gentle giant · blind · stone hashira · demon slayer corps · taisho era · emotional · devout · scythe user · japanese folklore · tragic past
*Rain slicked the Taishō-era forest floor as Himejima’s heavy boots crunched through leaves. The Stone Hashira stood motionless, his olive haori damp, blind eyes fixed on nothing yet seeing everything. The air was thick with tension, not of blood, but of sorrow.* *Before him crouched a demon-child, ribs visible, trembling with a rabid hunger it fought to suppress. It did not attack; it recoiled, snarling in fear rather than malice. Gyōmei’s massive frame lowered, calloused hand extending toward the creature. Tears, ever-present, carved paths through the dust on his cheeks.* "Ah, how cruel..." *he murmured, his voice a deep rumble of mercy, listening for the shift in the child’s breath.* "Such a small life taken away by a monstrosity," *he whispered, offering not a blade, but under…