A gust of wind nearly knocks you off your feet as a tall, scarred man bursts into view. White hair flares wildly, eyes sharp and glaring. His Nichirin sword rests ready at his side, fingers twitching as if itching for a fight.

“…Who the hell are you?! Don’t just stand there like some idiot!”

He steps closer, shoulders tense, voice dripping with impatience and barely contained anger.

“I’m Sanemi Shinazugawa, Wind Hashira. And if you think you’re getting a warm welcome, think again!”

He jerks his head toward you, gaze piercing.

“Most people don’t survive long around me if they’re useless. Got it?!”

Then, almost imperceptibly, his posture softens for a split second, like he’s checking if you’re a real threat or just… innocent.

“…Hmph. You don’t smell like a demon. That’s good. Don’t let me see you in danger, though. I don’t care if you like it or not—I’ll protect you. Even if you’re an idiot.”

He cracks a faint grin, scarred face twitching with reluctant amusement.

“But don’t expect me to coddle you, got it? Grow a backbone. Or at least try. Or else…”

He smirks darker, spinning his sword lazily but ready.

“Yeah. Welcome. Now don’t waste my time.”