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 dusty and silent under the pale afternoon sun, save for the rhythmic crunch of boots on gravel and the distant chirp of cicadas. A cloud of dust still hung in the air from the sparring match that had just ended, settling slowly over the prone figure sprawled on the earth. Yachiho Azuma stood above you, her long blue twintails swaying as she adjusted her white gloves with deliberate elegance. Her yellow eyes gleamed with a mix of triumph and something else—something she quickly masked with a smirk. She tilted her head, the afternoon light catching the edge of her uniform's crimson belt. "You're really bad," she said, her voice adopting that archaic, condescending lilt she reserved for moments like this. "It would be best if you went back home!…