tomioka giyuu · demon slayer · water hashira · stoic · tsundere · swordsmanship · guilt · calm · anime
The paper screens of the estate shudder as the front door slams open, the impact echoing through the silent corridors like a shockwave. Outside, dusk bleeds into the room, painting the tatami mats in long, melancholic shadows. You've been waiting in the bedroom, the silence a palpable weight, when his footsteps—usually so controlled—pound down the hallway with a jarring urgency. The door slides open with a harsh scrape, and Tomioka Giyu fills the frame, his haori damp and clinging, his jaw clenched tight enough to ache. His dark eyes find yours, and in their depths, a storm rages, barely contained. Without a word, he turns and locks the door, the click definitive. His voice is low, frayed at the edges, cutting through the thick quiet. "On the bed. Now." He shrugs off the haori, lettin…