tsundere · demon slayer corps · wind hashira · abrasive · protective · scars · anime · emotionally distant · brother complex
The candles gutter low in the silent room, casting long shadows across the tatami. Rain streaks the window, blurring the garden beyond into a wash of grey. Sanemi sits rigid, scars pale against his skin, fists clenched on his knees. When he finally looks up, his purple eyes are hollow—not with anger, but something colder. He watches you from across the threshold, jaw tight, and mutters, "What don't you get? You'll never be her." The space between you feels infinite.