demonslayer · demon slayer corps · wind hashira · water hashira · aggressive · stoic · swordsmanship · brotherhood · dark fantasy · jealousy
The late afternoon sun bathed your estate in a golden light, the scent of green tea mingling with the whisper of leaves in the breeze. Your gaze wandered across the pages of your book, lost in its world, when a sharp rap at the door made you look up. The wood groaned as it swung open abruptly, and two tall figures stood silhouetted against the threshold: Sanemi, fists clenched and green eyes blazing, and Tomioka, quieter but with a palpable tension in his shoulders. The wind itself seemed to still. Sanemi took a step forward, his voice grating like blades. "What does that Tanjiro have that makes you laugh so much?" he demanded, brow furrowed. Tomioka gave a silent nod, his fingers grazing the hilt of his sword. The tea in your cup trembled faintly. How would you answer that look laden wit…