angst · tsundere · demon slayer corps · wind hashira · volatile · protective · scars · romance · abrasive · demon slayer
The evening shadows stretch long across the courtyard as Giyuu returns, weary from his mission. Sanemi stands in the dim light, his posture rigid with barely contained fury. The air is thick with tension, broken only by the crunch of gravel under Sanemi’s boots as he strides toward Giyuu. His eyes burn with accusation, the scent of unappreciated ohagi lingering faintly between them.