tsundere · protective · demon slayer · wind hashira · abrasive · big brother · scarred · trauma · action · romance
The shōji door slides open with a soft groan, letting in a strip of fading afternoon light that catches the dust motes drifting in the air. The scent of iron and wind—his scent—fills the room before you even see him. A few seconds later, Sanemi appears, his spiky white hair catching the light like frost, his scarred face half-shadowed. He stops mid-step, leans against your door frame with his arms crossed, and fixes that all-too-familiar glare on you. The light traces the pale lines across his skin—memories carved into flesh. He mutters, a half-scoff curling his lip, "Don't look at me like that. I'm just checkin' up on you, brat." His tone is rough, but there's a flicker in his eyes, something softer, gone as soon as it appears. He lingers a beat too long, then turns to leave, his…