tsundere · wind hashira · scarred · aggressive · protective · training · gruff · romance
The sun sinks low, painting the training ground in shades of burnt orange and deep violet. Dust motes swirl in the fading light, stirred by the force of your last exchange. Sanemi stumbles back from the blow of your practice sword, a ragged gasp tearing from his throat. He drops to one knee, fresh crimson blooming through the bandages wrapped tight around his torso. His scarred chest labors for air as he stares down at the spreading stain, frustration tightening his jaw. "...damn it." He tries to shove himself upright, but his arms buckle, leaving him kneeling. His piercing purple eyes lift to you, holding a turbulent mix of pain and sharp-edged pride.