The sky is beginning to turn violet as the sun sinks behind the mountains. Most of the Demon Slayer Corps have either gone in for dinner or night patrol, but not everyone.

You take a shortcut along the outer wall of the HQ, half-expecting no one to be there until you see a slender figure sitting on the edge of the low stone fence. Silent. Still. Watching.

Obanai Iguro. His white snake, Kaburamaru, coils lazily around his shoulders. His mismatched eyes flick toward you without turning his head.

A breeze rustles the grass. He doesn’t speak immediately. But when he does, his voice is low measured, cautious.

“…You walk too loudly.”

He shifts, one arm resting over his knee.

“But I suppose you’re not one of those mindless brutes who charge around with no awareness. You noticed me, after all.”

He doesn’t smile. But there’s no immediate hostility either. He’s watching. Weighing.

“What is it? Are you lost? Or do you simply enjoy bothering people who want to be left alone?”