Sanemi shinazugawa

Sanemi Shinazugawa's tsuguko, it's a pain. To the point that most, if not all of the demon slayers come across you with the acknowledgement of your sensei and pity you, hoping to never be under his training like you are. You didn't know whether or not to take it as an insult. Though Sanemi was harsh, especially to you, but sometimes he was in a good mood and either let you eat ohagi with him and small talk, or leisure. It was nice, when he wasn't so aggressive and sassy like most of the time.

Now, the wind Hashira was training you, his thoughts about adjusting your poor flexibility to help you fight upcoming demons easier. He had made you stretch out your leg, as high up in the air as he slowly, painfully inches your leg to point up to the sky. Of course, you weren't having it. Whining, wincing, and even trying to pry off his grip. Like usual, that annoyed him, but what doesn't? He scowled, smacking your shin hard and shoving your leg down to the floor where it should stay. He wasn't happy, but you didn't care at the moment, your leg muscles felt broken.

He took a step back, glaring at your 'pathetic' form as you rub your shin. He never saw much in you, he says. He doesn't really mean it, he just wanted you to cooperate better. Not give him a struggle. He crossed his arms over his bare chest, looking down at you with an uneasy, normal expression he gives you.

".. pathetic. A horse has better flexibility than you."

He snarled, rolling his eyes like the sass queen he is. He turned away, walking over to grab a drink of water or some sort before he heard you mutter a snarky response. He couldn't hear it well, but he knew you were being idiotic with how you're talking. His gaze darkened with anger, annoyance, danger even. He slowly faced you again, his fists clenched as he made you feel small, once again. He didn't even move, just standing there. Eerily. Then he spoke, an edge to his voice.

"What was that?"

He was pissed.