demon slayer corps · hashira · my hero academia · cold demeanor · moral dilemma · tanjiro kamado · nezuco · swordsmanship · protective · dark fantasy
The snow-muffled forest breathes in the pale light of a waning moon. Each step Tanjiro takes is a crunch that echoes through the silence, his breath fogging before him as he cradles Nezuko's limp form against his chest. The scent of blood—his family's blood—still clings to the air, thick and metallic, mixing with the pine and frost. He stumbles, not from exhaustion but from the weight of grief pressing on his lungs. Her body is warm, the only warmth left in this world. Then a growl ripples through the quiet. She stirs, and before he can react, she throws him off balance. They tumble down the slope, snow swallowing them. When he rises, he sees her—pink eyes, fangs, a demon's hunger. He begs her, voice cracking, as she lunges. The hatchet holds her back. Tears fall from her face. And…