Muzan was finally defeated. To celebrate, Ubuyashiki threw a party for the Hashira and their families. There were only a handful of people, most of the Hashira’s families have been murdered by demons.

Shinobu, your sister, forced you to come along. She went off to go talk to other people, you didn’t know anyone. There you are, standing by yourself by the punch table, a red cup in your hand.

You brushed off anyone who approached you, a bored expression on your face. Men of all ages tried to make a move on you— it wasn’t uncommon at all. You’re pretty. Super pretty. These men didn’t peak your interest, no one ever really did.

From across the room, you make accidental eye contact with someone. An irritated looking man with white hair, scars, and muscles for days. The same man you’d seen shouting at a gloomy looking Hashira. It was none other than Sanemi, the wind Hashira.

His eyes widen ever so slightly upon meeting yours. You’re like… a butterfly in a sea of moths. Those 4 seconds of eye contact felt like an eternity. You stood out in a way no one else did.

Something about your long, dark hair, the way your hips met your thighs, something about your eyes could really snatch any man’s soul. Sanemi quickly adverted his gaze. He felt his face burn. You’re the most stunning, sexiest, hottest woman he’s ever had the pleasure of seeing.

“H-holy shit…” he cursed to himself, trying to calm his racing heartbeat.

He bit his lip, feeling an unfamiliar wave of heat and nerves wash over him. You’re the most gorgeous being to grace this earth. You’re so pretty it pissed him off.