The early morning fog settled around the distant mountains. Giyuu Tomioka, the quiet yet skilled Water Hashira, had just finished his patrol, moving through the dense forest with practiced ease. His eyes, sharp as ever, scanned the surrounding area, but his focus was interrupted when a rustling sound drew his attention.

Tomioka's gaze narrowed, his hand instinctively resting on the hilt of his katana. Out of the mist emerged a young slayer—no older than sixteen, perhaps, and yet her stance was one of someone much more experienced. Her eyes were fierce, determined, though something about her presence felt heavy, weighed down by a past that was only just beginning to unfold.

Tomioka: (She mastered techniques other new recruites struggle with.)

Tomioka spoke, his voice as calm and steady as ever, but there was a hint of curiosity in the way he assessed her.

"What’s your name?"

He studied her, trying to gauge her experience. Her skill was undeniable, but something lingered in her aura, a sorrow he knew well from his own battles. Yet, he said nothing more, waiting for her to speak of her past if she wished. He was no one to pry, yet if she were to be a part of the Demon Slayer Corps, she would need to overcome it.

But she moved pass through him, as if she's chasing something.

"It doesn't matter, Water Hashira." She said flatly as she disappears.

Tomioka watched her figure blend into the mist as she moved past him, her steps quick, like she was hunting something or running from it. His gaze remained steady, unwavering, but a quiet thought tugged at him.

Tomioka: (Chasing something...)

He didn't follow her immediately, instead pausing, considering her words. The way she said "Water Hashira," with a mix of indifference and determination, unsettled him slightly. It wasn’t often that a slayer spoke so casually to a Hashira. Most were respectful, or perhaps a bit intimidated by his presence. She clearly wasn't.

But the way she disappeared into the mist, like something was urging her forward, made him wonder. There was a quiet intensity about her that reminded him of his own struggles—a darkness that drove her.

After a long moment, Tomioka finally moved, his body gliding through the trees with practiced silence, keeping just enough distance to observe. He would not intervene unless necessary, but there was something about this young slayer that compelled him to follow.

"You're not alone in your pain. Remember that."

His voice was barely a whisper in the wind, a sentiment he couldn’t shake, though he knew it would go unheard. For now, he would simply watch and wait.

Little did he know, she heard him, and she's aware that he's following her. She just acts like she doesn't, but she has to "get rid of him" —make him stop following.

"I've known that bullshit way too well." She thought.

Then out of the blue, with calculated persition and old dead tree falls towards him. Dodging the tree, he slips on the wet mud, he was saved from falling of the edge by sticking his katana on the ground, preventing him from falling... And yeah, he lost her.

~ ~

The moment the tree fell, Giyuu's instincts kicked in. His body moved quickly, dodging the heavy wood with ease, but the muddy ground beneath him betrayed his footing. He slipped, and in a fluid motion, he drove his katana into the earth, halting his fall just inches from the jagged edge of the cliff.

For a brief moment, Giyuu hung there, his muscles straining as he balanced himself. He could feel the slight tremor in the air, the weight of her presence now gone. She had escaped, once again.

Tomioka: (She's skilled... too skilled.)

His thoughts were steady, though a rare flicker of frustration tugged at the edges of his mind. He had expected some resistance, but she had evaded him with such precision. There was no doubt now—He didn't need to be told. He understood the weight of that kind of escape.

He carefully withdrew his katana from the ground, rising to his feet. The mist hung thick in the air, but his focus was clear now—he wasn't just chasing after a slayer. He was chasing after someone who carried a burden heavier than most.

For a brief moment, he stood still, listening to the silence where her footsteps once were. Giyuu's eyes narrowed, but his expression remained calm. He wasn't going to push her further. Not yet.

Tomioka: "If you need help... you know where to find me."

His voice was low, carried away by the wind as he turned back toward the path he'd been following. He would wait for her to come to him—when she was ready.

The forest had gone eerily silent, save for the distant rustling of leaves in the wind. Giyuu stood there for a moment longer, his sharp eyes lingering on the path where she had vanished. He could still feel traces of her presence—her lingering intent, the calculated nature of her escape. It wasn’t just skill; it was experience. And that troubled him.

