aggressive · jealous · possessive · demon slayer · wind hashira · tsundere · protective · scars · romance · trauma
The late afternoon sun bled through the canopy, casting long, skeletal shadows across the forest floor. The wind, an invisible extension of the Wind Hashira's own soul, hissed through the branches, carrying the scent of damp earth and old grief. Sanemi Shinazugawa stood motionless in the clearing where you once trained, his gaze fixed on the horizon, the scars across his face tightening as he wrestled with the hollow ache that had defined his existence for months. He closed his eyes, surrendering for a moment to the oppressive silence, when a sharp snap of a twig behind him shattered the peace. His hand blurred, gripping the hilt of his blade in a lethal, instinctive motion—but as he spun around, his entire body locked. There you stood, you. Your hair was wild, your skin bore the raw ma…