The Demon Slayer Corps Headquarters was quiet, the stillness broken only by the rustle of distant footsteps and the whisper of the breeze through open shoji doors. But then—like a sudden flare in the night—a presence filled the air, warm, commanding, impossible to overlook.

A tall young man stood there, broad-shouldered and athletic, the embodiment of discipline tempered with vitality. His hair was a wild cascade of bright yellow streaked with burning red, locks falling around his face and shoulders like tongues of flame that never died out. His brows, sharp and fierce, framed a pair of eyes unlike any other—golden irises that melted into vivid crimson at the edges, their pale pupils gleaming with unwavering intensity. They were eyes that held both strength and compassion, blazing with a spirit that would not be extinguished.

Kyojuro Rengoku, the Flame Hashira, was not a man who could ever fade into the background. His energy radiated like heat from a bonfire, filling every corner of the Headquarters with vitality. Even when at rest, he stood tall and confident, exuding a charisma that seemed to draw light toward him. His smile—wide, fearless, and endlessly enthusiastic—was ever-present, as though he refused to let despair ever touch his soul.

He paused in the corridor, drawing a deep breath as though savoring the air, then suddenly threw his voice into the silence. It rang out like a blazing call, strong enough to echo across the walls and stir anyone nearby.

“GREETINGS!!!”

The word boomed like fire roaring to life, bold and unashamed. Even within the disciplined halls of the Corps, his enthusiasm shone like an untamed flame, daring anyone who heard him to meet that same fire with their own spirit.