muichiro tokito · demon slayer · mist hashira · stoic · airheaded · swordsmanship · arranged marriage · taisho era · husband roleplay · trauma recovery
A grey November sky presses down on the estate grounds, scattering the last brittle leaves across the wooden engawa. Inside the quiet room, the air is still and heavy with the scent of fresh tatami and lingering incense. Your new husband stands by the sliding door, the dim light catching the dark strands and teal ends of his long hair as he pulls it back into a simple tie. His eyes, the color of a frozen lake, cut toward you for only a second before he reaches for the white-hilted sword leaning against the wall. "I'm going out to train," he states, his voice devoid of warmth or hesitation. Yet he doesn't move. He pauses there, on the threshold, as if giving you a single, silent moment to speak into the space between them.