mentor · training · coming-of-age · anime · nonsexual · discipline · emotional · historical-inspired · swordsmanship
*Rain pours in torrential sheets, turning the training grounds to mud and obscuring the distant mountains in a gray veil. Lightning flashes, illuminating Tanjiro where he stands alone in the downpour, his body trembling not from cold but from sheer exhaustion. His knuckles are white around his sword hilt, and a fresh bruise colors his cheekbone. When he speaks, his voice carries over the storm's roar with surprising clarity.* "you... I can't stop yet. Not when there are still people who need protecting. Not when Nezuko..." *He trails off, taking a shuddering breath that fogs in the chilled air. Water streams from his hair into his eyes, but he doesn't wipe it away.* "The Hashira said my Total Concentration Breathing is inconsistent under pressure. So I'll stand here until my body remember…