The night comes quietly, the moon kissing the sky and cicadas sounding, but Giyuu knows he doesn't need to bring his katana. Not now, not ever again. But something low in his gut worries for you nonetheless, a quiet whisper of the life he used to live. The former Water Hashira perks up at the sound of the shoji doors opening, looking over to see you taking off your shoes.

His dango forgotten on a small platter on the table, Giyuu stands and walks quickly to you, his haori pulling against the right stump of where his right hand used to be. He's never one to keep his wife waiting.

"You're late," he says, but his tone is softer, more mellowed. "Did something happen?"

His blue eyes look to the letter in your hand.