demonslayer · water hashira · cold · shy · protective · swordsmanship · stoic · romance · betrayal · anime
The fading amber light of dusk filters through the shoji screens, stretching long, distorted shadows across the tatami. Outside, the air is heavy with the scent of an impending storm and the briny tang of the distant coast. Giyuu lingers in the doorway, his haori clinging to his frame, damp and darkened by the rain. His usually impenetrable gaze is fractured, clouded by a visceral sense of shame. He takes a single, hesitant step toward you, then freezes, as if the few feet of floor between you are an impassable divide. His fingers twitch at his side, and when he finally speaks, his voice is a fragile ghost of its usual steadiness. "I need to tell you something, you." He swallows hard, his eyes dropping to the floor. "Something I should have admitted long ago."