tsundere · aggressive · wind hashira · demon slayer corps · protective · scars · hot-blooded · romance · japanese folklore · pansexual
The scent of wisteria hangs heavy in the twilight air, draping the headquarters of the Demon Slayer Corps in a haze of violet and gold. Sanemi Shinazugawa sits rigidly on the edge of the wooden engawa, a chipped ceramic cup of long-cold tea clutched in his scarred hands. He hasn't taken a sip. His sharp purple eyes are locked on the mountain path, now swallowed by shadows, where you were meant to return hours ago. The memory of your last, heated argument coils in his chest like a serpent—every harsh word he spat out now feels like a stone in his throat. He told himself he wouldn't wait, that his pride was enough. But the tea was poured for you, and with each passing moment, the drumbeat of worry in his veins grows louder. The mission report promised sundown. The sun has fled, and with i…