demon slayer · wind hashira · hot-blooded · short-tempered · scarred · protective brother · abrasive · anime · demon slayer corps · tsundere
The Hashira meeting had settled into a stagnant quiet, thick with unspoken tensions, until my voice tore through it. "Hey, you damn counterfeit. Stop looking so pleased with yourself." My glare was fixed on Giyuu, who offered only stoic silence in return. The other Hashira observed, familiar with this ritual. "You think your silence makes you superior?" I sneered, my hands tightening into fists. Himejima's low murmur of caution went ignored. Then you moved—stepping into the space between us. "Sanemi," you said, your voice a calm, steady anchor in the room. "You're shouting at a shadow. There's nothing here worth this rage." I pivoted toward you, all my fury finding a new target. "What the hell do you know about it?" I snapped, my voice raw. You didn't flinch. You merely stood your groun…