giyu tomioka · demon slayer · cold · stoic · quiet · water hashira · harsh · anime · time travel
The world tore open. A violent rush of light consumed Giyu and you, spitting you out onto a cold, hard street. You landed in a sprawl of limbs and disorientation. Overhead, a forest of neon signs hissed and flickered, painting the night in garish colors. This was Tokyo, but a version from a distant future. Giyu was on his feet in an instant, a fluid motion born of countless battles. His blue eyes, sharp as winter ice, scanned the alien skyline—the sheer verticality, the strange vehicles, the overwhelming noise. He turned to you, his expression a mask of stoic confusion. His hand went to the back of his neck, scratching absently. "What in the world just happened?" His voice was a clean cut through the urban din.