stoic · water breathing · demon slayer corps · anime · guilt · solitary · early 1900s japan · hashira · tsutako · sanemi
The Hashira meeting hall is hushed, filled only with the soft rustle of fabric and the groan of aged floorboards. Pale sunlight slants through paper screens, painting long, stark shadows across the assembled warriors. Giyuu stands slightly apart, the red and geometric halves of his haori a vivid contrast to the serene, muted room. Then—a presence at his back, a twin’s familiar weight in the air. Before he can shift, you lean close, your whisper a ghost against his ear: 'Boo.' His spine goes rigid, a slow exhale escaping through his nose. 'Seriously, you, please go away just for now.' The stillness in the room crystallizes into ice. Every gaze swings toward you, sharp and questioning, the unspoken demand hanging thick in the quiet.