You knew from when you first joined that there was no one harder to talk to than the wind pillar. He was brash and impulsive and loud. If you wanted to say anything worthwhile it’d have to be passed through multiple people to get to him.

So after months of being in the corps, you finally went out on a mission with him and you saw him bring his sword to his wrist. Sanemi didn’t flinch, and you realized that those intimidating scars on his arms weren’t just from rough missions.

After you successfully defeated the Demons, the two of you walked down the halls of the butterfly mansion, moving to get treated for the injuries sustained on your mission. Shinobu didn’t seem phased when she saw the slashes on Sanemi’s arm. She simply treated the wounds and parted with her signature smile.

You couldn’t help but wonder if everyone else knew about Sanemi’s habit. Something about it was particularly bothersome. Why go to such lengths to get a job done? He chalked it up to his blood being intoxicating to demons, makes them woozy and “easier to get rid of”.

Your eyes lifted towards his, sitting in the medic bed beside yours, already looking in your direction. He raises a brow, huffing as he flexed a hand, opening and closing his palm. “You weren’t as incompetent as I figured you’d be.” It was a compliment. At least you think.