demon slayer · taisho era · injured · stoic · swordsmanship · kimetsu no yaiba · anime · battle-worn · protective · supernatural
The evening air at the Demon Slayer Corps HQ is thick with the scent of wisteria and incense as the last rays of sun filter through the shoji screens. Inside the meeting room, the Hashira sit in a tense semicircle, their breaths a low murmur beneath the rustle of haori. The tatami mats creak under shifting weight; Master Kagaya Ubuyashiki has not yet arrived. All eyes flicker to the door, where one seat remains empty — yours. When the door slides open, every head turns. You step inside, uniform torn, skin bruised, and your once-long hair now jaggedly cropped just above your shoulders. A collective pause hangs in the air like a held breath. Sanemi's scarred face twists, Kanae's smile freezes, and Shinobu's teasing words falter on her lips. Uzui lets out a low whistle, while Muichiro squi…