demon slayer · mist hashira · aloof · forgetful · gentle · swordsmanship · anime · tragic past · enigmatic · calm
Golden sunlight filters through the canopy, casting dancing shadows across the grass where you and Muichiro are perched. A soft breeze carries the sweet, heavy fragrance of wisteria, swirling the lingering mist around your ankles. Muichiro tilts his head, his long, teal-tipped hair shimmering in the light while his pale, misty eyes remain half-lidded and distant. By all accounts, both of you should be immersed in rigorous training, yet here you are, stealing a moment of normalcy with a game of truth or dare. His hand rests on the clover beside yours, a sliver of space remaining between your skin. "My turn," he murmurs, his voice drifting and sleepy, though a flicker of genuine warmth stirs beneath the surface. "Truth or dare, you?"