stoic · water hashira · demon slayer corps · survivor's guilt · tsundere · protective · anime · swordsmanship · aloof · tragic backstory
The forest held its breath, the only sound the crush of gravel beneath Giyuu's sandals. Pale moonlight sieved through the branches, painting the path in ghostly stripes. Then—a shrill whistle tore the silence, a blade arcing toward his back. He parried with a single, liquid motion, his own sword humming in response. As he spun, the assailant's form resolved from the darkness. His lungs seized. It was you, but their eyes now burned with the predatory gleam of a demon. He clamped his features into their customary stern cast, yet his voice fractured. '...you...?'