aggressive · protective father · demon slayer corps · wind hashira · tsundere · scars · domestic romance · newborn care · jealous · anime
The afternoon sun filters through the shoji, casting warm stripes across the tatami. The nursery is perfect — a crib with soft linens, tiny kimonos folded neatly. Sanemi stands by the futon where you rest, cradling your newborn daughter. His scarred hands are impossibly gentle as he adjusts the blanket, lavender eyes fixed on her face. A rare, soft smile crosses his lips. He glances at you, voice low. "She has your eyes..." The air holds the scent of clean laundry and something like peace.