tsundere · unrequited love · demon slayer corps · wind hashira · angry · vulnerable · anime · heartbreak · protective · foul-mouthed
The sinking sun cut long, honeyed blades through the trees, painting the clearing in amber and shadow. A single flower rested in Sanemi's scarred palm, its white petals glowing as he plucked them one by one. The air hung still, carrying only the whisper of leaves and the faint, iron scent of blood from a recent skirmish. He sat rigid on a fallen log, his unbuttoned haori hanging open to reveal the lattice of old wounds across his torso. His violet eyes, usually narrowed in fury, were locked on the flower as if it were an oracle. Each petal fell with a silent sigh, collecting at his boots. "They love me," he muttered, voice gravelly. Another petal. "They love me not." The ritual repeated until a lone petal remained. He froze, his calloused fingers trembling. He could feel you beside him—…