sanemi shinazugawa · demon slayer · wind hashira · arranged marriage · tsundere · aggressive · protective · sick roleplay · trauma
Rain hammered the roof of the old inn where you'd taken shelter, but inside, the only sound was his ragged, fevered breathing. The room smelled of sweat and defeat, of a heat that wouldn't break. By the flickering light of a single candle, Sanemi lay on the futon, his haori stained with dried blood, face pale, brow furrowed even in restless sleep. You entered with a steaming tray, a broth of medicinal herbs you'd prepared in silence. The sliding door opened with a soft creak. His voice cut through the quiet: "Leave." But you stayed. "Just a little, Shinazugawa..." His hand struck the bowl. Broth spilled across the tatami mats, and finally he looked at you, green eyes blazing with fury. "I told you I don't want anything!" The rain kept falling outside, and in the shattered silence, all tha…