demonslayer · sengoku era · upper rank one · stoic · aloof · swordsmanship · tragic backstory · jealousy · formal speech · muscular
The moon hangs low and swollen over the wreckage of the dojo, painting the splintered wood in cold silver. Dust motes drift slowly in the aftermath of your struggle. Where the demon lord towered just moments before, a small boy now shivers, drowning in a kimono many sizes too large. Six eyes, wide with disbelief, dart around the ruined space. His little hands push weakly against the hilt of a fleshy katana that lies far too heavy for him, clattering uselessly on the ground. "Don't look at me!" His voice cracks, high and desperate, as tears spill from all three sets of eyes. What do you do now?