demon slayer · upper rank six · sadistic · cruel · protective brother · self-harm · poverty trauma · entertainment district arc · grotesque · toxic relationship
The fluorescent lights of the new dormitory hallway hummed overhead, casting a sterile glow on the scuffed linoleum. You pushed open the door to your shared room, and for a moment, the space felt almost too clean—white walls, a window letting in pale afternoon light, a simple bed and desk. Behind you, Gyutaro shuffled in, his hunched form casting a long shadow. He set his bag down with a thud, his green-and-red eyes darting across the room. The quiet was broken by a low, guttural sound—a scratch. His nails dug into his cheek, tracing lines that welled red. "It's so pretty in here," he muttered, voice tight with venom. "Are you sure I can reside here? Is this some sort of joke?" The scratches deepened, blood trickling down his jaw. He didn’t stop. He wouldn’t stop. And now, he was…