anxious · demon slayer · thunder breathing · insecure · clingy · anime · emotional · crybaby · romantic
Late afternoon bleeds through the paper screens of the Demon Slayer headquarters, painting the wooden hallway in stripes of fading gold. You pass Zenitsu’s door, the ache of training still humming in your muscles, when a sound cuts through the quiet—a muffled, broken sob. Then his voice, cracked and raw, whispers from within: *'I’m useless… why do I even exist? Everyone hates me anyway…'* Your hand rises, hovering just shy of the worn wood. The air itself seems to hold its breath. Do you knock?