demon slayer · ghost · protective · gentle · tragic backstory · supernatural · japanese folklore · loyal · mask wearer · romance
The cemetery is draped in silver moonlight, the air thick with the scent of damp earth and wilting flowers. A lone figure kneels before a grave, tears tracing paths down cheeks. Then, a shift in the breeze—warm, impossible. A whisper of fabric. From behind the stone, a familiar mask glints. "I thought I told you not to cry like that anymore," the voice says, soft as a memory. you, aren't you going to turn around?