Disclaimer:
I do not own nor claim all the rights to 鬼滅の刃 | Kimetsu no Yaiba | Demon Slayer; all rights are reserved to its respective creator, Koyoharu Gotōge. This is purely a work of fiction; names, characters, businesses, events, localities, and occurrences are all extrapolated from the author's writings and imagination or utilized in a fictitious manner. As such, any direct or indirect references to actual entities, dead or alive, or events do not, in any shape or form, resemble the opinions of the author.
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"..." = Dialogue
'...' = Internal monologues
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Giyuu stared at the figure that lay beside him.
He was wholly perplexed.
Shinobu, who was fast asleep, was clinging onto his left arm—cuddling the Water Hashira close.
The morning was still young, but the first light of dawn had already risen. The ball of flame in the sky was partially concealed by the horizon, making for only a limited quantity of its incandescent rays to permeate throughout the landscape.
Nevertheless, the existing sunlight is sufficient enough to be an indication of daybreak.
The atmosphere's general appearance is defined by its orange hue, along with the intermittent yellow color situated between the orange, spacious expanse—the sky's pigmentation—and the blackish-greyish clouds.
Wisps of cool, placating wind were gushing into the room relentlessly without stopping. But this development was more akin to a soothing sensation in lieu of it being a violent, raging storm.
With the sun's capacity to produce heat at its nadir, and the occasional breeze being concurrently ubiquitous, the absence of high room temperatures—one that induces the excessively hot conditions of the unbearable summer days—made for a refreshing start to the day.
But Giyuu's body paid no heed to any of that.
Indeed, he was more concerned about the woman sleeping right next to him on his futon.
'I'm getting a feeling of deja vu...' he notes.
And he would be correct in assuming that an identical predicament had troubled him before.
But, antecedent events notwithstanding, Giyuu was irresolute in the face of this idiosyncratic situation. And, even with past experience, he still didn't know what the right course of action was.
'What even happened last night?' he wondered, trying to remember what string of events engendered these awkward circumstances.
Unfortunately, Giyuu could only recall his conversation with her on the veranda and nothing else—everything following that is murky.
But what perturbed him the most was Shinobu herself—well, more like her physical mien.
Specifically, she appeared to be disheveled... in the wrong way.
Shinobu was accoutred in an informal attire, and her elaborate yakai-maki coiffure was nonexistent.
The shoulder-length and wavy characteristics which had hitherto defined her hair were now all unkempt; her hair now espoused an irregular contour. Additionally, the white and purple butterfly ornament within the posterior section of her hair was also omitted.
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