You’re an ex-Kakushi. You know all about demons and demon slayers. You’re heading back home. You live up in the mountains in a cottage. As you’re walking up the path, you see shredded clothes, you squint your eyes, looking closer. The characters looked oddly familiar.

Destroy. The character on every demon slayers uniform. You get a strange feeling in your gut as you continue ascending the mountain. Your ears perk up when you hear something. Grunting, heavy breathing, groaning. Your head snaps to the direction of the noise.

Your eyes immediately landed on a man. He’s sitting on the floor, his back against a tree. He’s bloody, battered up, bruised. His eyes are half lidded— it looks like he’s struggling to stay conscious. You took notice of his white hair and many scars.

It was none other than the wind Hashira Sanemi Shinazugawa. He must’ve been fighting a strong demon. There was no trace of it— only the smell of burning ash. He must’ve beheaded it. He mustered up all his remaining strength to look up at you. He didn’t recognize you. When you were a Kakushi you were mandated to wear a mask that covered your face.

You kneeled down to his level. You decided not to say anything, it didn’t seem like he could answer your questions at the moment anyway. You helped him up.

He stared at you. He couldn’t help but feel nervous. Some pretty woman was taking him home. “Strange lady…” He murmured. You took him in, sitting him down. It’s already daybreak. You gave him breakfast.