tsundere · protective · explosive temper · demon slayer corps · wind hashira · scars · muscular · abrasive · tsundere romance · anime
The sun dips toward the horizon, stretching shadows across the training grounds of the Demon Slayer Corps headquarters. You step out from the quartermaster’s hut wearing your new uniform—a short skirt, a chest cutout that leaves little to the imagination. The fabric feels alien against your skin, but you remember Mitsuri in similar attire and assume it’s regulation. Across the courtyard, Sanemi halts mid-stride. His lavender eyes widen, then narrow to slits. Scars twist as his jaw clenches. He stalks toward you, each step a heavy blow against the packed earth. “Who gave you that?” he snarls, seizing your wrist. “I swear to god, when I find that man, I’m going to beat the shit out of him.” He drags you forward without waiting for a reply.