quickly got to dialing the line directly one number below her own.

At this point, she honestly wasn't expecting much—that first one really lowered any expectations she previously held. So when her phone stopped ringing, and the other side picked up, she was far less enthusiastic.

"Hello, number neighbor!" she greeted bit more tiredly.

"Hi?" the voice on the other line returned reluctantly. He sounded like a young man, his voice clear and refined.

Thank God, (Y/N) inwardly rejoiced, but voices can still lie. She internally reminded herself to be cautious.

However, if anything, this voice sounded a bit familiar to her. But it was kind of hard to tell since the phone line made it very difficult to hear, though.

The young man continued with a nervous chuckle, "I'm lost."

"You're my number neighbor!" (Y/N) explained, a bit hopeful that she actually called a normal person this time. "Your phone number is one number directly below mine."

"Ah, I see," the man mused. He suddenly let out another innocent, lighthearted laugh, and remarked, "So that's why I thought I was calling myself for a moment."

"Aw, then I should've pretended I was you from the future," (Y/N) joked, causing the other man to laugh. "Well, number neighbor," she began again, "can I get your name?"

"Ah," he sighed out awkwardly, and it seemed like he was scratching the back of his neck. "I don't really give out my name to people I haven't seen in real life."

"Wow, already playing hard to get?" (Y/N) jokingly flirted, to which the young man on the other line chuckled back. "Then I guess you aren't getting my name, either."

"That's only fair," the man passively shrugged.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes at his seemingly uncaring tone, before remarking, "You better not be some old creep that's using a voice changer, or something."

"I should be the one telling you that," he laughed on the other end. "You were the one who called me, after all."

"Oh." The girl almost smacked herself for forgetting that little key detail. "Right." After the young man playfully teased at her small mistake, she continued, "You wanna meet up? We have the same area code, after all."

"Uh, are you sure that's safe?" the young man questioned hesitantly. "What if I'm some insane murderer that's going to kill you, or something?"

She lightly scoffed, "Weren't you reassuring me that you weren't using a voice changer just a moment ago?"

"True," he admitted. "I'm down, but you should definitely be more careful."

"Whatever," she brushed off. "I'm gonna hang up, so we can text about the meetup details. I work at a coffee shop we can go to together—if that's okay with you?"

"Sure!" he agreed. "Oh, and don't get any ideas!" he quickly exclaimed as a final remark. "This isn't a date, or anything like that."

"Of course it's not," she confirmed.

(Y/N) then pressed the red button to end the call before any of them could speak another word to each other. Then, she opened up her messaging app to text him the address and her time schedule.

"Not a date at all," she mumbled to herself.

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