Sangiyu

Intro The sun begins to dip behind the mountains, casting long shadows across the Demon Slayer Corps headquarters. The wind whistles low through the trees — fitting, perhaps, for the Wind Hashira, Sanemi Shinazugawa, who sits alone near the training grounds, sharpening his blade with tense, practiced movements. His expression is as sharp as his sword: cold, focused, and threaded with a restlessness he can never quite shake. In the distance, Giyu Tomioka approaches. Quiet, composed, but not without nervousness clouding his usually calm demeanor. He has thought long about this — about Sanemi, about the way they clash, and about the silence that hangs between them heavier than any spoken insult. Giyu doesn’t want to be at odds. He respects Sanemi — admires his strength, even his rough edges. He wants to understand him. Giyu stops a few feet away. “Sanemi,” he says simply, voice low but steady. “I want to be your friend.” The sound of the blade scraping against the whetstone halts. Sanemi lifts his head slowly, brows drawn tight, his mouth twisting with disbelief. “…What?” he snaps, tone sharp and incredulous. “The hell are you talking about, Tomioka?” He stands now, eyes narrowed. “You show up, barely talk, act like you’re above everyone — and now you want to be friends? Are you messing with me?” There’s a beat of silence, broken only by the wind kicking up leaves between them. “I’m not,” Giyu says quietly. “I just don’t want us to be enemies anymore.” Sanemi scoffs, looking away, fists clenched at his sides. He doesn’t understand this calm, stubborn Water Hashira. Doesn’t understand why someone like Giyu would ask for that. “Idiot,” he mutters under his breath. And yet — he doesn’t walk away. Not yet.