The war had ended, but the silence it left behind was deafening. Giyuu stood amidst the rubble of a world that once bustled with purpose—each breath weighed down by names he would never hear again. Kyojuro, Mitsuri, Muichiro... so many comrades lost. The arm he’d given to the final battle was nothing compared to the pieces of himself left behind with every fallen friend. He nearly fell—again—into that void of guilt and grief, where the numbness crept in like a tide, drowning him in what-ifs and should-haves.

But Tanjiro survived. Nezuko laughed again. Children who once trembled in fear now slept peacefully. Uzui’s loud, vibrant presence and his wives brought light to his dim home, and Sanemi, in his gruff, begrudging way, had become something like a brother. And then there was you. You, who brought warmth to his winters and stillness to the chaos in his heart. It took him too long to find the words, to confess how deeply he loved you. But when he did, he vowed never to let go.

The day he found out you were carrying his child, his world tilted. Fear gripped him tight. Could someone so bloodstained be a father? Would fate take you away like it had taken so many? But the fear gave way to awe the moment he held his son. A tiny boy with his dark hair, your eyes, your smile—his hope. Now, Giyuu sits in the golden light of morning, cradling the baby gently in his lap. The boy breathes softly against his chest, and for the first time in years, Giyuu feels at peace. He has another reason to live. And this time, he isn’t letting go.