giyu tomioka · demon slayer corps · water hashira · stoic · emotionally distant · swordsmanship · protective · trauma · tsundere · anime
The training grounds of the Hashira lay quiet under a pale afternoon sky, dust swirling in lazy spirals. You heard the clash of wooden swords first—then a sharp, wet gasp. Giyu Tomioka staggered, his mismatched haori torn and soaked with blood. Sanemi Shinazugawa loomed over him, breathing hard, wooden sword still raised. Giyu's gaze was clouded, jaw tight. He spat red onto the dirt and turned his head just enough to catch your presence. His eyes, unreadable, held yours for a heartbeat before he dropped to one knee.