Someone that young shouldn’t move like that. Shouldn’t think like that.

He sheathed his katana with a quiet click and turned away. Chasing her now would be pointless; she had made sure of that. If she wanted to disappear, she would. He knew the type. He was the type.

~ ~ ~

A few days passed.

Giyuu carried on with his usual missions, eliminating demons as he traveled from village to village. But his mind, despite its usual quiet, kept drifting back to that girl. He hadn’t reported her to the Corps—there was no need. She wasn’t a deserter, nor a threat. Just... someone running from/to something. Someone who had chosen to carve her own path, much like he once had.

Then, late one night, it happened.~

A small village near the mountains—too quiet. The scent of blood lingered in the cold air. Giyuu's grip tightened around his sword as he stepped through the empty streets, his breath visible in the night. He had been tracking a demon rumored to haunt this place, but the eerie stillness told him he was too late.

And then—movement.

A lone figure stood in the middle of the street, illuminated by the dim lantern light. A girl.

Her.

Her nichirin blade was stained red, her stance rigid, her breathing steady but... strained. And at her feet—bodies. Demon corpses, dissolving into nothing. She had already done the work.

"You again."

His voice was calm, unreadable as ever. He didn’t reach for his sword. He didn’t need to. She wasn't an enemy. But the way she stood there, tense and still, as if expecting something from him, made him pause.

"Leave..."

She said like a quiet warning. Her sharp amber eyes glow like orbs.

Giyuu didn’t move.

The wind carried the scent of blood and ash between them, but his focus remained on her. Her stance was tense, her glowing eyes sharp—like a cornered animal ready to strike, not out of malice, but necessity. A warning, not a threat.

But he had seen eyes like that before. Eyes that had nothing left to lose.

"You're wounded."

It wasn’t a question. He could see the slight tremble in her fingers, the way her chest rose and fell in controlled but heavy breaths. The fight had taken something from her, even if she refused to show it.

Yet, her blade remained at her side. She wasn’t attacking him—just trying to push him away.

He understood. He should leave—But he didn’t.

"Why were you running?"

His voice remained level, almost indifferent. But there was a weight beneath it—something unreadable. He wasn’t asking out of curiosity. He was asking because he saw himself in her. Because he knew what it was like to be alone, to believe no one else would understand.

The village was empty now, the demons slain. There was no reason for her to stay. No reason for him to stay.

But he waited.

Before she could respond.

Another demon appears, it was drawn to that place by the smell of blood.

"I said leave!"

She shouts. Blocking the demon from him, wishing he would leave this to her.

The demon lunged its claws slicing through the air with deadly speed.

But she was faster.

With a sharp turn of her blade, she intercepted the attack, her movements precise despite her injuries. The impact sent a shockwave through the empty streets, dust rising in thin clouds around them. She gritted her teeth, her stance unwavering, refusing to let the demon pass her—Refusing to let Giyuu interfere.

He could have left—But he didn't.

There was no hesitation as he unsheathed his blade. The quiet hum of his Nichirin sword cutting through the air was almost lost beneath the demon's snarls. He wasn't going to let her fight alone—not when she was already bleeding, already exhausted.

Giyuu moves in one fluid motion. He was beside her, his sword raised.

He didn't ask for permission. He didn't wait for her approval. He simply acted.

"Water Breathing... Third Form: Flowing Dance."

His blade cut through the demon's flesh in a graceful arch. Water-like movements, flowing seamlessly with hers. The demon barely had time to react before his body twisted from the force, staggering back.

But it wasn't dead yet.

Giyuu didn't glance at her. But his presence beside her was firm.

"I don't take orders from you."

His voice was calm, resolute. She could fight him all she wanted, push him away a thousand times. But here, in this moment—he wasn't leaving.

"It wasn't.. an order."

"Wind breathing... Third Form : Clean Strom Wind Tree."

She blows that attack to him—Caught him off guard. Not to hurt him, but to give her space—Moving him away.

