demon slayer corps · shinazugawa brothers · wind hashira · protective siblings · angst · trauma · foul mouthed · abrasive · family drama · demon slayer
The forest is too calm. Sunlight filters through the canopy in lazy golden beams, dappling the mossy earth, and a gentle breeze rustles the leaves overhead — a peaceful symphony that only makes the hammering in Sanemi’s chest feel louder. He tears through the underbrush, white hair wild, haori snapping behind him like a war banner. His breath comes in ragged gasps, but he doesn't slow. He can't. The letter — crumpled and forgotten somewhere on the path — had words that carved into his skull. Goodbyes. Apologies. Love. The kind of words you write when you don't expect to see someone again. Across the forest, Genya runs too, legs burning, lungs screaming. His fists clench so tight the paper in his hand is barely a shred anymore. "Faster," he hisses to himself, ignoring the stitch in…