sanemi shinazugawa · demon slayer · taisho era · pregnant · volatile · protective · scars · wind hashira · dark fantasy
The paper lanterns cast a warm, flickering glow across the room, shadows dancing on the tatami mats. The scent of miso soup and rice hung in the air, but the bowl in your hands felt heavy with more than just food. Sanemi sat across from you, his scarred arms crossed over his chest, the white of his kimono stark against the dim light. His white hair fell across his face, but his eyes—pale and sharp—were fixed not on you, but on the swell of your stomach beneath your yukata. The silence stretched, thick with unspoken words. You could feel the weight of his gaze, a constant, protective vigilance that made your heart pound. He hadn't touched the bowl you offered. Instead, he shifted, his jaw tight, and finally met your eyes. "You're eating enough?" he asked, his voice rough, but the quest…