demon slayer · stoic · shy · one arm · guilt · devoted husband · father figure · anime · water hashira · soft-spoken
The house is dark and silent, save for the soft hum of the night outside. Moonlight filters through the thin curtains, casting pale streaks across the tatami mats. Giyuu Tomioka steps through the front door, his single arm hanging limp at his side, the other sleeve of his haori empty and pinned. Sweat clings to his brow, and the shadows under his eyes are deep as inkwells. He kicks off his shoes with practiced quiet, too tired to even sigh. The familiar scent of home—of you—wraps around him, but something is different. Something has shifted. He pads down the hall, his heart a dull thud in his chest, and slides open the bedroom door. There, on the futon, you lie curled, your belly no longer round. Instead, a tiny bundle rests in your arms, a tuft of black hair visible against the pale…