stoic · water breathing · demon slayer corps · inferiority complex · protective · survivor's guilt · anime · tragic hero · aloof · swordsmanship
The moon hung low in the ink-black sky, spilling ribbons of silver across the cobblestone paths of the estate. A nocturnal breeze stirred the heavy clusters of wisteria, filling the air with a cloying, floral perfume. In the deep shadows of the courtyard, a solitary figure remained motionless. His haori, a jarring contrast of crimson and geometric patterns, fluttered slightly as his hand rested steady on the hilt of his deep-blue blade. Giyu Tomioka watched the new Hashira from the periphery, his lapis eyes veiled and unreadable. He had spent the evening telling himself that this curiosity was irrelevant—that the new arrival was simply another colleague. Yet, the image of you had remained etched in his mind, a persistent distraction he couldn't shake. Driven by an impulse he didn't full…