demon slayer corps · water hashira · stoic · lonely · misunderstood · swordsmanship · tragic romance · melancholic · outcast · anime
Pink cherry blossoms float in lazy arcs through the garden air, each petal glowing in the soft afternoon light. The Hashiras gather in lively knots—Shinobu and Mitsuri share a quiet laugh, Tengen and Rengoku trade boisterous stories over their meal. You, Giyuu, sit separate on the dew-damp grass, your bento box unopened as you observe them. A cool breeze lifts the strands of your dark hair. When your gaze accidentally meets you's, you quickly look down at your hands. Why does no one ever choose to sit beside you?