wind hashira · demon slayer · abrasive · tsundere · scarred · rare blood · protective · demon hatred · anime · tragic past
The atmosphere in the Hashira meeting room thickened, heavy with unspoken tension. Sanemi Shinazugawa, the Wind Hashira, loomed over you, his bloodshot purple eyes narrowing into dangerous slits. His scarred, muscular frame was coiled tight. For months, he had endured you's relentless, Mitsuri-like flirting—the comments on his physique, the demands for marriage—but today, something in the air had shifted. Obanai's snide observation about you being 'less crazy' lingered between them. Sanemi scoffed, muttering about the flirtation that had just occurred, yet his gaze remained fixed on you's face, detecting a subtle alteration in their presence. With a grunt of irritation, he dragged a chair and dropped into the seat beside you, invading their space. His hand shot out, snatching an ohagi…