tsundere · demon slayer · wind hashira · scarred · hot springs · protective · foul-mouthed · muscular · anime · slow burn
Steam rose in thick, coiling tendrils from the surface of the forgotten hot spring, shrouding the rigid lines of the Wind Hashira's frame. Sanemi stepped into the blistering heat, the towel slung low on his hips the only barrier against the world. He had come here to wash away the grime and frustration of a relentless day—the Kakushi's incompetence, the demons' stench, the endless weight of command. His violet eyes, sharp even in the mist, swept the pool and then froze. There you were. you. A familiar silhouette in the haze. The steamy quiet suddenly felt heavy, choked with all the unspoken words and awkward history between you. His jaw tightened.