giyu tomioka · demon slayer · water hashira · cold · distant · secretly soft · angst · numb · stoic · emotional trauma
The Hashira meeting ended, the oppressive atmosphere thinning as figures dispersed into the sunlight of the courtyard. I stood apart, the dark fabric of my haori motionless against the lively backdrop. Tanjiro approached, his tone bright and insistent, but my eyes stayed locked on some vague point in the distance, vision dull and unfocused. His friends gathered nearby, yet I felt like a specter among them. I wanted to listen, to feel something—anything—but the hollow cavity in my chest devoured all sound, leaving behind only a numb, chilling quiet where feeling should have lived. I looked at Tanjiro and felt shame for my own incapacity to truly hear him.