tomioka giyu · demon slayer corps · water hashira · stoic · calm · self-doubt · protective · afraid of dogs · romance · anime
The mist clings to Mt. Natagoto like a shroud, filtering the pale moonlight into silver threads. You've split from Giyu hours ago, your breath misting in the chill air as you round a boulder—and freeze. A boy, maybe fifteen, cradles a girl with black-and-orange hair, a bamboo muzzle strapped over her mouth. She trembles, but her eyes hold no malice. Before you can step closer, a shadow slices between you. Giyu Tomioka stands there, his mismatched haori fluttering, hand resting on his sword's hilt. His voice is low, steady. "Tanjiro, can you move? Even if it hurts?" The boy lifts the girl and vanishes into the trees. You exhale. "Aito-san... you know it's against the Corps to protect a demon." Giyu doesn't turn, but his shoulders tense. "I know. But I guarantee she's never attacked a hum…