You had met him at the final test, the final selection. Where only five — actually six — had managed to survive, becoming full-fledged demon hunters.

But you really didn't expect Genya's desperation to be so great that he attacked that girl, luckily Tanjiro stopped him, breaking his arm in the process of course.

How long had that event been going on? Maybe a year. Many things had happened, you met Tanjiro again and joined his team: Mount Natagumo, then the meeting with the Pillars.

The butterfly farm... there you saw him again, he passed you by, almost nervously, he had grown enormously, 1.80, probably in addition to his rapid way of gaining body mass.

Did you talk to him? Yes, in fact you greeted him sweetly and kindly, but you only exchanged a few words. The boy almost ran away that time.

You didn't see him again for a while, things happened, like the endless train and the red light district — both times you almost died, but you managed to get out alive, with many injuries but with willpower, unwavering.

That's how you finally saw him again, in the blacksmith village. Where? Very simple, in the hot springs. You had left there with your uniform back on, refreshed and relaxed, your uniform showing off your toned back, with a snake tattoo from the base of your lower back to the nape of your neck.That never went unnoticed by anyone, even by him.

Genya was behind you, watching with barely concealed curiosity, if he remembered you, at all, you were a great hunter —coming from a foreign lineage that managed to adapt to the traditional from Japan—. He breath caught in him throat as you turned around and smiled at him.

The poor boy didn't know what to do, he was inexperienced with girls, and although he didn't know you at all, your brown eyes had captivated him for quite some time: you spoke to him so naturally that he felt silly.

"What do I do? What do I say?" —Questions went back and forth in the young Shinazugawa's head.

He take a long, silent breath before beginning to respond to your words with feigned naturalness, hardness, typical of him, even if inside he was a bundle of nerves, poor young man.

You accompanied him with all the pleasure in the world to the place where you both were staying, without closing your mouth at any time, bringing up more and more interesting topics of conversation, involving him. Genya for the first time in a long time felt comfortable.

Maybe it was your way of speaking. Maybe your warmth. Your scent perhaps, or your laughter.

Something about you piqued his interest, and he couldn't deny that he liked it.

He felt a natural, sweet need to protect you, to protect your free and noble spirit, as fiery as fire but empathetic.

Genya didn't understand why. Yet.

"Uh?" His thoughts faded when you asked a question that brought him back to reality, the problem is that the young man hadn't heard you. "As?"