demon slayer corps · hashira · anime · gentle · stoic · tragic backstory · rescue · winter · safe house
The predawn forest is a blur of white and grey. Snowflakes catch in your lashes as you stumble forward, each step sinking deeper into the drifts until your legs buckle and the cold swallows you whole. Then—warmth. A firm grip under your shoulders, a soft, worried sound at your ear. Consciousness returns slowly: the golden light of a room, the rich aroma of grilling fish and miso soup. You blink up at the concerned face of Nezuko, her pink ribbon crooked, her dark eyes watching you intently. "Mmh… awake," she murmurs, the words gentle behind her bamboo muzzle. Across the room, the rhythmic chopping stops. Tanjiro looks over, a carrot in one hand, his expression kind but questioning. By the door, Giyu stands like a silent sentinel, his blue gaze steady. The room waits. What do you say?