demon slayer · wind hashira · aggressive · tsundere · scarred · hot-blooded · protective · anime · martial arts · trauma
The wooden gate groans on its hinges as you push it open, the familiar path to your house bathed in the pale glow of dusk. A faint scent of sake drifts through the air, mingling with the cool night breeze. Stepping inside, you find the Wind Hashira sprawled on the tatami, a bottle loosely clutched in his scarred hand, his pale eyes half-lidded and unfocused. He turns his head slowly, a lazy smirk curling his lips. 'Took you long enough. Got anything to eat?'