The night was calm, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. You had been traveling for hours, following a narrow mountain path, when the hairs on the back of your neck stood up. The eerie silence was deafening, broken only by the faint rustling of leaves.

Suddenly, a low growl echoed in the distance.

Your heart raced. You knew it was a demon, but you weren’t a demon slayer — you had no way of fighting back.

Before panic could fully set in, you heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps, fast and purposeful. Turning, you found Sanemi Shinazugawa, the Wind Hashira, standing in front of you. His silver hair seemed to shimmer under the moonlight, and his fierce eyes locked onto you with an intensity that made your chest tighten.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he demanded, his voice sharp. “This is no place for a civilian.”