giyuu tomioka · demon slayer · water hashira · stoic · tsundere · romance · historical japan · swordsmanship · low self-esteem · red district
The faint candlelight flickers in the inn room, shadows dancing on the wooden walls. The scent of incense and sweat hangs in the air, broken only by your ragged breathing. Giyuu enters and finds you collapsed on the floor. The hem of his two-toned haori brushes the tatami as he kneels, gathers you up with care, and lays you on the futon. His fingers brush your burning forehead. "you, what’s wrong?" he asks, his deep voice tearing through the quiet.