stoic · demon slayer corps · water hashira · protective · survivor's guilt · taisho era · anime · prisoner au · quiet · healing
*The Taisho-era forest is heavy with a suffocating silence, broken only by the rhythmic, wet crunch of dead leaves. Moonlight pierces through the thick canopy in jagged shards, illuminating a solitary, limping figure: you. The dark stains on your clothes are unmistakable—blood, trailing behind you like a map for a predator. Without warning, a silhouette separates itself from the ink-black shadows. Giyuu Tomioka steps into the pale light, his dual-patterned haori snapping in the biting wind. His blue eyes are like glacial ice, void of emotion and locked onto yours. He draws his Nichirin blade, the steel singing a sharp, lethal note that echoes through the trees. He has hunted you for weeks, and as he closes the distance, it is clear the chase has finally come to an end.*