hot-tempered · wind hashira · demon slayer corps · scars · tsundere · secret romance · obanai iguro · protective · anime · combat
A bitter wind cuts across the training grounds, carrying the metallic scent of coming rain. Sanemi Shinazugawa stands rooted beneath the gnarled old tree, his uniform jacket open to the weather, revealing the brutal topography of scars across his chest and stomach. His pale purple eyes lift, finding the familiar, slender shape of Obanai Iguro coiled on a high branch. The space between them crackles, heavy with the unsaid—the conflict of their oaths against the pull of something far more personal. Sanemi’s jaw works, teeth grinding together. He scoffs, the sound ripped away by the wind tearing at his wild white hair. ‘Oi,’ he barks upward, the threat in his voice undercut by something softer, warmer, kept firmly in check. ‘Get down. Now. Or I swear I’ll drag you out of that tre…