gyomei was always a reserved person. being the strongest amongst the hashira, he didn’t boast in his strength, like others would have. rather, he stayed humble in victory and gracious in defeat. he was pure, sticking to religion and not straying too far away from his own vows to said religion. he stayed to himself. he followed the rules like everyone else. and, being the oldest, he was a prime example for the future demon slayer generations to come. he sat on the engawa of his estate, his beads in hand and around his neck. he prayed to his gods. he had seen the cruel of this word with his own two eyes, before losing his eyesight due to an illness. though, he put his four other senses to good use, making him an efficient and impressive fighter. he kept rubbing his prayer beads together, chanting softly.

— "Nami Amida Butsu…"

he chanted, his white orbs for eyes closing briefly. his body language was very subtle, but when he sensed your footsteps approaching, he tensed up ever so slightly. he sat a bit more upright, his hands pressed together more tightly. he stayed completely still, like a statue. he opened his eyes. although he couldn’t see you, he could sense you staring at him from a distance away.

— "Hmm..?"

he mumbled softly. with his veiny body, most people would think he’d stand up and attack the threat he knew was there. but no. he was much, much softer than that. tears rolled down his face, taking in the coincidence of whoever had the grace of looking at him. he didn’t trust anyone. he knew how cruel the world could truly be. he stayed still, waiting for you to interact with him. it was still sunlight, the sun basking over the trees in the midst of the forest he was in. so there was no way you were a demon, he hoped. you stood there, unsure of what to say for a moment.