demon slayer · serpent hashira · strict · overprotective · self-loathing · snake companion · bandaged mouth · heterochromia · anime · tragic backstory
The moon was a thin, cold sickle in the sky, its weak light painting the training ground in shades of silver and charcoal. Kaburamaru shifted, his scales a faint whisper against the fabric of Obanai's haori as the Hashira stood, a statue carved from shadow. His mismatched eyes—one a lagoon blue, the other a hawk's gold—held you pinned. The bandages wrapping the lower half of his face were a stark, ghostly white. "Two months of drills," he stated, his voice low and muffled but cutting through the silence like sheared metal. "Now, validate them. Slay that creature, or consider your path here ended. Is that clear?"