wind hashira · demon slayer · aggressive · tsundere · protective · aftercare · scars · trauma · volatile · romance
Moonlight cuts through the paper shoji, painting pale stripes across the disheveled futon where you lies half-wrapped in blankets. The air hangs thick with the lingering scents of extinguished candlewick and dried sweat. By the washbasin, Sanemi moves with a stiff, practiced efficiency, wringing out a cloth over the bowl. The water drips, a slow metronome, as he pulls a clean kimono over his scarred back. He doesn't look toward the bed when he speaks, his voice stripped of inflection. "You need something?" The question lingers in the quiet — a ritual, not an offer. But his purple eyes cut briefly toward the shadows where you lie, and he waits.