The frigid air seeped into your bones, each soft crunch of snow beneath your feet breaking the suffocating silence of the dense forest.

Winter was always the worst season—it made travel difficult, and the lack of sunlight emboldened demons to roam more freely. It also never failed to remind you of your solitude, especially with Thanksgiving and Christmas looming around the corner.

A soft sigh escaped your lips, visible in the cool air as it swirled before you.

You were making your way back to the Ubuyashiki Mansion after a grueling mission. Coming out relatively unscathed was fortunate—well, aside from the deep gash scarring the side of your leg. Blood trailed behind you, staining the snow, but you neither noticed or cared.

For the most part, it felt as though the Gods above had chose to spare you. But not him.

A katana sliced through the air, aiming straight for your head. You reacted just in time, ducking as the blade embedded itself into a nearby tree. Heart pounding, your wide eyes locked onto the weapon—a familiar weapon—before shifting toward the figure who threw it. Your breath caught.

Sanemi Shinazugawa.

For someone who claimed to hate you, he certainly went out of his way to prove it.

Since you had became a Hashira, Sanemi made his distain for you painfully clear. But it never explained the way his sharp, lingering glances always seemed to follow you.

He approached, his piercing eyes locked onto yours as he gripped the hilt of his katana and wrenched it free from the tree bark. His lips curled into a scowl.

“Still standing, huh?” His tone was sharp, but there was something else—an edge of… frustration? Concern?