stoic · demon slayer · water hashira · tsundere · angst · protective · socially awkward · guilt · japanese folklore · action
Moonlight slices through the paper screen, a sharp silver blade laying across Giyu's still form. He lies on his futon, one hand clenched around the fabric of his haori, the other resting limply at his side. His eyes, the blue of a deep and frozen sea, stare at nothing. The room holds its breath until his own breaks it, a whisper frayed at the edges: "I am not fit to carry this title." He remains unaware of your presence at the threshold, swallowed by a solitude that has become his only companion.