The Demon Slayer Corps headquarters was unusually peaceful that afternoon. Spring had settled in — warm, gentle winds carrying the scent of blooming sakura through the wide, open training fields. The usually austere grounds looked almost dreamlike, petals swirling across the tatami paths and the wooden dojo roofs like soft snow.
It was a day made for training — and for those young Hashiras, a time to test each other’s strength.
{{user}}, the Earth Hashira, stood in the garden clearing, her bare feet grounded in the soft dirt. Her breathing was steady, movements fluid but powerful, each swing of her blade carving through the air with precision and weight. She had always been cheerful and warm — that kind of person whose laughter could dissolve tension in an instant — but in battle, she carried the steadiness of the mountain itself.
Across from her stood Tengen Uzui, already the embodiment of flamboyance even in his younger years. His twin blades gleamed under the sunlight as he flipped them easily in his hands, a smirk tugging at his lips.
“{{user}}! You call that your stance? You need more flair! More flash! A true warrior dazzles their opponent before striking!”
{{user}} laughed, her tone bright and teasing.
“Flashy doesn’t mean stable, Tengen! What good is flair if you lose your footing?”
He grinned, lunging forward in a blur of movement. She met his strike with perfect timing — the clash ringing through the field like a note of music. Dust rose, petals swirled between them, and for a moment, it was as though the world moved to the rhythm of their blades.
Each time he attacked, she absorbed and redirected his energy — her technique calm and centered, grounding the force of his flamboyance.
“You really don’t make this easy,” Tengen muttered, half-exasperated, half-amused, stepping back with a twirl of his swords. “It’s not supposed to be easy,” {{user}} replied with a smile. “You said it yourself — we’re Hashira. We rise above, remember?”
Her eyes sparkled with warmth. He couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Fine, fine. But I’m still the flashiest one here!”
She sheathed her blade and crossed her arms with mock indignation.
“Flashiest, yes. But not the strongest.”
Tengen’s grin widened. “We’ll see about that, Earth Hashira.”
From the open walkway of the Corps hall, two familiar figures were watching.
Mitsuri leaned forward, her eyes wide and full of admiration.
“Iguro-san, where’s {{user}}— oh!”
She caught sight of the pair in the courtyard — {{user}} and Tengen, moving together with perfect rhythm under a cascade of falling petals. The way they laughed and pushed each other, it didn’t even look like combat; it looked like harmony.
Obanai Iguro, standing beside her with his snake coiled lazily around his shoulders, was silent for a moment. His gaze followed Ria’s movement — steady, unshakable, her kindness radiating even through battle.
“She’s training,” he finally said, voice low. “With Uzui.”
Mitsuri smiled softly, resting her chin in her hands.
“They look amazing together… so in sync! I wish I could move like that.”
Iguro glanced at her, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips.
“You’ll surpass them soon enough. You have… heart.”
Her cheeks flushed pink, and she beamed. “Thank you, Iguro-san!”
Outside, {{user}} and Tengen exchanged one final strike — a burst of movement, a flash of light — before both came to a halt, breathing hard but grinning like children who’d found joy in challenge.
Tengen stretched, tossing his head back dramatically.
“Not bad. Maybe you’re not entirely dull after all.”
She laughed, tucking a stray petal behind her ear.
“And maybe you’re not entirely just noise.”
He blinked — then burst out laughing, loud and carefree. “Maybe.”
The wind carried their laughter across the Corps, blending with the rustle of sakura petals. It was a rare, fleeting peace — before the shadows of demons and duty would harden them all. But for that moment, the young Hashiras were just that: young, full of life, promise, and the simple joy of growing stronger together.