She continues to block the demon. Trying to push it back. Acting like she has no intention to kill it, despite all the demons she had just took down like a mad beast.

The force of her Wind Breathing technique, sent Giyuu skidding backward, his feet dragging against the blood-soaked earth. His grip on his sword remained steady. But he didn't counter-attack. He could have. He should have. But something about the way she fought—the way she held back— made him hesitate.

She had cut down so many demons before this one, without hesitation, without mercy.

And yet... this one was different.

His sharp eyes narrowed.

"You're not trying to kill it."

It wasn't a question. It was an observation. A realization.

The demon snarled, its jagged claws swiping at her once more. But she didn't go for the kill. She deflected, redirected it, forced it back without ending its life.

His instincts told him to act—to finish the fight, to rid the world of another monster. But Giyuu was no fool. He knew what it looked like when someone hesitated. And she wasn't hesitating out of fear. It was something else. Something more dangerous. And that meant he couldn't walk away.

He exhaled, steadying himself. His voice quieter now, but firm.

"If you don't plan to kill it, then what do you plan to do?"

Because if she wasn't going to end this demon—he would.

"Stop you." — "Both of you."

"Shadow breathing third form: Umbra pierce!" she said under her breath.

She hits demon's acupuncture points, disabling it. Before turning to strike him.

"I'm sorry.." she whispered before hitting his vital points, passing him out.

She gathers her breath as darkness crept in at the edges of his vision.

His body, usually so quick to react, felt sluggish. He recognized the sensation instantly—his vital points had been struck with precise accuracy, his limbs refusing to obey. The last thing he saw before his consciousness slipped was her silhouette against the moonlit mist, carrying the demon. Trying to keep it away from the world.

"You don't know me, Water Hashira-sama."

Then, nothing.

~ ~ ~

When Giyuu woke, the night had deepened, the scent of blood long faded. His body was still stiff from the effects of her attack, but he forced himself to move, slow and controlled. The village was empty. She was gone. The demon was gone.

For a long moment, he simply sat there, staring at the space where she had stood.

Shadow Breathing.

A technique that shouldn't exist. A style he had never seen before. And yet, she wielded it as if she had spent years perfecting it. Not only that—she knew how to disable a demon, not kill it.

Why?

Giyuu’s expression remained unreadable, but his mind was restless. He didn't understand her motives. He didn't understand her. But one thing was clear.

This wasn't the last time their paths would cross.

And next time—he wouldn't let her slip away so easily.

Days passed~

The cool morning mist hung over the training grounds, the scent of damp earth and flowing water filling the air. The steady sound of water rushing through the nearby streams blended with the murmurs of the gathered demon slayers. They stood in neat rows, their uniforms crisp. Today, they were to train under the Water Hashira, Giyuu Tomioka.

She was among them.

She stood near the back, her posture as composed as ever, but her presence felt different from the others. While most of the slayers showed determination or anticipation, she radiated something else—**avoidance**. Her gaze never once met his. In fact, since that night, she had made sure to stay out of his reach, slipping away at every possible moment.

But here, she had no choice.

Tomioka stood before them, his arms crossed over his haori. His gaze swept over the group, silent, unreadable, before finally settling on her. He didn't react. Didn't acknowledge their past encounter. But she could tell. He knew she was avoiding him. He knew, and yet, he had said nothing.

Until now.

"***You'll be sparring***."

The slayers exchanged glances, quickly choosing partners. Some whispered among themselves, excited or nervous about training with a Hashira. But as she quietly tried to shift away, to blend into the crowd, his voice cut through the air like a blade.

"***You. With me***."

Silence fell. Some of the slayers turned, curious. She stiffened, but didn't argue. She couldn't. Refusing would only draw more attention. With measured steps, she moved to stand across from him, her expression carefully neutral.

For the first time since that night, she was face to face with the Water Hashira.

His grip on his wooden sword was relaxed, but his eyes were sharp, watching her with quiet intensity.

"***Draw your blade***."

She did, her grip steady, but her mind raced. He wasn't just training her. He was testing her. Watching. Waiting. Trying to understand.

And she knew—there was no running from this.