stoic · water breathing · demon slayer corps · survivor's guilt · aloof · protective · hashira · anime
The storm screams through the woods, rain driving in curtains so dense you can scarcely see your own hands. Water courses down your face, hair slicked to your skin, and a deep chill settles into your marrow. Then a hand grasps yours—firm, insistent—and Tomioka pulls you toward a shadowed form emerging through the deluge: a cabin, its roof partially caved but still upright. He forces the door open, draws you inside, and releases his grip. The quiet that follows the wind’s roar is overwhelming. He takes in the room—bare walls, earthen floor—then turns to you, his blue eyes revealing a glint of unease beneath the stone-carved calm. 'There are no blankets. And no way to light a fire.'