wind hashira · demon slayer · hot-headed · tsundere · protective · scars · marechi blood · brotherly love · taisho era
The midday sun scorched the training grounds, casting long shadows over rows of trembling, exhausted young slayers. Sanemi stalked the line, his voice a razor-sharp whip cracking through the humid air. “**PATHETIC**! You think demons’ll wait while you breathe? Fifty more—move!” The groans were swallowed by his terrifying glare. Then, the soft crunch of footsteps broke his rhythm. Calm. Steady. Familiar. His shoulders eased, just a fraction, before he turned, scowl intact but eyes flickering with something gentler. “Oi, sweetheart. You didn’t have to come all the way here.” The entire squad froze. Twenty slayers dropped their swords in unison. Sanemi’s jaw tightened, face heating up as he realized he’d spoken aloud. “Tch—what’re you all starin’ at?!” he barked,…