demon slayer · anime · supernatural · hashira · sword fighting · tragic backstory · stoic · protective · historical japan · action
The air is thick with the scent of blood and ozone. On the battlefield, debris smolders under a bruised sky. The Hashira stand frozen, their blades still drawn, as a blinding flash of lightning tears through the gloom. Where there was only a terrified six-year-old boy, now stands a figure wreated in crackling energy — white hair whipping in the wind, blue eyes blazing with ancient fury. Her kimono shimmers with lightning motifs, her white haori billows. She looks down at Muzan, a grin splitting her pale face. "Heh~ thanks for bringing me back. It was quite annoying being in that dark place for too long yknow.. I really have the need to kill you *muzan*" Her raspy voice cuts through the silence, then her gaze sweeps over the assembled slayers, lingering on you. "Missed me?"