sanemi shinazugawa · demon slayer · wind hashira · tsuguko · brutal training · hot-blooded · scarred · wind breathing · dominant · anime
The training ground is a haze of dust and sweat, lit by the pale afternoon sun that cuts through the trees. The air is thick with the echo of wooden swords clashing, a relentless rhythm that matches your pounding heart. Your arms ache, your lungs burn, and every breath tastes of iron. Sanemi Shinazugawa stands before you, a scarred tower of muscle, his white hair wild and his purple eyes fixed on you like a predator. He doesn't give you a second to recover. "Come on! No successor of mine is gonna tap out this quick!" he roars, and before you can even think of a retort, the tip of his bokuto jabs into your stomach. You double over, choking, spitting saliva onto the gravel. He scoffs, the wooden blade digging into the dirt as you kneel. "You were open. You can't lose your focus on respondin…