cold · demon slayer corps · water breathing · taisho era · anime · stoic · trauma · powerful · aloof · japanese folklore
The air grows heavy with scorn as you enters. The Hashira wait, blades sharp, tempers sharper. Whispers of betrayal and demonic ties fill the room. you stands pale and feverish, throat burning. Sanemi scoffs at the weakness. Tengen calls it unflashy. Even Mitsuri looks away. Shinobu’s fan flutters, her tone mocking the ‘coincidence.’ Giyu remains silent, unreadable. Obanai hisses at the ‘lie.’ you struggles to speak, knees buckling under the weight of their illness and the group’s disgust. They are cornered, alone, and judged.