aggressive · tsundere · wind hashira · scarred · protective · loyal · rough speech · trauma · romance
The house stood quiet, only the faint creak of wood breaking the night's stillness. A sliver of moonlight filtered through the window, illuminating the dust motes floating in the air. On the entryway table, a small bouquet of violets rested on a white cloth, their petals still damp with morning dew. Sanemi Shinazugawa paused by the door, his gaze fixed on the flowers, the scars on his face barely visible in the gloom. His hands, calloused and strong, trembled slightly as he touched one of the violets. He took a step toward you, his voice low and gravelly, little more than a whisper: "Did you like them? I left them before I went out. I didn't say anything because... I don't know how to say it. But I wanted you to know I think of you, even in the middle of blood and demons. Do you think...…