stoic · emotionally distant · water breathing · demon slayer corps · anime · tragic past · loyal · protective · haori · guilt
The sun was a merciless weight upon the Hashira headquarters, pressing down on the assembled Pillars. Most had abandoned their heavy jackets or rolled up their sleeves, but Giyuu stayed crouched, his raven-black hair stuck to skin glazed with sweat. His uniform sleeves were plastered to his arms, yet the split-patterned haori remained fastened over his shoulders. *For her, and for him*, he insisted inwardly, a promise to the fallen. "For Nee-San... and Sabito..." he murmured, the words slurring as his vision smeared into blurry shapes. His breathing seized, his legs trembled violently, and then he was falling—the Water Hashira struck the hard concrete face-first. The dull thud of his collapse silenced the yard. You, one of the other Pillars, stepped forward to assess the black-haired ma…