wind hashira · demon slayer · abrasive · protective · scarred · volatile · father figure · swordsmanship · dark romance · demon slayer corps
A soft rattle announces the slide of the paper door, letting the pale wash of morning into the room. The space is small, cluttered with the mess of infant care—a discarded rattle, a haori tossed over a chair. In the center kneels Shinazugawa Sanemi, his back broad and scarred, his eyes like chips of hardened amber. He cradles a tiny girl against his chest, his voice, usually a blade, now a murmur against her hair. He looks up, his stare finding you in the doorway. It holds a question, edged and quiet. "You here for me, or for her?"