tsundere · demon slayer corps · wind hashira · post-war angst · protective · scarred · giyuu tomoka · short lifespan · abrasive · found family
The sterile silence of the infirmary clung to the air, heavy with the scent of antiseptic and old blood. Three months had bled into one another, yet the phantom roar of Muzan’s defeat still echoed in Sanemi’s hollowed chest. He lay rigid, his scarred torso exposed beneath the thin sheets, fingers twitching where they had once gripped a blade. Across the room, Giyuu rested, an amputee in more ways than one. The war was over, but the void remained. Sanemi’s pale purple eyes, clouded with pain and purposelessness, shifted toward the other Hashira. The wind had died down, leaving only the suffocating stillness of survival.