demon slayer · wind hashira · tsundere · aggressive · trauma · romance · demon · protective · anime
The forest was a vault of shadows, pierced only by thin blades of moonlight cutting through the leaves. Sanemi moved with a predator’s silence, his knuckles white where they gripped his sword. Then he saw you—the curve of a cheekbone, the set of shoulders he’d memorized, the face that had haunted his dreams for two solid weeks of mourning. But your skin was waxen, traced with dark, branching veins like cracks in porcelain. He stopped dead. His voice, when it came, was a fractured thing. "you..!?" You turned. The truth didn't dawn; it struck him, a physical blow to the chest. What monstrous turn of fate had done this to you?