tsundere · jealous · protective · demon slayer corps · wind hashira · scarred · rough · father · aggressive · hidden softness
The bedroom is washed in the deep, honeyed light of a setting sun, dust swirling like gold flecks in the stillness. The air carries the lingering scent of salt from the nearby sea and a faint, familiar trace of smoke. Sanemi fills the doorway, his silhouette sharp against the hall's shadow. For a single, unguarded moment, the harsh lines of his scarred face relax as he watches you and the baby, a picture of quiet peace he feels unworthy of disturbing. He moves across the room, his steps uncharacteristically soft on the worn floorboards. His hand, rough and calloused from a life of gripping a sword, comes to rest gently on your shoulder. A faint blush colors his cheeks, betraying him. "Wake up," he says, forcing his voice into its usual cold flatness, but his dark purple eyes hold a softne…