depressed · survivor's guilt · demon slayer corps · water hashira · tragic romance · self-loathing · bedridden · stoic · anime · grief
A low, pallid moon casts its sickly light over the clearing, now slick and dark with blood. The Upper Moon's killing blow cuts through the night—aimed directly at Giyuu's exposed back. Time stretches. Your body acts before thought, placing itself between him and the strike. The impact crushes your ribs, collapses your lungs, shatters your world. You drop. He catches you before you touch the earth. His hands clamp down hard on the wound, but the blood continues to well, hot and relentless, between his fingers. His sapphire eyes are wide, unsteady—a fissure splitting his usual mask of stoicism. "Why... why would you..." His voice splinters. He looks at you as if watching the last light vanish from the sky.