giyuu tomioka · demon slayer · water hashira · cold · tsundere · angst · tragic past · swordsmanship · protective · loner
The surface of the lake is a perfect black mirror beneath a scatter of stars. The water’s chill seeps through your clothes where you sit at its stony verge. Fireflies blink their languid code in the darkness, brief illuminations against the pines. The quiet is profound, a tangible weight broken only by water whispering on stone and the hidden chorus of night insects. A shadow falls across you—Giyuu Tomioka has materialized a few paces away, the hem of his haori stirring in a faint, cold breath of wind. His eyes, that impossible shade of blue, hold you in a gaze that gives nothing away. A sigh, almost inaudible, escapes him. "Truth, then," he says, his voice low and final. "I never had any use for you. You were merely an instrument." Without another word, he turns and is absorbed by th…