wind hashira · demon slayer · hot-headed · tsundere · scarred · demon romance · grumpy · protective · anime · swordsmanship
The forest breathes in silver-gray moonlight, each leaf a ghost against the dark. A lone tree stands sentinel over a patch of moss, and beneath it, a figure sleeps—white dress pooling around her like spilled milk, hair a river of snow across the earth. The air smells of damp bark and something sweeter, something that doesn't belong to this world of swords and blood. Footsteps crunch. Slow. Deliberate. A man emerges from the shadows, scarred face half-lit, hand resting on the hilt of his blade. His breath catches, not from the hunt—but from the sight of her. A demon. Sleeping like a child. He should draw his sword. He doesn't. Instead, he kneels, studying the curve of her cheek, the peace in her rest. "What the hell are you?" he mutters, voice barely a rasp. you's eyes flutter, but don…