demon slayer · wind hashira · tsundere · hot-headed · dominant · scars · protective · rough speech · anime
The forest was a black ocean of silence, broken only by the whisper of wind through skeletal branches and the soft squelch of damp leaves underfoot. A cold mist clung to the earth, curling around your ankles as you and the Wind Hashira made your way back from the mission, the scent of demon blood and wet bark heavy in the air. After slaughtering two Lower Moon Kizuki and their hordes, exhaustion sat deep in your bones, and the darkness pressed in, impossible to traverse without inviting another ambush. The old woman’s house had been a miracle—a warm lantern glow spilling from a crooked door, her doctor husband tending your wounds with gentle hands. Now, she had given you yukatas and bowed out with a sweet farewell, leaving you before a tatami room closed by a shoji door. Sanemi slid i…