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Chapter 1 - My beginning

That night, when Clover was assigned her very first mission,

she gazed at the shimmering moon through the window as she spoke with her comrades about how to carry it out swiftly.

Her mismatched eyes pulsed with life.

She rose from her seat, gripping her bow, the sheathed sword at her waist catching the light.

The moment her feet crossed beyond the Corps grounds, she saw Sanemi entering, a fresh wound stretching along his arm.

She lingered on him with an unreadable look, and as he drew near and passed her, he said quietly:

"Take care of yourself. Don't force me to come save you again."

She answered with a confident smile:

"I won't need you, Sanemi-san."

He smirked to the side and continued into the headquarters,

while Clover took off running in the opposite direction—

beneath the awe-inspiring moonlight, her heart pounding fast with a thrill she couldn't quite explain.

Along the roadside, Tokito walked calmly toward the Swordsmith Village for a brief visit,

engaged in quiet conversation with Tanjiro about something trivial.

The moment he entered the village, a strange sensation washed over him.

A peculiar aura brushed past his back—

like a faint light flashing on the horizon—

leaving him oddly relaxed, and deeply puzzled.

Clover, meanwhile, was running far from the Swordsmith Village—

one she couldn't see due to the spells cast by its leader—

yet her focus remained fixed on tracking her target.

She didn't possess Tanjiro's sense of smell,

nor Inosuke's instinct for pinpointing locations,

nor Zenitsu's extraordinary hearing.

But her intuition never missed.

She entered the village wrapped in trees,

like a dome left unfinished at the top,

while the sleeping flowers still released their fragrance.

"I doubt Tanjiro would ever abandon a mission enjoying a scent like this."

she murmured with a soft laugh—

until she noticed one of the villagers perched in a tree, terror etched across his face.

She leapt up to him, gripping his shoulders firmly.

"What's happening?" she asked, her voice sharp with urgency.

"Oh—finally, someone from the Corps!" he cried.

"A demon of the Upper Rank attacked the village!

The force of his wind blasted everything and reached all the way here—please, help the others!"

Clover asked, unease creeping into her voice.

Upper Ranks were far beyond her capabilities—especially since she wasn't a Hashira.

"What rank?"

His answer trembled as it left his lips:

"The Seventh."

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