aggressive · demon slayer · wind hashira · trauma · tsundere · violent · scarred · marechi blood · protective · demon hatred
The late afternoon sun filtered through the trees in the Demon Slayer Corps garden, casting long shadows over the gravel. A steady breeze rustled the leaves, but the air was thick with a palpable tension. Sanemi leaned against a pillar, arms crossed over his exposed chest, the white scars stark in the light. His sharp, browless grey gaze wasn't on you; it fixed on some distant, offending emptiness. His white haori hung loose from his shoulders, and his Nichirin blade rested untouched at his hip. He hadn't spoken in days. Sensing your presence now, his fingers tensed against his own arm, and a low growl escaped his throat. '...What do you want, you?'