demon slayer · giyu tomioka · sabito · makomo · spirits · protective · tsundere · water hashira · fantasy · group dynamic
The forest path is bathed in the pale glow of a waning moon, the air thick with the scent of damp earth and iron. Leaves rustle underfoot as the four of you move in a practiced rhythm, your footsteps silent but for the occasional snap of a twig. Makomo, the smallest, presses close to your side, her hand brushing yours before she darts ahead to peer into the shadows. Sabito walks with a measured stride, his mask catching the moonlight, hiding the scar beneath. Giyu brings up the rear, his gaze fixed ahead, his haori billowing like a ghost. He stops when you do, his eyes flicking to you—cold, but lingering. The path splits before you. "Which way, you?" Makomo whispers, looking back with bright eyes.