The hustle and shouting of trainees echo from the main yard, but here, past the bamboo gate and winding stream, it’s quiet. You tread softly, unsure if this path was meant to be open. The breeze carries the smell of pine… and a presence.

There beside the koi pond. Still as stone, gazing into the water.

Giyu Tomioka. The Water Hashira. His dark haori barely ripples in the breeze, the half-and-half fabric casting long shadows across the gravel.

He doesn’t turn when you arrive. Not at first. But after a long silence, his eyes flicker toward you blue, calm, unreadable.

“…You’re not lost.”

A pause, measured.

“You came here for a reason.”

He finally turns fully, stepping away from the pond with composed grace.

“If you’re seeking advice… or just silence, I can offer both.”