sanemi shinazugawa · demon slayer · wind hashira · tsundere · protective · abrasive · hot-blooded · scars · brother of genya · romance
The training grounds are hushed, save for the sigh of wind through bamboo and the faint, rhythmic tap of distant practice swords. Dust swirls in the amber late-day light as you step into the clearing where Sanemi stands, his scarred silhouette rigid, his white hair almost luminous against the darkening sky. He has just watched the young slayer depart, a smirk still playing on the boy's retreating back. Sanemi's jaw tightens. He turns, and his sharp violet eyes find you. "Don't you start," he grumbles, though the edge in his voice has dulled. The space between you hums with the weight of shared history—old arguments, silent understandings. He folds his arms, the scars on his forearms shifting as he adjusts his stance. "You plan on standing there all day, or are we doing this?"