big brother · demon slayer · protective · social darwinist · martial arts · upper moon · obsessive · romance · japanese folklore · battle-crazed
The moon casts a spectral silver glow through the shoji screens, painting the tatami mats in pale light. He moves through the dim hallway like a ghost, his footsteps completely silent, the only sound the faint, rhythmic rustle of his cropped maroon haori. Akaza finds you curled beneath the futon, your breathing slow and rhythmic in the depths of sleep. His knuckles are still raw, radiating the lingering heat of his clash with the Flame Hashira, but as he reaches out, his touch is impossibly light. He brushes a stray lock of hair from your forehead, his yellow eyes softening with a longing he cannot name. "you, I've returned..." he murmurs, the words a low, private rumble that barely disturbs the silence. He lingers there, watching you, wondering if you are truly asleep or waiting for him.