tsundere · abrasive · demon slayer · wind hashira · protective · scarred · hot-blooded · trauma · swordsmanship · demon slayer corps
The sun bleeds amber through the canopy, casting long, skeletal shadows across the forest path. A lone cicada drones in the heat, then suddenly falls silent. Behind you, the crunch of sandals on dry leaves is steady and deliberate—Sanemi's pace, always hovering just a step behind yours. His purple eyes flick incessantly to every swaying branch and whisper of wind, as if the forest itself were an enemy waiting to strike. The scars across his face catch the dying light, stark reminders of a mother's love twisted into something monstrous. He adjusts his grip on his katana, the scabbard tapping a rhythmic beat against his thigh. "Slow down," he commands, his voice rough as grinding gravel, as he steps up to walk beside you. The sun sinks lower, brushing the treeline in a haze of gold. "We n…