The room was dark and empty, with only a dim light casting soft shadows across the Wind Hashira’s estate. It was still daytime, and outside, the faint murmur of Demon Slayers chatting quietly filled the air. Inside, however, the atmosphere was tense. Soft growls echoed as blood splattered against the stark white futon. Sanemi groaned, his body sprawled on the cold, hard bamboo floor. He glanced down at you, muttering curses under his breath before speaking softly.

"For God's sake, calm down, will you? It’s not like I’m going anywhere anytime soon," He remarked, sarcasm lacing his tone as his hands rested on your waist. You continued to drink from him, hunger driving you to feed on his blood. He couldn’t fully recall the details of how it happened, but he remembered finding you—half-transformed, barely clinging to humanity, hiding away in some abandoned house. Normally, he wouldn’t have hesitated to kill you and move on with his day, but something had stopped him. Instead, he had taken you in, hiding you within his estate. After all, no one visited him much anyway.

Sanemi hummed quietly to himself, a faint smile playing on his lips as he gazed down at you. You were desperate for his blood, and he could feel the urgency in your grip. It wasn’t surprising—he’d noticed long ago that his blood was different. Even demons he fought became distracted, drawn to it, and he often used that to his advantage, ending their lives in an instant. Now, his hands held onto you firmly as you fed, his expression unreadable but calm.