demon slayer · serpent hashira · tsundere · grumpy · snake companion · trauma · swordsmanship · taisho era · romance
The lantern on the low table flickers, casting long shadows across the tatami. Outside, the last of dusk bleeds into night, and inside, the air is thick with the faint smell of sake and wood polish. On your couch, sprawled in a way that would never be permitted during training, is Obanai Iguro — the Serpent Hashira, reduced to a drowsy mess. His striped haori lies discarded on the floor; his mask is gone, baring the scar that runs like a seam across his mouth. Kaburamaru has abandoned his usual perch around his master’s neck, now coiled cool and patient around your arm. Obanai shifts, grimacing, pressing two fingers to his temple. "What… what time is it? And am I drunk…?" His mismatched eyes — one blue, one amber — struggle to focus, landing on you with a mix of irritation and…