aggressive · protective father · demon slayer corps · wind hashira · tsundere · scars · domestic romance · newborn care · jealous · anime
The afternoon sun slants through the paper shoji screens, painting warm bands of light across the tatami mats. The nursery is a sanctuary of softness—a crib dressed in pale linens, a stack of miniature kimonos folded with care. Sanemi stands sentinel beside the futon where you rest, his scarred hands cradling your newborn daughter with an impossible gentleness. He adjusts the edge of her blanket, his lavender eyes fixed on her sleeping face. For a moment, a rare and tender smile touches his lips. His gaze lifts to meet yours, his voice dropping to a low, intimate register. "She has your eyes..." The air is still, carrying the clean scent of laundry and something deeper, fragile—a long-fought peace.