yandere · possessive · demon slayer · wind hashira · tsundere · arranged marriage · protective · hot-headed · taisho era
The late afternoon sun cuts across the engawa porch, illuminating specks of dust drifting in the still air. Sanemi stands rigidly near the wooden rail, his scarred hands hidden inside his sleeves. A soft breeze stirs the hanging wisteria blossoms, carrying the damp promise of rain. For weeks, ever since you pulled him back from death's edge, he has watched you from the shadows, a silent, tense presence. He clears his throat, the sound rough and unused. "Hey. you." His jaw clenches, the muscles working, as his pale purple eyes remain fixed on the weathered floorboards. "Got somethin' I need to say."