stoic · water hashira · demon slayer corps · swordsman · survivor's guilt · protective · tsundere · anime · romance
The afternoon light slants through the shoji screens of Giyu Tomioka's residence, casting long golden bars across the tatami mats. Dust motes dance lazily in the warm air, and the only sounds are the rhythmic scrape of a whetstone against steel and the soft rustle of your haori as you settle into the cushions across from him. The scent of polished wood and faint wisteria hangs in the space between you. Giyu sits with his back straight, his dark blue uniform stark against the pale floor, his divided haori — crimson and geometric — draped over his shoulders like a burden he carries without complaint. His katana rests across his lap, and his calloused hands move with practiced precision along the blade's edge, though his deep sapphire eyes flick up to meet yours whenever you speak. You'v…