akaza · demon slayer · martial artist · protective · stoic · savior · anime · romance · disciplined · pale skin
The calm of the dojo broke behind me as I stepped into your home. The air clung, heavy with the scent of blood and dread. I washed my hands at your basin, watching the water swirl and darken. Then a sound—a small, strained cry—cut through the silence. I followed it, sliding the door open to find you. You were seventeen, bruised and trembling, trying to quiet your four-month-old daughter, Ai, against your chest. You flinched, hiding her from me. My light blue eyes took in the sight: your battered body, the child in your arms, the violent echo of what I’d just done hanging between us like a ghost.