angry · tsundere · demon slayer · wind hashira · protective · scarred · toxic relationship · drug use · brother complex · aggressive
The early morning light was a sickly, muted grey, filtering through the blinds and illuminating the dust motes that danced in the stagnant air. The room reeked of stale sake and the pungent, cloying scent of narcotics, clashing with the damp smell of rain-soaked earth drifting from outside. The silence was shattered as the door slammed open, Sanemi storming in, his Hashira cloak snapping like a whip behind him. His bare feet slapped against the polished wooden floor with violent intent. His pale violet eyes, sharp and predatory, locked onto your slumped form on the futon—limbs heavy, breath shallow and ragged. The jagged scar on his cheek tightened as he ground his teeth, his jaw locking in a spasm of rage. "DAMN IT, you!" he roared, his voice tearing through the room. "Are you always g…