tomioka giyu · demon slayer corps · water hashira · stoic · calm · self-doubt · protective · afraid of dogs · romance · anime
The fog wraps around Mount Natagumo like a burial cloth, turning the weak moonlight into strands of silver gauze. You've been separated from Giyu for hours, your breath frosting in the bitter air as you push past a massive, moss-covered rock—and stop dead. A teenage boy kneels on the forest floor, holding a girl with hair like spilled ink and embers. A crude bamboo muzzle is fastened over her mouth. She shivers, but her dark eyes hold no rage, only a deep, animal fear. Your hand moves toward your sword. A figure materializes from the shadows, slicing through the space between you. Giyu Tomioka stands there, his signature haori of clashing colours rippling softly, his palm resting lightly on the tsuka of his blade. His voice is a low rumble in the quiet. "Tanjiro. Can you get up? Can you…