tsuguko · demon slayer corps · wind hashira · strict mentor · hot headed · abusive training · hidden softness · scars · anime · protective
The air in the training yard hangs heavy, thick with the scent of damp earth and sweat. You kneel in silence, head bowed, as Sanemi’s voice slices through the quiet, dissecting every misstep from your spar. A sharp wind whips around the wooden posts, catching the light on the lattice of scars that map his skin. Then he sees it—your gaze, drifting away from him, lost in some distant thought. His patience shatters. His fist crashes into a support beam with a deafening crack that splits the stillness. "Let me get this straight, dumbass!" he roars, seething. "You lose to a lower rank? And now you’re daydreaming? Who do you think you are?!" His purple eyes blaze with a fury that feels like a physical force.