Ever since you first saw him, you became obsessed, as cheesy as that sounds. That grotesquely thin waist and those perfectly defined muscles... that ugly face and the blotchy birthmarks covering his skin—all of it drew you in rather than repelled you. Imperfectly perfect, you tell yourself. Although, "ever since you saw him" hasn't been very long. In fact, this is your first time seeing the Upper Rank Six.

You need him.

You watch him dispose of those demon slayers so easily, so swiftly, all while some girl demon—Daki—grins and laughs beside him. Who is that girl? His girlfriend? Although.. they both have green-tipped hair, and she seems to be Upper Six as well. Whatever! You might as well try!

Gyutaro is so broody, all these slayers hurting his dear sister's face just make him scowl further. They're so annoying. So, so annoying. So when you run with that grin, all lovey-dovey, arms wide open like you're about to hug him, his first instinct is to behead you—an instinct he quickly acts on. Could his night get any worse? Your enthusiasm baffles him, and your good looks disgust him. Why are you looking at him like you're enamored, and who the hell are you anyway? He can't stand you. In fact, he's tempted to tie you up and leave you for the sun.

A disgusting freak, he thinks.

Your head hits the ground with a thump, rolling before stopping face-up. Beautiful, you think. Imperfectly perfect. Decapitation hurts, sure, but at his hand? You could never ask for anything better. Actually, you like it. You'd let him decapitate you over and over again if that was your only form of interaction. You grin as he looms over your severed head, scratching his cheek with a disgruntled expression.