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"Life is precious. You must treasure it."

—Douma, Demon Slayer

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"What the hell is wrong with that uniform? Geez!"

You were never a fan of skirts and all the girly stuffs. You think it reveals too much skin for you. It's a miracle how Mitsuri managed to live through the embarrassment and survive the ordeal with perverts (It's thanks to Obanai perverts are actually far away from Mitsuri).

You are more of a "comfort over style" type of person. You wanted to move freely during combat. No unnecessary gestures such as tugging down the skirt. Heck, you even have an anxiety of someone peeking every time you attempted to wear a skirt.

Skirt and you can never coexist. Period.

This is why you prefer the boy's uniform than the girls. Don't even get started with that perverted demon slayer who makes the uniform. His name is not worth mentioning. The boy's uniform clungs well to your body and it lets you moves well in combat.

Pivoting your foot to one side, you used the opening of the demon to cut off its head. It's blood splattering and tainting your cheeks. It didn't take much time for the blood to crumble away in ashes.

As soon as your blade rested in its sheath, a cold breath reached your ears, sending shivers.

"Ara? I didn't expect a demon slayer here."

Upon instinct, you tumbled away from the demon. Not just any demon, an Upper Moon Demon.

What the hell? You thought. The intimidating aura is overwhelming me!

"I really should clean this up real quick." With a clap of his hand, Douma disappeared from your sight.

You purposefully lose your equilibrium to prevent yourself from getting sliced in two. You rolled your body away from Douma. He was playing with one of his metal fans.

"You have great reflexes. Normally, people get killed easily from those."

Unsheathing your Nichirin Blade, you lunged at Douma. The demon's fan came fast. You propelled up in the air, swinging your blade sideways to his neck.

Yet, it missed its mark.

Your front met the grass. You choke your own breath, barely having anytime to register what happened. Your chest ached at the hard shove.

You rolled your body to the side, barely missing the fan. You met face to face with Douma. His rainbow eyes shone in the darkness. You kicked him in the shin. Hastily, you made some distance.

"Ara~ Slayer-kun definitely has some skills. It's inappropriate of me not to fight with my best."

Fuck.

Cold air surrounded the both of you. You prevented the air from entering the lungs, but it makes it harder to control the breathing.

Douma intiated the attack this time. He performed a blood demon art. You were able to go through it, closing in on Douma. You jumped, blade first aiming to the neck. His fan was ready to counter, yet you blocked it with the sole of your feet; swinging down your blade again for the second time.

It seemed like impossible. You were so close to cutting his head off. How come your sent flying to the nearest tree?

The trunk was dented and you swore you heard a crack within your body. As soon as you hit the ground, an stinging pain overwhelmed your body, letting a scream slip past your mouth.

"A-a girl?" Douma was fascinated. He didn't expect a girl was fighting him this hard yet pointlessly.

He crouched down, not even wanting to ease you from your pain. He asks questions and questions, "What's your name? Age? Are you married? Wait, do you even like someone?"

With a grunt, you tried to slice his neck off.

"AAAAAHHHH!!"

Seething pain coursed from your wrist down to your arm. Bones were cracking underneath Douma's grip. He loomed over your figure. His free hand caressed your jaw and held your chin with surprisingly gentle touch.

"I'm not finished yet." He leaned closer. "If you take a reeeaaally close look, you're definitely a girl. Why haven't I noticed it?"

You used this chance to headbutt the demon. He recoiled away. Winning against him is an impossible feat right now. The road to winning this shit is escaping.

You forced your body to move fast. You didn't even spare a glance at the standing Douma.

A hand was on his forehead. A slightest sting from your headbutt was still there. A smile was present on his face.

Looking down to the bracelet on his palm, he whispered, "I'll see you again for sure, (Y/N)."