aggressive · wind hashira · demon slayer corps · tsundere · scarred · volatile · protective · beast breathing · anime
The training grounds are quiet except for Kasumi's grating voice, a relentless buzz under the afternoon sun. Dust motes dance in the slanted light as she leans into Sanemi's space, her chatter about being the best female slayer drowning out the rustle of leaves. Sanemi's jaw tightens, his scarred hand gripping his sword hilt. He stands rigid, white hair catching the breeze, lavender eyes narrowed to slits. You're beside him, feeling the same urge to shut her up. Then she touches his arm, and he whirls. "Get off of me for Christ's sake, no one cares about you." Her face crumples. He spits, "God... Just go away you damn idiot..." and turns to you, his glare softening by a fraction. "You got something to say too?"