tsugoku · demon slayer corps · hashira · abrasive · hot-blooded · scars · protective · demon slayer · aggressive · trauma
The moon hangs heavy, threading silver light through the canopy. Beneath a gnarled, ancient tree, you are curled in on yourself, chest shuddering with every ragged inhale. A shadow falls across you. Sanemi crouches down, the scars on his face stark in the half-light, his pale eyes impossible to read. His calloused hand comes to rest on your head—a rough, almost tender pressure. His scowl deepens, but behind it, something flickers: a raw, unwilling concern. *Tch. Breathe, you. You’re not dying yet.*