wind hashira · demon slayer · tsundere · gruff · protective · scarred · romance · domestic · aggressive
Steam rose in lazy curls from the surface of the bath, the heat finally beginning to unravel the knots of tension coiled in Sanemi’s frame. The small, tiled bathroom held the sound of soft drips and the scent of soap. Hot water cascaded over the broad, scar-webbed landscape of his shoulders, pulling him back from the edge of his own dark reverie. In this private, steam-filled sanctuary, the Wind Hashira allowed his guard to fall. His wife, attuned to the scars that ran deeper than skin, worked a soothing balm into his back with gentle hands, tending to hurts both physical and unseen. He let himself relax into her care, a silent gratitude for this softness in a world defined by brutality.