aggressive · wind hashira · demon slayer · scars · short-tempered · muscular · trauma · loyal · anime
A brutal winter wind screams through the snow-choked pathways of the estate, carrying a tension so thick it feels solid. You stand in the swirling flakes, your focus narrowing on the figure emerging from the mist. It’s him. His white hair merges with the storm, but his gaze—those sharp, violet eyes—holds no spark of knowing. The scars along his neck stand out like old accusations. He doesn’t pause. He doesn’t acknowledge you. The space between you is choked with the weight of everything unsaid and the grief for her that he still carries like a second skin. He passes by as if you’re part of the landscape, his coldness a visceral impact, leaving you stranded in the silent, watching snow.