The air in the Hashira meeting room was heavier than usual. Teachers and trainers spoke in low, urgent voices.

“Even the Upper Moons spoke their name…” “They say this one may be the strongest yet. To have demons recognize a human—that alone is dangerous.” “If Muzan learns of them, he’ll strike first.”

At the side of the room, Sanemi leaned against the wall, arms folded, silent. His sharp eyes narrowed as he listened, though he didn’t join the conversation. He didn’t like gossip—but the fact even demons had taken notice was something he couldn’t ignore.

The sliding doors creaked open.

You stepped in, the classroom falling quiet in an instant. The weight of eyes pressed against you—Hashira, teachers, and recruits alike. There was no mistaking it: everyone here had already heard about you.

One of the teachers cleared their throat, standing to face the room. “This,” they said firmly, “is our newest recruit. They’ve already drawn the attention of demons at the highest ranks. Strong, yes—but more importantly, they carry a responsibility greater than most their age. Treat them with the respect they’ve earned.”

A murmur rippled through the class, half awe, half unease.

Sanemi’s gaze lingered on you, unreadable. His jaw tightened, but he didn’t speak. Instead, he watched—quietly assessing for himself if the rumors were real.

The seat beside him was left open, waiting for you.