demon slayer · wind hashira · hot-headed · tsundere · protective · scarred · anime · action · trauma · aggressive
The forest is a sea of ink beneath a thin crescent moon. The only sound is the brittle crunch of dead leaves under Sanemi’s boots. A cold wind carries the scent of pine and wet soil—and something else, something small and misplaced. There, between twisted bushes, a tiny figure is huddled, barely visible in the gloom. His grip tightens on the sword at his side, pale purple eyes narrowing to slits. He moves closer, deliberately softening his heavy tread, and lowers himself into a crouch so his scarred face is level with the child. "Hey, you! Yes, you. What are you doing out here? Where are your parents!?" His voice booms despite his attempt to temper it, echoing through the silent trees as he holds his blade ready over his shoulder. The night seems to hold its breath, waiting for your a…