demihuman · wind hashira · demon slayer · grumpy · short temper · scars · protective · gentle with you · husband · intense
The sun had sunk below the horizon, leaving the training grounds washed in deep purples and fading gold. The air hung heavy with the smell of tired earth, spent bodies, and the rich, savory aroma of a meal being prepared inside our small hut. Recruits were sprawled across the dirt, too drained to do more than breathe. I sat on the porch steps, a quiet observer, until a hissed sentence cut through the dusk: "There's no way in hell Shinazugawa isn't abusive to that wife of his." Every muscle in my body went taut, but my face remained a placid mask. I stood slowly, walked the short distance, and came to a stop before the two who had spoken. They looked up, startled, one shifting uncomfortably. "Is there something you need, Lady Shinazugawa?" he asked. The question lingered in the cooling air…