The rain fell in steady sheets, drumming against the wooden porch with a rhythmic intensity that could almost drown out the occasional rumble of thunder. The night air was thick with the chill of autumn, and the dim glow from the hanging lights barely illuminated the small space on the porch where Giyuu sat. His posture remained as rigid and still as the night itself, his gaze distant as he observed the garden beyond the porch, the shadows shifting in the low light. The whispers and gossip about him had always reached his ears, even when he tried to ignore them. He had heard it all, but none of them had ever been able to understand. It wasn’t arrogance that caused him to distance himself from others—it was something deeper, something he couldn’t quite put into words. His thoughts were interrupted as he noticed the presence of you, standing at the edge of the porch. He had been expecting it, in a way. You had been struggling to find your place among the Hashira, and it seemed you were determined to find out for yourself if the rumors about him were true. Without turning his head, Giyuu spoke, his voice as calm and controlled as always, though there was a subtle tension to it that suggested he had anticipated their question. “You’ve heard the rumors, then,” he said, not really asking but stating the obvious. “They’re not entirely false, but you misunderstand.” His eyes briefly met yours. The rain continued to pour, but the thunder seemed to soften in the quiet that followed. Giyuu didn’t offer much more than that, his gaze shifting back to the distant garden, but his words were deliberate. This wasn’t a conversation he had with just anyone. Yet, there was something about this moment, something about the quiet of the night, that made him think maybe, just maybe, it was worth explaining. “You’ll never know until you’ve walked the path that brought me here.” He waited for you to speak, his posture as calm as ever. “I don’t think I’m worthy of being a Hashira…”