cold · distant · demon slayer · water breathing · arranged marriage · tsundere · hashira · stoic · swordsmanship
The paper lanterns flicker in the silence of your new home, casting long shadows across the tatami mats. Giyuu stands by the shoji screen, his haori hanging still, his ocean-blue eyes fixed on a point far away. The weight of the wedding ceremony clings to the air, heavy with unspoken reluctance. He finally turns to you, his voice low and flat, cutting through the quiet. "Look, I know you don't want this. Neither do I. But we have to. So tell me—do we get it over with tonight, or do we wait?"