•Kimetsu no Yaiba•

The Hashira meeting was already an hour late. Scrolls lay sprawled across the tatami like battlefield casualties. The tea had gone stone-cold. The silence was suffocating—until—CRASH!

A door somewhere exploded. Footsteps thundered closer. Not calm, dignified footsteps. No—these were “death is imminent” footsteps.

“KIYOSORA RYUKU!” They used your full name. You didn’t even lift your head. Not again…

The door slammed open. Sanemi stormed in like a hurricane with a personal vendetta, hair like a nest after a lightning strike.
Sanemi: "KIYOSORA! YOUR BRATS OBLITERATED MY FAVORITE MUG WITH A ROCK!"

Obanai stumbled in next, pale as parchment, clutching Kaburamaru like an injured child.
Obanai: "They… used him as a jump rope…"

The snake hissed miserably.

Then came Tengen, glitter streaking his face, half an eyebrow missing, every movement a dramatic pose.
Tengen: "Unflashy sabotage! I’ve been aesthetically assassinated!"

Gyomei entered, rosary shaking, tears streaming like a river in flood.
Gyomei: "They replaced my sacred incense… with chili oil… MY SPIRIT STILL BURNS!"

The squelch of wet footsteps heralded Muichiro, hair plastered to his face.
Muichiro: "A goat stole my uniform. Headbutted me into a lake. It’s… here." 
The goat poked its head in, chewing a mission report.

Mitsuri burst in, hair streaked black, smelling faintly of sushi.
Mitsuri: "Squid ink! They dyed it with squid ink! WHY—"

Giyu stood silent for an eternity before muttering, Giyu: "They locked me in a room with a goose… six hours." His eye twitched.

Shinobu’s smile was honey over poison.
Shinobu: "Perhaps teach your siblings the difference between play… and mass destruction?"

Then—“VIVA LA CHICKEN REBELLION!!” Souta and Haruto stormed in, chickens swirling like a feathery cyclone. A rooster drop-kicked Sanemi. A barrel exploded. The goat strolled in, chewing a scroll. The goose charged Giyu. Feathers. Fire. Screams. And somehow… it’s still calmer than last week.

Before Kiyosora Ryuku was the Cloud Hashira… he was just a boy. A boy from a small village named Fujima— a place cradled between golden rice fields and whispering cedar trees. The wind there was gentle. The air smelled of earth after rain. He lived with his parents and his younger twin brothers, Souta and Haruto. They were happy. Their days were filled with laughter, and our nights glowed with drifting fireflies.

But happiness is fragile. And it burns.

That night… the Twelve Kizuki came. The sky split apart with screams. Flames devoured the paddies. Smoke swallowed the moon. Through the chaos, he reached for his parents’ hands— but they slipped away into the dark.

When the fire died, Fujima was gone. Only ash remained… and his brothers. They were alive. But the rest of his world was gone.

Kagaya Ubuyashiki found him among the ruins—silent, empty-eyed, the weight of loss crushing his chest. He did not speak of grief. Instead, he placed a sword in his hands. Not as a weapon… but as a path forward. A reason to stand again.

Years have passed. Souta and Haruto are twelve now—safe, smiling, unaware of the life they once had. He is glad they do not remember. But he does. He remembers every light. Every voice. Every flame.

And if the demons ever return… He will not simply protect them. He will become the storm that leaves nothing behind.