My name is Kazama Aoi. Originally, I was just your average Japanese high school senior. My life revolved around a desk piled high with practice exams, cherry blossoms blurring past train windows, and late-night venting sessions with my best friend at the local convenience store.
That was until not long ago, when a cold, mechanical voice exploded in my head, dragging me into this world of bloodthirsty demons and flashing blades.
[Ding! Compatibility threshold met. Binding 'Skinship for Strength' System.][Beginner Mission: Join the Demon Slayer Corps.][Success Reward: Super-Regeneration.][Failure Penalty: Obliteration.]
For the next few days, I moved like a puppet on invisible strings, stumbling my way toward the entrance of the Final Selection.
When I crossed into that eerie forest of wisteria, I nearly lost my mind with fear as a demon lunged at me. It was only thanks to the System's temporary takeover of my body that I managed to dodge by a hair's breadth.
Ultimately, driven by the sheer, desperate obsession of "I don't want to die," I managed to survive the selection and become a rank-and-file member of the Demon Slayer Corps.
I thought if I just stayed quiet and completed the System's simpler tasks, I could coast through this. I had no idea the nightmare was only beginning.
[Ding! Host, please complete the mission immediately: Kiss Sanemi Shinazugawa.][Success Reward: Wood Breathing.][Failure Penalty: Obliteration.]
Kazama Aoi crouched in a corner, peeking cautiously at Sanemi Shinazugawa a short distance away.
He had just finished training. His uniform was soaked through with sweat, clinging to his broad shoulders and narrow waist. His sculpted eight-pack abs—defined and sharp—heaved slightly with his heavy breathing. Every inch of his muscle seemed to pulse with explosive power.
Aoi couldn't help but swallow hard. While she really wanted to feel the Wind Hashira's abs, the thought of his legendary volcanic temper made her think twice.
She shook her head, trying to dispel the intrusive thoughts, and pleaded with the System in her mind. 'Look, System, if I actually do this, he's going to mince me into little pieces! Can't I skip this one?'
The only response was the cold, mechanical monotone: [Failure Penalty: Instant Obliteration! Instant Obliteration! Instant Obliteration! Countdown: 10 seconds...]
Aoi's eyes welled up with tears of panic. 'Wait, don't—'
"Tch. What are you staring at?"
Having sensed her gaze, Sanemi's brows knitted together fiercely as he began walking toward her. Every crunch of his footsteps on the gravel felt like it was stepping directly on Aoi's nerves.
"I... I..." Aoi's tongue tied itself in knots; her brain went completely blank.
In her head, the countdown had already reached the final five seconds.
Looking at Sanemi standing right in front of her, Aoi squeezed her eyes shut. I'm dead either way. Might as well go for it!
She lunged forward, standing on her tiptoes. Her hands grabbed the damp fabric of Sanemi's uniform at his chest. Before he could react, she pressed a lightning-fast, feather-light kiss against his lips.
The training grounds fell into a deathly silence.
Aoi kept her eyes clamped shut. She could clearly feel Sanemi's body jerk into a rigid stance. The powerful thrum of his heart—pounding from his workout—seemed to hit a pause button, skipping a beat entirely.
One second. Two seconds. Three seconds.
[Ding! Mission complete. Reward: 'Wood Breathing' techniques have been issued. Please check your inventory.]
Aoi opened her eyes, gasping. It wasn't the joy of the reward; it was the pure, unadulterated relief of being alive.
"You..." Sanemi's voice was incredibly hoarse, carrying a faint, nearly imperceptible tremble. It was as if he was so stunned by the sheer audacity of the offense that he couldn't form a full sentence. "Are you fucking crazy?!"
Aoi looked up at the enraged man. The warm sensation of the kiss still lingered on her lips, but her heart was hammering against her ribs from the sheer force of his aura.
"I-I'm sorry!" she stammered, her eyes turning red—half from the lingering fear, half from the sheer unfairness of it all. "I didn't mean to! I just..."
The words died in her throat. She couldn't exactly explain the System's existence. She could only bite her lip and watch Sanemi's fury boil over.
"You just what?" His voice remained raspy, but the raw violence had faded slightly, replaced by a teeth-grinding awkwardness. "Do you have any goddamn idea what you just did?!"
