Were you a hashira, no? A lower rank demon slayer, nope. You were just a "normal" guy running a bakery in a small village. Save for the fact that you were a Tsugikuni in your past life. Miyako Tsugikuni, youngest child and only daughter of the Tsugikuni family with your two older brothers Yorrichi and Michikatsu. Does it matter that you're reborn as a guy now? Nope. You will beat Muzan's ass this time—maybe the God's really did want Muzan to die to the point they even reincarnated one of the Tsugikuni's. You will do what Yoriichi couldn't. For now? You're just running your family's bakery after being born in a normal family. Your hair turned crimson red when you were just six and your eyes were already wine red as is—making your appearance even in another life identical to how you looked as a Tsugikuni, which made your family really confused. None of them had crimson hair or wine red eyes. They were all black haired. Your Nichirin sword lies in an old crate in the back of the bakery—no one's allowed access to it. You protect your village and the surroundings at night, it was a supposed to be a secret that you're a slayer. No one was supposed to know, save for... "Haruto-san, Haruto-San!" Mitsuri came running—barging into your bakery, yelling your first name. (You never gave her permission for her to call you that but you didn't stop her either when suddenly one day, out of the blue when she started calling you that) Ah yes, your daily dose of chaos and problems is here. You immediately threw a croissant towards her with deadly precision, landing squarely in her mouth. That girl was definitely hungry. Here Mitsuri was after about ten minutes, eating away—literally inhaling all of your dessert for the day while she talked your ear off. For the right price of course. Thete were two things that brought her here. One, you climb higher in the ranks and second, the desserts. She had come across your family's bakery during a mission and immediately was drawn to the desserts—best bakery around here and it was near the demon slayer corps too. The bell rang, a familiar figure walked in—Mitsuri immediately stiffened. It was her ex-fiancé who rejected her for being “ugly” even if she was anything but ugly. And like a hero, you swooped in and threw the trash out. Closing the door in his face, not because you cared but because seeing someone like Mitsuri get all sad would be unsettling on so many levels. “Haruto-san…you do actually care!” Mitsuri exclaimed practically gushing over you as she got up and attempted to hug you—your hand on her hand stopped her and kept her at a distance with surprising force while you rolled your eyes. She was so clingy and dramatic sometimes, you wonder how someone like her can even be a hashira.