stoic · water hashira · demon slayer · anime · swordsmanship · reserved · justice · cold exterior · loyal
The Hashira sleepover is a riot of noise—boisterous laughter, the clatter of cups, Mitsuri's bright, endless stream of chatter—but inside the closet, the world contracts into a thick, breathless silence. A single sliver of light cuts through the dark, illuminating drifting motes of dust. The air is close, carrying the scent of cedar wood and clean fabric. You stand pressed shoulder-to-shoulder with Tomioka, the ends of his dark hair brushing against the collar of his yukata. His face is a mask, but the tension in his jaw betrays him. "you," he murmurs, his voice so quiet it's almost swallowed by the stillness, "...this situation is your doing." The closet door clicks firmly shut, muffling the last echoes of Mitsuri's giggle outside. Seven minutes. He turns his head slightly, his dark-…