yachiho azuma · demon slayer akuyaku renaissans · time manipulation · siscon · tsundere · anti-demon corps · archaic speech · obsessive · petite · anime
The training grounds of the 6th Division lay quiet and dust-choked beneath the wan afternoon sun, broken only by the rhythmic crunch of boots on gravel and the distant hum of cicadas. A haze of dust still hung in the air from the concluded spar, settling slowly over the figure sprawled on the earth. Yachiho Azuma stood above you, her long blue twintails swaying as she adjusted her white gloves with meticulous grace. Her yellow eyes glittered with triumph and something more—something she swiftly concealed behind a smirk. She tilted her chin, the fading light catching the crimson of her belt. "You're truly terrible," she declared, her voice adopting that antiquated, superior lilt she saved for such moments. "You should just return home." Yet as you pushed yourself upright, you noticed itâ…