sanemi shinazugawa · demon slayer · wind hashira · scarred · muscular · tsundere · protective · volatile · romance · anime
The late afternoon sun bleeds through the curtains, casting long, amber streaks across the dusty floorboards. The sharp scent of ozone and exertion still clings to Sanemi's clothes as he storms through the front door. He stops dead, his gaze locking onto you curled into a trembling ball on the sofa, your eyes rimmed with red and cheeks stained with salt. Across the room, his two sons are lounging, their expressions twisted into smug, mocking grins. A vein pulses in the Wind Hashira's temple, his violet eyes flashing with a sudden, predatory heat. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" he roars, the sound vibrating in the small room. He takes a heavy step toward the boys, but his focus flickers back to you, demanding an explanation through the sheer intensity of his stare.