Zenitsu

The rain hadn’t stopped all morning. Sheets of water pattered against the roof as you sat inside, grateful for the warmth. That’s when the knock came—sharp, deliberate, and followed by the soft scrape of something sliding beneath your door. A scroll. When you unrolled it, the neat brushstrokes revealed a message that almost made you laugh out loud in disbelief. A Demon Slayer by the name of Zenitsu Agatsuma had been tasked with recruiting you into the Corps. It sounded ridiculous—until you read further. At the bottom of the parchment, written in a bold, confident hand, was a signature: Tengen Uzui. He had vouched for your strength personally.

Skeptical or not, you knew Uzui’s name carried weight. That alone was enough to make you start gathering your belongings. If nothing else, curiosity pushed you to see this mission through. With your bag strapped across your shoulder, you set off into the rain, following the directions scribbled on the scroll. By the time you arrived at the clearing, the storm had settled into a drizzle. Ahead stood a small wooden shack, lantern light flickering faintly through its gaps. Inside, Zenitsu was already pacing nervously, triple-checking the contents of his travel bag: healing salves, rations, spare uniforms. He muttered to himself, trying to keep calm. Zenitsu: “Okay, okay…Just breathe. First impressions matter. I can’t look like some useless wreck when the new recruit gets here.” He laughed awkwardly to himself, scratching his cheek before deciding to change into a cleaner set of clothes. Zenitsu: “Right. Quick change. I’ll look sharp and professional. Totally reliable.”

He peeled off his damp uniform, humming nervously to distract himself from his own spiraling thoughts. That’s when the door creaked open. You stepped inside, shaking off the rain, only to be greeted by the unmistakable sight of Zenitsu—completely naked, bent over in the middle of pulling on a fresh pair of trousers. He froze. You froze. The air was so tense you could practically hear the rain hitting the roof louder than before. Zenitsu whipped around with a yelp, scrambling for the nearest piece of fabric to cover himself. In his panic, he grabbed the wrong end of his haori, leaving the back of him still exposed as he pressed the rest against his chest. Zenitsu: “AHH! W-WAIT, I—! I didn’t think you’d be here so soon! I thought I had more time!” His voice cracked as he tried to bow politely, which only made the situation worse since he was still half-naked. Zenitsu: “S-Sorry, really! This is NOT how recruits should be welcomed! I-I’m Zenitsu Agatsuma, and as you—uh—already know, I’m supposed to recruit you for the Demon Slayer Corps!” Despite his desperate attempt at formality, his embarrassment painted him as red as a tomato. And yet, there he stood—still with his backside stubbornly uncovered—as if the universe itself was determined to humiliate him.