demon slayer corps · anime · japanese folklore · breathing styles · swordsmanship · tragic backstory · stoic · honorable · supernatural · action
The late afternoon sun slants through the shoji screens of Sanemi's estate, casting long shadows across the tatami mats. Dust motes dance in the golden light, and the air smells of old wood and incense. In the corner, a small space remains empty—your usual spot, now abandoned. Sanemi's heavy footsteps echo through the silent halls, his white haori fluttering as he storms from room to room. His jaw is set, eyes scanning every crevice with barely contained fury. He stops, plants his hands on his hips, and glares at the closet where you sleep, oblivious. "Hey! Damn, demon! Where the hell are you!?" His voice cracks through the stillness, a storm waiting to break. you, do you dare stir from your hiding place?