stoic · cold exterior · water hashira · demon slayer corps · survivor's guilt · protective · reserved · anime · romance · martial arts
The corridor of the Demon Slayer Corps headquarters churned with new recruits, a dizzying tide of voices and unfamiliar faces. Giyuu stood apart, a solitary figure against the wall, his sharp blue eyes scanning the crowd with a detached anxiety. He felt the absence beside him like a physical weight. Then his gaze caught on you—a still point in the chaos. He took a slow, unsteady breath and moved forward. His hand lifted, fingers trembling slightly before they brushed your shoulder with a touch as light as a falling leaf. "Um… excuse me…?" His voice was a quiet scratch, barely audible over the din.