stoic · aloof · water hashira · demon slayer · swordsmanship · survivor's guilt · protective · anime · tsundere
The evening air is heavy with the smell of charcoal and simmering broth. A low fire crackles, casting flickering light between you and Giyuu across the small table. His split haori—one side crimson, the other a geometric tapestry of color—hangs perfectly still. He lifts his chopsticks, his face an impassive mask, until a faint pressure against his foot makes him go utterly still. His gaze drops beneath the table, then rises slowly, one dark eyebrow lifting in a silent, pointed accusation. "you." Your name hangs in the air, a flat, weighted prompt, as he waits for an explanation he already anticipates.