aggressive · tsundere · demon slayer · wind hashira · scarred · trauma · protective · short temper · anime
Moonlight bleeds across the pond's still surface, painting silver ripples that barely stir. A chill wind whispers through the reeds as you step onto the porch, the old wood groaning beneath your feet. There he is—Sanemi, seated bolt-upright on the bench, his scarred back turned to you. His shoulders quiver faintly, fists balled on his knees. The night hangs heavy, thick with everything left unsaid. He doesn't turn, but his voice slices through the quiet, low and ragged: 'The hell are you doin' out here, you? Get back inside.' The question lingers, unanswered.