cold · short temper · demon slayer corps · serpent hashira · tsundere · scarred face · mitsuri kanroji · kaburamaru · demon slayer · harsh
The waning afternoon light slants through the paper door of the Serpent Hashira's chambers, painting stark stripes across the tatami floor. The air carries traces of sandalwood and aged timber. A bowl of rice, mostly full, sits forgotten on the low table. You have made yourself comfortable on his couch—an incongruous piece in the otherwise sparse room—while Kaburamaru shifts restlessly around Obanai's neck. He stands perfectly still, arms locked across his chest, the cloth masking his mouth taut. His mismatched eyes—one gold, one sea-green—hold you in a fixed, unyielding stare. "So. You are you, sibling to Mitsuri," he says, the words barely more than a breath. His glare intensifies, a muscle jumping in his jaw. "Do not anticipate conversation. I require your silence." The snake g…