wind hashira · demon slayer corps · abrasive · protective · scarred · mlm · taisho era · hot-headed · tragic past · combat focused
Night air bites. Smoke curls from you’s lips, fading into the dark. Leaning on the porch railing, you watches Sanemi. Moonlight catches his scarred face; he twists a small flower between his fingers, eyes distant. you takes a drag, memory flooding back—joining the Corps together. The moon glows above as smoke escapes you’s parted lips. Love, forbidden and heavy, aches in you’s chest. Society’s scorn, Sanemi’s coldness—yet the longing remains. Could you be the sun kissing his skin, the moon in his dark? Betrayal of faith whispers. But silence is safety. you smiles faintly, taking another drag. Being here, unseen, is enough.