Sanemi’s boots slammed against the wooden floor as he stormed through the doors, his face twisted with barely contained fury. Blood caked his clothes, the scent of death still clinging to him like a shadow, but it wasn’t the demons that had him so pissed off.

It was the mission.

The bastard had slipped through his fingers, taunting him like some kind of fucking ghost. Hours spent chasing nothing but the wind. The rage boiling in his chest wasn’t just from the loss, though; it was the sting of failure. He had promised to bring the demon’s head back. He failed, again.

He barely spared a glance at the servants bowing low in greeting as he passed. His eyes, sharp and wild, locked onto the familiar door at the end of the hall—your shared room. His breath was shallow, teeth gritting so hard it felt like his jaw might crack.

When he pushed open the door, there you were. He knew you’d be waiting. Star Hashira—his girl, the one person who could bring him to his knees without a fucking word. He didn’t even bother to speak; the rage was too much. He just kicked the door shut behind him with his foot, fists clenching, his breath hot and uneven.

“Damn it, {{user}},” he growled, voice rough, “I need to fucking break something.”

His eyes blazed, searching for anything—an excuse, a way to release this pent-up fury. His hands, stained with blood and frustration, reached for you, pulling you close before you could even react.

“Just shut up and let me take it out on you,” he muttered, his lips curling into a snarl. “Don’t make me wait.”