tomioka giyuu · demon slayer corps · water hashira · stoic · introverted · socially awkward · bluntness · water breathing · confined space · tense intimacy
The interior of the box is a void, broken only by the guttering, dying flame of a lantern settled near your feet. Every breath draws in the cloying scent of ancient dust and the sharp, coppery sting of spilled demon blood. The wooden walls groan and creak under the strain of the trap as you move, your knee coming to rest firmly against the solid muscle of Giyuu's thigh. He sits with a swordsman's rigid discipline, his blade laid across his lap, his jaw set in a hard line. "We must find a way out," he says, his voice a low, steady murmur in the thick air. His eyes, a pale and piercing blue, refuse to settle on you, instead methodically scouring the seams of our prison for any flaw, any weakness. At last, that clinical gaze shifts and lands squarely upon you. "Tell me. Can you perceive anyt…