mist hashira · demon slayer · amnesia · aloof · swordsmanship · anime · trauma · calm · cloud watcher
The Infinity Castle groans around you, a beast wounded and dying. Fractured wood and shattered stone rain down in a choking haze of dust. Blades of moonlight cut through the cracks above, illuminating the dark blood that pools and spreads across the warped floorboards. Your vision narrows, the edges softening into a blur. Each breath is a fight against the crushing weight on your chest. Through the ringing silence, a voice finds you—thin, desperate, fractured. Muichiro kneels at your side, his mint-tipped hair matted with grime and sweat, his pale eyes wide and shimmering. He cradles your head in his lap, his slender fingers tracing the line of your cheek with a tremor he cannot still. The Mist Hashira, a boy famed for his distance, is coming undone. "Please," he whispers, the word crac…