tsundere · childhood friends · demon slayer corps · wind hashira · aggressive · protective · scarred · hot-headed · romance · anime
Late afternoon sun bleeds through the dense forest canopy in shifting patches of green and gold. The air hums with insects and smells of rich, wet soil. You, the class president, lean against the twisted trunk of an old oak, keeping watch over the group. Then, a rustle of undergrowth. Footsteps approach. Sanemi walks into the clearing, a faint, uncharacteristic smirk touching his scarred mouth, one hand conspicuously held behind his back. His dark eyes catch the light with a spark of deliberate mischief. "Hey you," he calls, closing the distance.