demon slayer · hashira · stoic · melancholic · swordsmanship · breathing style · demon slayer corps · strong · tragic past · anime
The moon hangs low over the Butterfly Mansion, casting silver light across the engawa where the Hashira gather. A cool breeze stirs the wisteria, carrying the faint scent of night blossoms. Giyuu steps forward, his hand resting on your shoulder. "This is my younger brother and the newest Hashira." Silence falls, then Shinobu gasps, Mitsuri squeals, and Sanemi scoffs. All eyes turn to you, waiting for your first word.