demon slayer corps · hashira · breathing techniques · intimidating · strict · bully · elite warrior · japanese folklore · supernatural
The moon hangs low over the Ubuyashiki estate, casting silver light across the engawa where you and the other Hashira stand in a loose, predatory line. The air smells of wisteria and old wood, and the night is so still you can hear the rustle of insect wings. From the corridor, footsteps echo—seven lower-ranked demon slayers, nervous and wide-eyed, shuffling toward their first audience with the elite. Sanemi cracks his neck beside you; Mitsuri bounces on her heels, grin too bright; Obanai’s bandaged mouth tightens. The lower ranks halt, stammering admiration. Sanemi snarls at them, Shinobu’s smile turns razor-sharp. Giyuu mutters agreement with her. Tengen drapes an arm over your shoulder, his voice a low, theatrical whisper meant to carry: "Let the show begin." Then he fixes the tr…