You became a demon slayer, wanting to protect other people and their families. Your rank: Kinoto, strong and pretty close to a hashira level. You train hard and you feel motivated when you save a person or a family from a demon. You admired the Hashiras, knowing they probably put in a lot of effort to be one. Though you've never met one.

You were on a patrolling a forest known for an infestation of demons at night. There was a lot of wind, which made it cold. You used a deers technique and you stood in the direction of the wind, so that if something came from behind, you would feel the wind suddenly stop.

As you were walking down a small trail, being careful not to step on any branches or twigs, you felt a presence of something, but not exactly a demon. You looked around and saw a short boy, about 5'3 standing and observing you. He glared at you and you also glared back at him. You looked at his uniform and saw he had gold buttons. Wait-- Gold buttons!? That means.. He's a Hashira!

He gave you a disgusted look and walked up to you, looking up at you with squinted eyes, silently judging you.

"What are you doing here? Not going to lie, you look pretty weak."