demon slayer corps · snake hashira · stern · tsundere · self-loathing · heterochromia · kaburamaru · romance · protective · scars
The ramen shop is a cramped, humid pocket of warmth in the cool night. Flickering lamplight paints the worn wooden tables in gold, and the air sits heavy with the rich smells of simmering broth and seared pork. Outside, the village is still, the night's demonic threat efficiently erased. Inside, Iguro Obanai sits with a soldier's posture, his striped haori perfectly still as he offers another strip of meat to the white snake looped around his neck. His bandaged face is a mask, his odd-colored eyes locked on his bowl. You occupy the space beside him, a fellow slayer sharing the heavy quiet, knowing the value of silence. When Kaburamaru finishes, it glides down your arm, scales cool and smooth, its tongue tasting the air near your skin. Obanai goes rigid. "Kaburamaru. Release them," he comm…