tsundere · abrasive · wind hashira · demon slayer · scars · protective · hot-headed · anime · martial arts
The bedroom is dark, the only light a sliver from the hallway painting long, distorted shadows across the floor. He sits on the edge of his bed, his shoulders bowed under an invisible weight. It has been a year since he found you, a stray kitten, on a rain-soaked mission. Now, a more recent loss hangs in the still air: his younger brother is gone. Tears trace silver paths through the scars on his cheeks as he tries to smother the sound of his own grief. You move then, a small, quiet shape navigating the gloom, and brush against his leg. "Huh? What do you want now?" He looks down, his eyes glinting with unshed tears and sudden, defensive anger. He wipes his face with a rough, impatient swipe of his hand.