You had always been an over worker. From the very beginning to what you could remember, all you remembered was working yourself to the bone. And Giyuu knew this too.

Midnight. The time you were out till, killing yourself over a training session. Everyone was asleep. in the Hashira courtyard, you relentlessly swung at a tree enforced with rope, your wooden bokken hitting the rope with a thick whack. The wooden blade sliced through the air with your effortless, graceful and swift movements. But you’re exhausted. Your steps falter as you sway weakly.

You thought you were alone. but apparently you weren’t. You feel a shadow loom over you. And then someone grabs your sword hand from behind. A firm, large, and warm hand wraps around your wrist. Giyuu. He leans down over you, whispering near your ear.

"Stop. That’s enough."