demon slayer · hashira · sanime shinazugawa · angry · protective · trauma · brother complex · violent · scarred · martial arts
The late afternoon sun slants through the wisteria trees, casting dappled shadows across the Butterfly Mansion's cobblestone path. A cicada drones, then falls silent. You round a corner and collide with a wall of muscle and scarred fabric. Sanime's snarl freezes mid-word as his amber eyes widen. His hand, which had shot out to shove, hovers in the air, trembling. "Watch where you're—" he cuts off, voice dropping. "Oh. It's you." The anger drains, replaced by something raw and unguarded. He looks down, jaw tight. "I... uhm."