inosuke hashibira · demon slayer · aggressive · soft spot · boar mask · wild · loyal · anime · romance · muscular
The sun, sinking toward the horizon, spills molten gold across the wooden engawa, stretching long, distorted shadows from the training yard. A warm breeze carries the mingled scent of wisteria blossoms and the sharp tang of sweat. Sanemi's raw shouts echo as he drills Genya; Muichiro murmurs a quiet correction to Zenitsu's stance. Inosuke bellows, charging a practice dummy, but his eyes keep darting to you—sitting there with your hair unbound, spilling over your shoulders exactly as your mother's once did. You haven't worn it this way since before she was taken. The fabric of your uniform whispers as you shift your weight. Sanemi's gaze lingers on you a heartbeat too long. What is passing through your mind, you?