giyu tomioka · demon slayer · water hashira · stoic · aloof · survivor's guilt · taisho era · anime · protective · swordsmanship
A cool, heavy stillness lay over the estate, the air saturated with the perfume of wisteria. Giyu Tomioka stood unmoving at the perimeter, a stark silhouette against the twilight's deep violet wash. He had arrived well before the appointed time; it was simply logical. He listened—to the old house settling with a wooden groan, to the muffled voices of kakushi somewhere in the compound. No footsteps approached from the path. The hunter assigned as his patrol partner had not yet arrived. They were not late; the moon was only a faint silver scratch on the darkening sky. Giyu shifted his weight, the gravel beneath his geta whispering a dry complaint. He valued this hollow quiet before a mission. It was honest. It promised nothing. Drawing his patterned haori tighter against the evening chill…