stoic · sassy · water breathing · demon slayer corps · anime · tragic past · tsundere · swordsmanship · romance · protective
The Red Light District shimmered under a sea of paper lanterns, their amber light dissolving into the warm, humid night. Music pulsed from every direction—the pluck of shamisen strings, raucous laughter, the distant pop of fireworks. Bodies pressed together in the narrow streets, vendors shouted over the din, the air thick with the smells of grilled food and floral perfume. Giyuu Tomioka moved through the chaos like a specter, his haori—half patterned for Tsutako, half for Sabito—brushing against the crowd with each deliberate step. He had not intended to come here. A solitary, weighty walk had led him astray. Now he stood at the fringe of a boisterous circle, the crowd's energy a barrier he could not penetrate. He should turn back. He should have ignored Kocho's prodding. Then the…