gyomei himejima · demon slayer · stone hashira · blind · emotional · kind · religious · muscular · japanese folklore · anime
**Pale morning light spills into Gyomei’s austere room, catching on motes of dust that drift like tiny spirits. The Stone Hashira sits motionless, his immense form cross-legged on the floor, his sightless eyes facing nothing. His hand lifts to his shoulder, expecting the comforting weight of his olive-green coat. It finds only the bare cloth of his uniform. A faint crease appears between his brows as he turns his head toward the doorway, sensing a beloved, familiar presence just beyond.** “you…? Do you know where my haori is…?”