Aoi's tears finally spilled over, rolling down her cheeks and dripping onto her dust-covered hands.
Seeing her burst into tears, Sanemi's scowl deepened. He looked utterly out of his depth, his hands clenching into fists as he stood there in silence. Finally, he let out a low, aggressive growl.
"Get the hell away from me!"
He spun around and stormed off, his strides long and frantic.
Mitsuri Kanroji, who had witnessed the entire spectacle, had eyes the size of saucers. A second later, she blurred like a pink-and-green streak toward Aoi, grabbing her shoulders with irrepressible excitement.
"That was so brave! I can't believe you actually kissed Shinazugawa-san!"
Her voice was so bright and loud that Aoi nearly jumped out of her skin. She scrambled to cover Mitsuri's mouth, looking warily in the direction Sanemi had disappeared, terrified the volatile man might come back.
"Shh!" Aoi hissed. Is this really something to be proud of?
Mitsuri obediently went quiet, leaning in to whisper in her ear. "Are you a new recruit? I don't think I've seen you before!"
Aoi nodded weakly. "My... my name is Kazama Aoi. I just passed the selection recently..." She spoke with a hitch in her breath, tears still clinging to her lashes.
Mitsuri beamed. "Aoi-chan, you're so cute! I'm Mitsuri Kanroji. You can just call me Mitsuri!" She gave Aoi's arm a playful little nudge. "You like Sanemi-san, don't you? That's why you kissed him?"
"No, no, no!" Aoi waved her hands frantically, her face flushing a deep crimson. "I just... I just..." She was babbling, unable to say that she was forced by a System that would kill her if she didn't comply.
"Wait, really?" Mitsuri added with a serious look. "But I saw Shinazugawa-san's ears turning bright red!"
"His ears were red?" Aoi froze. Her mind involuntarily replayed the scene—Sanemi's rage, his raspy voice.
Could it be... he wasn't actually that angry?
No, impossible.
"You definitely saw wrong," Aoi said, her shoulders slumping in defeat.
"Don't lose heart, Aoi-chan!" Mitsuri patted her head affectionately. "Sanemi-san looks scary, but he's actually a very good person! I'm sure you can win him over. I have to go now, see you later!"
Winning over Sanemi Shinazugawa? The probability of that is lower than Mount Fuji erupting tomorrow, Aoi thought.
She could only pray that Sanemi would put the whole ridiculous incident behind him. Unfortunately, fate had no intention of letting her off the hook.
The Next Day
On the training grounds, Aoi had barely gripped her wooden practice sword when a bokken whistled through the air and slammed hard against her wrist.
"Tch. Can't even hold a sword steady, yet you have the nerve to daydream during training?"
Facing Sanemi's interrogation, Aoi wanted to cry. He's targeting me. He's definitely targeting me! Dammit, Sanemi!
Aoi stumbled back half a step, her wrist throbbing with numbness. She cursed him eight hundred times in her head.
"Focus!" Another strike came swinging toward her ribs.
Aoi instinctively twisted to dodge, but her grip failed. With a loud clack, her wooden sword fell to the ground.
She bit her lip and leaned over to pick it up, only to see a pair of sandals enter her field of vision. Sanemi had moved in front of her, looking down with a piercing, judgmental gaze.
Aoi looked up sharply, her eyes locking onto his.
"Slow even at picking up a sword. Are you a pig?" he snarled. "If you don't finish three hundred swings today, you aren't eating lunch!"
Aoi retrieved her sword, her eyes stinging. She knew she was in the wrong, but being "tortured" like this made her nose prickle with emotion. "I understand..." she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Sanemi stared at her reddened eyes, and his brow furrowed even tighter. A strange, inexplicable emotion surged in his chest. He wanted to say something—perhaps something softer—but when he opened his mouth, it came out as an impatient roar.
"Stop crying! The Demon Slayer Corps has no use for useless trash who only know how to weep! Cry again and I'll throw you to the demons myself!"
With that, he pivoted and marched toward the edge of the grounds. His posture was as straight as ever, but his pace was noticeably faster than usual—as if he were running away from something.