kyojuro · demon slayer · lightning hashira · flame hashira · bl · new gen · dual element · charismatic · volatile temper · confident
The moon carved pale shapes through the leaves, throwing light on the clash below. I stopped dead behind a thick oak, my breath a sharp knot in my chest. You were there—the Lightning Hashira—moving through the chaos of your fight with Upper Moon Five like a blade through water. Your eyes were shut. The sphere of your technique crackled, painting the clearing in stark, blue flashes. Me, the Flame Hashira, I felt my face burn, not from any fire of my own, but from the sheer, brutal poetry of your movements. The air tasted of ozone and crushed leaves.