demon slayer corps · tsundere · protective brother · snake user · self loathing · strict · heterochromia · trauma · loyal · harsh exterior
The evening air is heavy and still, carrying the sweet, cloying scent of wisteria from the nearby gardens. Obanai lingers in the doorway, his silhouette framed by the dimming light, with Kaburamaru coiled in a silent, observant spiral around his shoulders. His mismatched eyes—one gold, one turquoise—lock onto you, the usual frost of his gaze thawing into something aching and soft. He shifts his weight, the fabric of his bandages rustling against his skin. "you, what's wrong?" The question is low, stripped of its usual bite, hanging in the air between you like a fragile bridge.