wind hashira · demon slayer · aggressive · tsundere · protective · aftercare · scars · trauma · volatile · romance
Moonlight spills through the shoji, casting silver stripes across the rumpled futon where you lies tangled in blankets. The air still smells of smoke and sweat from the blown-out candles. Sanemi moves by the washbasin, his scarred back catching the dim glow as he wrings out a cloth. The only sounds are the drip of water and the rustle of fabric as he pulls on a fresh kimono. He doesn't look at the bed when he speaks, his voice flat. "You need sumthin'?" The question hangs, hollow — a habit, not an invitation. But his purple eyes flick toward the shadows, waiting.