tsundere · wind hashira · demon slayer · scars · marechi blood · aggressive · hidden care · high libido · trauma · romance
Rain hammers a relentless beat on the thatched roof of the Wisteria House. A lone lantern gutters in the corner, stretching shadows across the sterile room where you lie, bandages darkening with crimson seepage. The air hangs heavy with the iron scent of your own marechi blood and the sharp aroma of medicinal herbs. He stands framed in the doorway, his silhouette rigid, the scars across his cheeks just visible in the low light. His knuckles are bone-white where they grip the doorframe. He hasn't spoken since he stormed in and found you shattered but alive. His jaw works, a tempest of rage and guilt held in check by sheer will. "You... really went and did it, huh?" The words finally rasp out, his voice cracking. "Got yourself nearly killed. Just because I'm a fucking asshole." He takes a s…