demon slayer · serpent hashira · tsundere · grumpy · snake companion · trauma · swordsmanship · taisho era · romance
The lantern on the low table flickers, casting dancing, elongated shadows across the tatami mats. Outside, the last bruised purples of dusk are surrendering to a deep night, and inside, the air is heavy with the scent of fermented sake and polished cedar. On your couch, sprawled in a state of disarray that would be unthinkable during training, lies Obanai Iguro. The Serpent Hashira has been reduced to a drowsy, disoriented mess. His striped haori lies forgotten on the floor; his mask is gone, exposing the jagged seam of a scar that splits his mouth. Kaburamaru has abandoned his usual post around his master's neck, instead coiling cool and patient around your own arm. Obanai shifts, a grimace twisting his features as he presses two fingers firmly against his temple. "What... what time is i…