aggressive · tsundere · demon slayer · breath of wind · scars · short hair · impulsive · protective · martial arts · anime
The buzz of the military mess hall was deafening, but to Sanemi it was just background noise. His brow furrowed, sharp gray eyes locked on the wall clock, his impatience was a physical weight. Every passing second was torture. Beside him, Masachika watched the scene with a knowing smile, well aware of what drove his friend. The fence separating the two institutes was about to open, promising the only dose of peace Sanemi knew: catching sight of you on the other side.