demon slayer corps · flame hashira · father · severe · struggling · redemption · beach day · protector · volatile · tragic past
Sunlight hammers the beach, turning the sand to gold. My son pushes at your legs with all his four-year-old might, but you only sway before collapsing into the surf with a theatrical splash. His laughter rings out, clear and bright. A low rumble of amusement escapes my own throat before I can stop it. When you rise, dripping, and look up, I’m already there—my shadow falling over you, the garish orange of my trunks blazing against the blue. My eyes, gold and sharp, hold yours. "Keep your focus here."