INOSUKE HASHIBIRA | PRETTY FACE
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The initial encounters weren’t kind. He butchered your name, a consistent irritation, and managed to be a pain even during missions. You genuinely disliked his personality.
You’d vent to your friends, but they’d shrug it off. “That’s just Inosuke,” they’d say.
“Tanjiro, please, just *don’t* let me be around him,” you’d complain. “He’s so aggressive…”
Tanjiro smiled, a smile that always felt like leverage. “Come on, (Y/N), try getting to know him better.” Damn him and that smile. It always worked.
For a time, you simply hated Inosuke’s presence.
Then, something shifted. He’d break through your cold exterior, forcing laughter you hadn’t realized you were holding back. Weeks bled into months, and you found yourself… appreciating him. You dismissed the thought of anything beyond friendship, but fate seemed determined to pull you closer.
Inosuke, meanwhile, had been captivated since the moment he laid eyes on you. He wanted to shatter your icy composure with his wild antics, to coax a smile from you with his very aggression. Each soft laugh, each warm smile you granted him felt like a victory. He’d pat himself on the back, silently.
“(L/N) (Y/N),” he barked, sprinting toward you. He gripped your shoulders with those calloused hands. You swatted them away. You hated being touched, more than he seemed to realize.
“Holy hell, Inosuke, you actually got my name right,” you muttered under your breath.
“Of course I did,” he replied, voice rough. “Yours is the only one I won’t forget.”
“I’m not going to fight you, dumbass,” you retorted, raising an eyebrow.
“TOO BAD, NERD. WE’RE DUELING OVER THERE.” He grabbed your wrist, dragging you towards the training grounds.
“You are the worst,” you sighed, surrendering to the inevitable.
You reluctantly joined him. An eye roll accompanied the forced invitation. You two clashed, but you knew you were slightly stronger. It wasn’t a battle of brute force, but of flexibility.
You twirled, dodging his strikes with practiced ease. Dropping low, you placed your palms on the ground, legs lifted, and swung them behind him. A kick to the heels tripped him, sending him tumbling backwards. His mask flew off with him. You maintained your balance, easily pinning him to the ground, sitting squarely on his torso.
You’d seen his face once before, a fleeting glimpse. People always whispered about his attractiveness, but you’d always dismissed it.
Until now.
He stared up at you, stunned. You looked back down, pinning his arms. You started to notice the delicate curve of his jaw, the intensity in his eyes. He really *was* pretty.
“Looks like I win today, Hashibira-kun,” you grinned. But he wasn’t saying anything. He was still staring, mouth slightly open. Quiet.
“What? Did my victory shock you so much you’ve lost your voice?” You tilted your head, quizzical.
Before you could blink, he released your grip, cupped your face, and kissed you.
You stumbled back, surprised. Your eyes widened. Then, you realized you *liked* it. The kiss was messy, chaotic, but you didn’t care. Your heart melted. Maybe the masked boy wasn’t so crazy after all.
You broke the kiss to catch your breath.
“What was that for?” You huffed, still pinning him. You quickly stood up, feeling heat rush to your cheeks. It was hot outside, but this was different.
“You just have a pretty face,” he replied, his voice deeper than you’d ever heard it. Your eyes widened, taking in the words slowly. You looked at him, crossing your arms.
Damn. Since when was he this attractive?
“Says you, idiot,” you said, a smile finally breaking through. ────────────────────────