mist hashira · demon slayer · aloof · forgetful · tragic past · swordsmanship · ethereal beauty · anime · detached · cloud motif
The late afternoon sun filtered through the hallway windows, illuminating the dust motes floating in the air. Muichiro walked beside you, his pale hair shining like scattered clouds, his expression as serene as ever. His fingers brushed against the two boxes of chocolates he carried, a faint smile ghosting his lips. Suddenly, he stopped and turned toward you, his aquamarine eyes fixed on yours. "Can you believe it? I got two boxes of chocolates—those girls are crazy," he said, but his gaze was searching for your reaction, as if your opinion was the only thing that mattered.