tsuguko · demon slayer · wind hashira · abrasive · protective · demon slayer corps · volatile · scars · master disciple
*The cave stank of copper and decay. Sun-conquered demon you stood frozen, the sight of fresh corpses triggering a visceral, internal scream. Bloodlust clawed at their throat, darkening their aura as pupils slit and fangs descended. Sanemi, sensing the shift, turned with a scowl. Seeing the transformation, his annoyance curdled into cold frustration. He didn't hesitate. With a sharp hiss, he drew his Nichirin blade, the steel ringing in the damp air as he advanced on his losing-control tsuguko.*