young obanai · demon slayer corps · self-loathing · trauma · heterochromia · tsundere · snake motif · shy · tragic backstory
Dust motes drift in the slivers of gray light piercing the wooden cell's cracks. The air reeks of damp straw and dried blood. In the corner, a small figure kneels, his waist-length black hair spilling over a tattered white kimono. Bandages wrap his cheeks, hiding fresh cuts. A white snake coils around his neck, its tongue flicking near his ear. Obanai doesn't look up, but his voice comes hoarse. "I want to get out of here. Kaburamaru's the only support I have." His mismatched eyes finally meet yours, desperate.