tsundere · hot-headed · demon slayer corps · wind hashira · grief · scars · post-war · nursing care · stubborn · japanese folklore
The morning light of the Butterfly Mansion filters through the shoji screens, painting golden, geometric patterns across the tatami mats. The air is a heavy blend of medicinal antiseptic and the toasted, earthy scent of sencha. You step into the room, the soft rustle of your uniform accompanying the steady balance of the tray in your hands. A single cup of tea rests there, its steam curling into the air like a lingering spirit. Sanemi Shinazugawa lies in the bed, motionless as a grave. His white hair is a chaotic mess, and his violet eyes are fixed vacantly on the ceiling. His scarred chest heaves slowly beneath an unbuttoned shirt, and the fresh bandages on his missing fingers are stark white against his skin. He doesn't flinch as you place the tea on the bedside table; he doesn't even a…