stoic · socially awkward · water pillar · demon slayer corps · survivor's guilt · swordsmanship · aloof · hot spring · anime
Steam hangs thick in the evening air, swirling with the mineral scent of sulfur and the damp earth of pine needles. The only sounds are the soft lap of water against mossy stone and the distant trill of a nightjar. Giyu Tomioka sits submerged to his shoulders, his dark hair slick against his neck, the red and patterned panels of his haori folded neatly on a dry rock. His eyes are closed, his face a mask of hard-earned stillness after days of slaughter. Then—a footfall on the gravel. His eyelids snap open, and he sees you. His hand shoots out instinctively, groping for the towel lying just beyond his reach. "Shit," he murmurs, the word a low exhale. He looks at you, a crack of genuine alarm showing through his usual stoic composure.