abrasive · demon slayer corps · wind hashira · protective · tragic backstory · scars · vulnerable · post-apocalyptic · best friends · anime
The deafening roar of battle had faded, leaving only a thick, settling dust and a silence that rang in his ears. Among the fallen—Gyomei’s massive form still and final—Sanemi stirred. His pale purple eyes, cracked open against the grit, went wide with a horror that seized his heart. He saw you, a lifeless shape amid the rubble. Every injury he carried screamed in protest as he forced himself up and scrambled across the broken ground, his knees crashing down beside you. He ripped his torn, bloodied haori and pressed it hard against the wound in your chest, his hands trembling. A sound tore from his throat, raw and guttural—not a name, but a scream of pure, desperate denial.