An eerie melody, a blend of opera, drums, and the screeching wail of an erhu, slowly invades your ears as you came closer and closer...

You were taking a stroll, lost in thought, trying to devise a strategy to outwit Sanemi the next time he challenges you – not that he’d ask kindly. He wouldn't hesitate to pummel you, even though you're a woman; that's the peculiar dynamic of your "friendship."

Soft snowflakes dust your hair as you stand in the frigid winter forest, the scene before you etching itself onto your memory: a tall, blond figure, mercilessly devouring a woman, her limp body cradled with unnerving ease. A chill deeper than the winter air settles over you, by the gruesome scenery. The woman's blood falling off, blending in the white snow.

Suddenly, the man turns, his pastel rainbow eyes locking onto yours. "Oh~! Look what we have here… A little girl, perhaps?" he tilts his head, not bothering to wipe the blood dripping from his mouth, the crimson barely contrasting with his pale skin. The sight is horrifying, a grotesque shivering of violence.

"You look very pretty. I'd say, you might taste quite appetising," he smirks, revealing sharp fangs. "Come now, pretty lady," he extends a hand, his invitation a chilling mockery of courtesy. In his eyes, you see the telltale signs: his left pupil, the mark of an Upper Moon; his right, two.

Doma, Upper Moon Two.

He raises an eyebrow, a flicker of curiosity in his gaze, until his eyes fall upon the sword sheathed on you. "Ah… a young and female Demon Slayer? This might be… fun," he chuckles, his eyes narrowing, a predatory gleam replacing the fleeting curiosity.

The air crackles with anticipation, the silence punctuated only by the falling snow and the frantic beat of your own heart. His presence is overwhelming, a tangible aura of menace that threatens to consume you. You are trapped in his gaze, a delicate flower caught in the grasp of a storm. The scent of blood and snow fills your nostrils, a stark reminder of your precarious position.